by Janet Grace
Over breakfast, while Georgiana continued to expound John’s seemingly inexhaustible virtues, Louisa glared at her toast, whole-heartedly agreeing when Aunt Alvira snorted disparagingly and remarked, ‘A man without a single fault—sounds a tedious fellow to me!’
But Georgiana only giggled. John had called almost before they had set foot in the carriage, and had received cautious approval from Lady Mondfort. It seemed that things would progress smoothly there.
‘Now girls—’ Draining her cup of chocolate, Aunt Alvira began organising again. ‘Philip is quite happy for me to take you out today, for you will both need new clothes. Miss Stapely, my dear, may I call you Louisa? For I mean you to be just as one of the family. You must not object to my buying you one or two new gowns; naturally you could not be expected to have anticipated such a sudden change in your circumstances, and you will be accompanying Georgiana to so many places. In fact, I have taken the liberty of choosing the style and materials for a new ball-gown for each of you, so that work on them can be underway, though it is essential you call in for fittings this morning.
‘Speed in getting you properly clothed is necessary. I have a couple of cards here already for you both, just for evenings at home, from friends of mine, but particularly Lady Lanchester has promised me she will send you both cards for her ball, a grand goodbye to all her friends and acquaintances before Quentin drags her back to his Yorkshire estates. Oh, yes, and I sent a note to your friend Lady Cairshaw, Louisa, letting her know you would be coming up, so you should hear from her, too. I have been very busy since your letter arrived, Georgiana; you certainly shouldn’t be dull while you are here.’
Georgiana ran around the table and gave her aunt a hug. ‘It is all quite wonderful, Aunt. To be in London at last, with dear Louisa to take me around; everything will be absolutely perfect. Thank you!’
‘Humph!’ Her aunt’s response was gruff to hide her pleasure. ‘It’ll be good to have you both here. Now, hurry into your best walking-dresses, we have a long day’s shopping ahead, and we won’t be taking the carriage. The roads are far too congested.’
After the quiet of Upper Stoneham, the streets of London were quite astonishing. Curricles and phaetons with natty young drivers attempted to cut and weave between staid family coaches, impatient mail-coaches trying to leave town or arrive back at their inns on time, and vast, laden delivery-carts carrying loads of every shape, sound and smell. Horsemen picked their way carefully, and pedestrians often leapt for their lives. The air was loud with shouts, squawks, whinnies, curses, clattering hoofs and wheels on cobbles, the crash, thud and rumble of barrels delivered at the public houses, or coal thundering into a cellar through a gaping trapdoor in the pavement.
Georgiana and Louisa were entranced. Even Louisa’s anger could not last in the excitement of making their way through the heart of the great capital; to hear, smell and touch it all! At every shop Georgiana would grab her arm and pull her over to point, gaze and exclaim. Each emporium was an Aladdin’s cave.
Soon parcels and packets were being trotted back to Gudrigan Square by keen young delivery boys hopeful of a large tip. Even Louisa extravagantly bought stockings, gloves and ribbons, with money from her small stock of savings.
It was with a sigh of exhausted relief that Lady Mondfort eventually escorted her two young guests through the discreet doorway of her own favourite dressmaker, and pronounced to the proprietress who hurried to attend them personally, ‘Fittings for both these two on the ball-dresses I ordered, then choose styles for whatever you judge them to require, Madame Defayne. Wake me in half an hour to see how you are getting on.’
She dumped her parasol and reticule on the floor beside a comfortable chair, collapsed into it, and determinedly closed her eyes. Madame Defayne beamed at the two startled girls, and showed them through a curtain-covered archway to a room behind, fitted with large mirrors.
‘Now we shall see what you need,’ she said happily.
The fittings proceeded apace, Georgiana’s dress deceptively simple in white muslin with silver-thread embroidery, Louisa’s in the palest peach silk, the lace-edged neck to be cut so low it seemed almost to touch the high waist, and with little puff sleeves that would be caught up by bands of a rich, dark peach silk. Louisa could not help a stir of excitement.
Next the girls pored over Madame Defayne’s fashion-plates, choosing styles. Louisa had selected a couple of modest and adaptable designs, only to find her choices summarily dismissed when Aunt Alvira woke up.
‘Good grief, girl, anyone would think you were in your dotage from the dreary clothes you choose! You are no governess now, but the friend of my family, and I want you to look your prettiest. Now, madame, what have you got that is a little more adventurous?’
Once they had chosen, and armed with a list of material lengths calculated by Madame Defayne, they ventured back into the street and along to the draper’s shop, an emporium of such size and splendour, it seemed impossible to begin to choose.
The shop was lit by vast glass domes over each of a long succession of halls which were linked by huge doors with glass fanlights above. On either side of every hall, behind the long wooden counters, shelves reached from floor to ceiling holding hundreds upon hundreds of bolts of cloth of every conceivable colour, pattern and texture. Muslins, calicoes, taffetas, tulles, sarsenets, cottons, silks, cambrics, flannels and crepes, damask, drugget, shalloon, serge, linsey-woolsey; the very names were an excitement.
Louisa pitied the assistant’s aching arms by the time she and Georgiana had eventually chosen from the vast array, and the lengths had been cut and packed. A visit to a nearby haberdasher for buttons, trims and lace was all that was needed before the three could make their weary way back to the dressmaker’s to deliver their purchases and discuss final details.
Louisa’s feet were aching, and she was happily wondering whether to indulge herself with a new pair of black kid shoes, and possibly also a pair of the tiny, light sandal shoes with ribbon ties that had caught her fancy earlier, when Georgiana stopped dead in front of her, then smiled and waved at somebody across the road.
‘Well, I never did! The sly thing!’ she exclaimed with a giggle. ‘Just look, Louisa—to think he told everyone he was going down to Alnstrop! It certainly wasn’t his old aunt he was worrying about, was it?’
Louisa stood rooted to the spot, and stared. Alnstrop! He was gazing straight at her. Her brain almost refused to believe what her eyes told her, but there was no room for doubt. It was him. There was also no doubt that the attractive little lady who was blatantly cuddling up against him, and smiling confidingly into his face, was on terms of considerable intimacy with him. A cold hatred filled her at what she saw, yet she could not look away.
Suddenly he moved, as if to cross the street towards her, and the movement broke her trance. A surge of outraged revulsion spurred her abrupt swing around, and she swept in through the dressmaker’s door.
When Hetta called to visit Louisa later that afternoon, she found her friend bright but brittle. She would chatter about new clothes, fashions, and invitations received, but when Hetta asked about events in any way relating to her brother she found her friend’s answers decidedly cool.
‘Alnstrop mentioned in a letter that he intended giving you our old microscope for use in your schoolroom,’ she ventured hopefully. ‘Did he do that?’
‘It was delivered, but...’ Louisa shrugged indifferently ‘... there was not time to use it, of course. Will you be attending Lady Lanchester’s ball?’
‘Why, yes, indeed. And you will be there, too? I am so glad. And, of course, John will be there. He arrived most abruptly on my doorstep, with much talk of his Georgiana and dire doings, but all seems happier now. I am looking forward to knowing her. He also mentioned some amazing story of the downfall of the dreadful Mr. Blane. Come now, Louisa, tell me the truth of it all.’
This Louisa could do happily, and she had Hetta at first aghast, then laughing outright, at the awful even
ts of the Aleminster assembly.
‘What a villain! And how I wish I could have seen John calmly bowing to all those horrified matrons. Typical! He has the cheek of the devil! I am so glad he has come up to London, and ensconced himself in my house. The house seems half the size when my brothers stay, for they are somehow so noisy, but it is never dull. I wonder if maybe Robert will be joining us?’
She left the question hanging in the air, watched Louisa curiously.
Louisa flushed. Surely Hetta was aware that her brother was here, and in what company?
‘I am sure you are more likely to know of his whereabouts than I,’ she responded coldly. ‘It is certainly no concern of mine.’
Lord Alnstrop’s affectionate sister returned home puzzled. She had judged, from the frequent mentions of Miss Stapely’s name in Robert’s recent letters, that it would not be long before she could call her friend ‘sister’. Whatever could have gone wrong?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The following morning the girls lay late in bed, and their toast and chocolate was brought up on trays. They were to be out that evening, and Lady Mondfort recommended they rest, but Louisa suspected that she herself was tired after the previous day’s shopping, and glad of the later start. Louisa was glad of it, too. She felt unaccountably miserable this morning, and found she was missing the children, her work and the quiet sanctuary of her schoolroom more than she had expected. She even thought wistfully of Thesserton.
Millie, the little maid, beamed her cheery gap-toothed grin as she pulled back the curtains to admit the bright morning sunlight that could make even sooty, smutty London look lush and green. The joyous song of blackbirds in the garden streamed over the rumble of the traffic beyond.
‘Here’s your tray, miss. Sit up and I’ll plump your pillows. The chocolate is good and hot, for I hurried up with it specially, and there’s a letter for you, so I popped it on to the tray as well. I thought you would like it straight away.’ She grinned happily, an imperturbably cheerful girl, undaunted by the long hours and hard work of her job.
‘Thank you, Millie, you were quite right. That is lovely. I shan’t be needing you for a little while now.’
The letter was from Mama, and as she opened it Louisa thought of her brothers and sister, and hopes she had held high for their futures as she had left Thesserton. She spread the letter, began to read, and astonishment held her rigid.
Susannah and Mr. Sowthorpe! Never! It could not be. She was so young ... had never had a London season... now to be married—to Edward Sowthorpe!
She found herself glaring fixedly at a corner of the mantelpiece while her angry, startled thoughts whirled in turmoil. She drew breath and looked back at her mother’s letter, carefully smoothing out the folds.
‘I know you will be surprised, dear,’ she read ‘and perhaps not best pleased, but I am sure you will see it is all for the best. I did write to Susannah’s godmother as you suggested, hinting at a stay in town, but she showed no enthusiasm so it came to nothing, and I cannot truly be sorry. After all, it did not greatly benefit you. No, I believe this match will do very well. Mr. Sowthorpe is quite the biggest landowner hereabouts, as Susannah frequently tells me, and that house he has built has everything! It may not be what we would have chosen had your father been alive, but things are different for us now, and you have set us all an example in facing up to that.
‘As for your brothers, I know you dearly wished them to follow their papa on to Eton, but the vicar, who has been tutoring them, does not recommend this. It seems both boys are wild to join the Navy, and Mr. Fairweather assures me there are excellent prospects for boys, even without backing and influence, to do very well for themselves. If they rise in the service they may even make considerable fortunes, especially when we are at war. Think how splendid for our boys! He feels there is every chance they would do well, so I have asked him to make some enquiries on their behalf. They are quite mad with delight.
‘Be happy for them although it is not what you hoped. As you made your choice and asked us all to understand, I believe that as they make their choices you will understand.’
The room was very still, the blackbird had paused for breath, the traffic seemed far away. Louisa sat motionless, the letter in her lap.
What a fool she had been! In a blinding flash she saw all her folly. The sacrifice she had made for her family when they wanted none of it, the dreams she had had for their futures that they did not share. She had assumed a guilt for their misfortunes that none of them even recognised. And, Louisa found she must face this squarely, the only child to make a choice that had really distressed Mama had been herself, with her obstinate decision to step beyond the pale and become a governess. What an utter fool! She forgot how her own urge for escape and excitement had influenced her decision, and reflected wanly that she should have stayed quietly at home as a support and companion to Mama.
It was some time before Louisa, feeling very low, made the effort to leave her room, only to meet Georgiana on the landing. The girl flew up to her and grabbed her hands.
‘John is here; my darling John. He has come to call again, and he has brought Lord Alnstrop. They wish to see you, too. Come on down.’
She tugged Louisa’s arm impatiently.
‘No!’
Panic gripped Louisa. How did he dare to come here after what she had seen? He was utterly heartless!
‘I cannot come down. I have such a headache. Please make my excuses. I will be in my room.’
‘Oh, poor Louisa, I am so sorry. Of course I will tell them.’
Georgiana planted an impulsive kiss on Louisa’s cheek, and then ran at an unladylike speed down the staircase, sash and ribbons flying.
Louisa retreated to her room, lay on the bed, and sobbed.
She waited well over an hour, long past the usual half hour necessary for a visit, before venturing down the stairs to join Georgiana and Lady Mondfort. She was carrying a book and, rather defiantly, her knitting. She wished only to be allowed to sit quietly but, upon opening the door, she was horrified to see John and Lord Alnstrop still visiting, sitting very relaxed and at home. Alnstrop was regaling Lady Mondfort with a story that obviously amused her greatly, but the laughter died as they turned to the opening door.
‘Oh ... I am so sorry ... I did not realise...”
Louisa was hastily retreating.
The men leapt to their feet, and Aunt Alvira waved to Louisa.
‘Come on in, girl. Don’t dither about in the corridor as if you have no home. We’re all friends here. I have kept these two gentlemen longer than they expected, but they seem to be surviving. Thought I should get to know them both a little better, with all these requests young John is making.’ Georgiana blushed and smiled, but her aunt rattled on. ‘How’s the head? Better, I trust? Good, good. Sit over here by me, that’s a girl. What’s that you’ve got? Knitting? Well, I never! Extraordinary! Reminds me of the nursery-maid I had as a child, never without a stocking on her needles. Quite a skill, I dare say.’
Overwhelmed by this flow, Louisa reluctantly submitted to being guided to the sofa, and settled herself tightly into one corner. She shook out her knitting and surveyed it darkly. Intended as a stocking for Geoffrey, Louisa could not imagine from its bizarre outline that it could ever warm anything, let alone a human foot. However, she looped the wool determinedly, following Annie’s dictated instructions.
Without thinking, she looked up as John laughed at some comment of Georgiana’s. Alnstrop was watching her, his face alight with the same tender, amused delight she had startled in his expression as she grubbed for fossils in the quarry. Furious at the uncontrollable leap of her heart, she glared at him, then bent her head firmly over her wool. She could feel the flush run over her face. Detestable man! Her needles clicked defiantly.
She stiffened. He had moved his chair to sit beside her! How could he dare? Did he think himself so irresistible that she would overlook his fickle, philandering behaviour?
‘
Your skills are so delightfully unexpected, Miss Stapely. I had no idea you practised knitting.’
His voice was low and warm, but laughing.
‘Really, my lord? I am certain there are many unusual things neither of us know about the other. Odd little interests we might have overlooked mentioning.’
Her tones were icicle sharp, and her eyes remained fixed on the clicking needles, but he must, she thought, be grossly insensitive to hints, for he merely chuckled.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I did bravely confess my predilection for mangel-wurzels!’
‘Mangel-wurzels?’ Aunt Alvira exclaimed. ‘What have they to do with anything, my lord?’
John groaned. ‘Don’t, I beg you, mention the name! This man has tortured me with mangel-wurzels. He is not safe near a mangel-wurzel!’
Louisa determinedly glowered throughout Alnstrop’s lively defence of the study of mangel-wurzels, even when he appealed to her for support against John’s cries of ‘Spare me! I cannot stomach another mangel-wurzel!’ She would not laugh.
As conversation became more general, he turned to her again.
‘Did you use the microscope? Did the children enjoy it?’
‘No, my lord. There was no time. The children had more important work to finish.’
‘Of course.’
Glancing up, she caught a flicker of hurt disappointment in his face. Good.