The Alter Ego

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  “Do you know, when we first met I thought perhaps he was a London Buck who had perhaps lost a bet, for his awful clothing did not match such fashionable hair. Now, however… what would possess a man with such beautiful locks to crop it so short?”

  “A la caesar,” said Lily in disgust. She looked up at her stepmother and pulled a face. “Although you are not much better, darling!”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” said Anna, looking up from her needlework.

  “You insist on forcing your hair into insipid styles, and then to make it all worse, you’ve put a lace cap over it!”

  Anna’s hand went instinctively to the frilly cap covering her black locks. “There’s nothing wrong with a widow wearing a lace cap.”

  “Not if she’s on the shady side of forty. Good grief, Anna, you’re not even old enough to be considered an ape leader!”

  “Not far off it,” muttered Anna.

  “Stuff and nonsense,” said Lily, crossing her arms over her chest. “While I don’t abhor you wearing a simple cloth cap during the mornings, it’s ridiculous for you to wear styles that are intended for women twenty years your senior. And do not get me started on that hideous bonnet you bought yesterday!.”

  “It’s not hideous!” Anna said, straightening up.

  “But it doesn’t compliment you in the slightest, which I told you at the milliner’s shop,” said Lily.

  “You said it was lovely!” said Anna, her brows raised.

  “That was when I thought you intended to give it to Aunt Eleanor as a gift,” said Lily. “When you said it was for you, I told you that it was horrid.”

  Anna tossed her needlework onto the side table and flopped back into her chair.

  “I take it you believe I haven’t the tiniest bit of taste.”

  “Don’t be such a goose,” laughed Lily. “I know you have exceptional taste because you advise me so well and my wardrobe is excellent as a result. You just do the exact opposite when it comes to yourself.”

  “Perhaps I don’t want any attention!” she half wailed, wondering whether her late husband had lumbered her with Lily as some type of punishment.

  Lily cocked her head to one side. “What does that mean?”

  Anna felt her cheeks burn. “Not all gentlemen have honourable intentions, especially by widows.”

  Lily scrunched up her nose. “Both father and you have said that to me before, but I haven’t the slightest clue what you meant by it.”

  “It means that some gentlemen would rather have a woman’s, um, company, but not with the ties of marriage,” she replied, avoiding looking at Lily by going to retrieve her needlework.

  “Do you mean they want mistresses?” asked Lily. “From amongst the gentry? I thought only opera dancers became mistresses.”

  Anna looked back at her stepdaughter.

  “Firstly, I don’t even want to know where you learned about Opera dancers but I beg that you do not mention them again. Secondly, it is not uncommon for men to seek a woman from amongst their social equals, no matter how frowned upon it is for the woman to accept such an offer.”

  “But why would they ask a woman to be their mistress if she could be their wife?” asked Lily with wide eyes.

  Anna sighed. “This is a very improper conversation to be having.”

  “Well that’s just silly,” said Lily with a shake of her head. “How am I supposed to know an honourable gentleman from a dishonourable one if I don’t know the sort of things they would offer? And besides, why would that stop you from wanting attention if you know the difference?”

  Anna sighed, knowing full well that her stepdaughter would seize onto this conversation like a hunting dog and refuse to let go until all her questions were answered.

  “A wealthy widow is an attractive option to a man with no thoughts of marriage,” she said eventually. “And when that widow is of questionable birth, well, society would happily look the other way since they do not expect any better of her.”

  Lily blinked a few times as she processed this information. “I don’t understand; your mother’s family are Indian merchants, are they not?”

  “They are.”

  “Then why would it be a problem? Your mother and father have been happily married for an age.”

  Anna scratched at her ear “But not before I was born. At least, that is the rumour. My father has assured me that they were married in India by a Christian pastor, but there is no evidence to prove it.”

  Lily’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh.”

  “Your father married me as much for my protection as he did to provide you with a chaperone when you came out in Society. Unfortunately, not all the gossips were silenced.”

  Lily sat back in her chair, but her gaze never left Anna. “You know, when I think about it, I don’t see why it is such a problem. Even I know that men are more likely to court a widow for their… their flirtations, as it were, so all you need to do is turn them down.”

  Anna laughed despite herself. “Oh Lily, if only the world were as simple as you make it sound.”

  “It would be if people did not insist on complicating every little matter,” her stepdaughter replied with a roll of her eyes. “Look at the silly hoops we must jump through just to be known to Society! Why we can’t just walk up to interesting-looking people and say hello to them is beyond me.”

  “The Ton doesn’t work that way,” said Anna. “Besides, do you not like our new acquaintances?”

  “Lady Seraphinia terrifies me, and although Miss Lindon has been everything that is kind, I confess I feel quite stupid in her presence,” said Lily, looking sheepish. “Does that make me ungrateful?”

  “Not at all, for it seems to me that Miss Lindon has a prodigious intellect,” said Anna, finally resuming her needlework.

  “The General is amusing, and of course I nearly died when the Duke and Duchess of Devenish spoke to us.”

  Anna smiled. “But you became fast friends with Her Grace, did you not?”

  “She is so gracious,” said Lily with a sigh. “And I do not know why there are rumours that the Duke is haughty, for I found him to be very kind – and he took an interest in you, Anna!”

  “A shared dislike of matchmaking mammas, that is all,” laughed Anna.

  Lily pouted. “Allow me to indulge my fantasy of having a Duchess for a stepmother, please.”

  Anna couldn’t help but shake her head at the absurdity of her daughter’s statement. “Would you not prefer to be a Duchess yourself? He was very taken with you.”

  “Pooh, he only had eyes for you! Besides, he is far too old for me.”

  “Positively ancient,” agreed Anna, unable to keep the chuckle from her voice.

  “I think I would prefer to marry a man who was at least established in the world,” said Lily, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Someone like Mr Arthur, perhaps.”

  Anna paused, her needle an inch above the fabric. “You like Mr Arthur, then?”

  Lily smiled. “Very much, and I know that you do as well. If only he had not shorn his hair!”

  Anna set down her needlework and forced a smile. “Indeed, but then men are as prone to succumb to the follies of fashion as the rest of us. Now enough chatter, it is late, and we are to go house hunting tomorrow. Goodnight, my dear!”

  Lily yawned loudly. “I suppose you are right! Come here, Governess; let us go to bed before our wicked stepmother puts a curse on us, and instead dream of our handsome prince.”

  “Wretch,” laughed Anna as Lily kissed her on the cheek, but the smile did not remain after her stepdaughter’s bedroom door closed.

  She did not sleep well that night, as her heart began warring with her mind.

  Chapter Seven

  The week flew by, and still there was no prospect of a suitable home to rent, despite Anna’s best efforts in that area. Between house-hunting, touring the city, meeting new acquaintances and being adopted into the heart of Bath society, it felt as though they had lived there for
years.

  To have a hope of getting her letters to various friends and relatives written, Anna had returned to her room straight after breakfast and settled herself before the writing desk. Lily, who did not care much for writing letters when Anna’s would no doubt do, lounged on her stepmother’s bed, feeding Governess small pieces of sausage that she had liberated from the breakfast table. She remained mostly silent for the first half hour, her interruptions becoming more frequent as the clock ticked on.

  “Are you very nearly done, Anna?” she asked for the third time. “You must have written a hundred letters by now!”

  “Only three, and it would go much quicker if you stopped trying to talk to me.”

  “I know, I know, but it’s just that I wish to go to the Pump Room. Charlotte – I mean, Mrs Rowlands – said she would meet me there, and that she will introduce me to some young ladies that she thinks I will get along with famously.”

  Anna, despite regarding Lady Seraphinia’s granddaughter as something of a goosecap, smiled. For all Charlotte Rowlands was a silly creature, she was undeniably a kind-hearted one who loved nothing more than making people happy.

  “Give me a few more minutes, and I will be finished.”

  Lily groaned. So did Governess. Anna ignored the sounds of them getting up off her bed, hoping that they intended to return to Lily’s room.

  “Are you writing to your sisters?” asked Lily, coming up to the writing desk to peer over Anna’s shoulder. “Are you going to tell them all about our meeting the Duke and Duchess of Devenish?”

  Governess, who was nestled in Lily’s arms, tried to lick Anna’s ear. She cursed and gave Lily and the wretched pug a gentle but firm push away.

  “What have I told you about privacy, my dear? And no, I have already written to my sisters. This one is for my parents.”

  “Are you telling them about the Duke and Duchess?” said Lily as she flopped into a nearby chair.

  “Yes, I told them,” Anna admitted with a small laugh. “And I told Mother not to harbour any illusions about marrying one of the girls off to him!”

  “And Mr Arthur? Is he in your letters.”

  Anna swallowed before answering. “Yes. I told them we had made some lovely new friends, including Mr Arthur and Miss Lindon.”

  “So you do like him, then?” asked Lily, and Anna could hear the smile in her stepdaughter’s voice.

  “Very much so. Do you?”

  “If he would only do something about his hair, and at least strive to be fashionable, I would think him the nicest gentleman I have ever met,” declared Lily.

  Anna smiled, although it seemed to be a struggle to get the sides of her mouth to turn up. “As I said. A lucky chance that we met him, as I have told my parents.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the street outside mingling with the scratch of Anna’s pen on the writing paper, and the gentle snores of a sleeping pug.

  “I suppose I should write a letter to my Aunt and Uncle,” said Lily eventually, her tone suggesting that this hardship was beyond her. “They will want to know if Lady Seraphinia likes us, or whether Governess has done anything shocking like Uncle Desmond predicted, which she has not.”

  “She relieved herself on General Mortimer’s boots.”

  Lily gave a wave of her hand. “That’s not shocking, that’s expected. Aunt Eleanor seems to think that Governess will eat a small child, or worse, leave hair on the gown of a Countess.”

  Anna paused, the tip of her quill pen hovering over the inkwell. “Hair on the gown of a Countess?”

  “I have no idea what she was talking about either,” said Lily with a shake of her head. “I don’t even know a Countess, and even if I did, it’s not like pugs shed very much.”

  Anna refrained from telling her stepdaughter that they both owned several gowns that would disagree with that statement. Instead, she dipped her pen and returned to her letters.

  “I am afraid that I have to tell them that I have yet to secure us any lodgings. Father will gloat that he was right, while mother will be convinced that we are living in some backstreet hovel somewhere.”

  “But we’ve only been here a few days,” said Lily. “It is hardly your fault that the properties we’ve seen so far have been unsuitable. And besides, everyone keeps telling us to live in a different part of Bath, so it is only fair to expect it to take a few weeks for us to find the perfect home.”

  That, Anna reflected, was very true. The days since being introduced to Lady Seraphinia had passed in a whirl, with not one going by without invitations being delivered to the hotel for their perusal. They had not dined in even once and had more engagements lined up for almost every day for the rest of the month. It occurred to her only briefly that they both ran the risk of becoming fagged to death, but novelty and enthusiasm kept winning out, so the accepted every invitation that came their way, whether it was an intimate dinner or a trip to the theatre.

  The Duchess had been true to her word and invited them to take tea and discuss books on more than one occasion. They had even taken a turn about Sydney Gardens with her; the Duke pushing her Bath Chair while Anna and Lily walked at her side. The Duke, she had noticed, was always a pleasant escort on their excursions, but he only resorted to an outrageous flirtation with her when other gentlemen were present – most notably, Mr Arthur.

  “Shall we go to the Pump Room before we pay our calls today?” asked Anna. “Although I daresay we shall see so many people there that we will not need to visit them after luncheon.”

  “Lord, who would have thought we would have so many friends in town!” laughed Lily. “Yes, let us go! I confess that I do not think I will ever grow tired of seeing so many people in one place.”

  Anna, who personally found the Pump Room stuffy and overfull, smiled to herself and finished up her letter. While two weeks was not enough time for Lily’s manners to show any town bronze, this was the happiest she had ever seen the girl.

  “And besides, perhaps we shall see Mr Arthur today,” said Lily as she got to her feet. Governess, objecting loudly to her sleeping perch moving, stalked back to her newly purchased velvet footstool, and the curled up on the floor next to it.

  Anna folded up the letter to her parents, sealing it with a small blob of green wax.

  “Yes, I think he said he would be visiting with Lady Seraphinia and Miss Lindon today.”

  Lily grinned. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted to go!”

  “Well he did promise you that he would arrange for a walking party to Weston, so we shall naturally have to meet with him to discuss it.”

  “It was very clever of you to mention that we were planning to make that walk,” said Lily. “I would never have thought of making it an outing with as many of our new friends as we can gather.”

  Anna glanced at her stepdaughter, half smiling despite herself. “I get the impression that he was planning on a smaller party.”

  Lily made a rude noise. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, if you tell him that he needs to invite lots of people I have no doubt he will do it in a trice.”

  “The joys of being a chaperone,” muttered Anna, but Lily had already skipped off to her bedroom to retrieve her bonnet.

  The day was hot and humid, with an unforgiving sun glaring down from above. Thankful that their hotel was only a few short steps to the Pump Room, the Clyde ladies did without parasols, and settled for thin shawls rather than spencers to complement their walking dresses and stylish poke bonnets. Inside the Pump Room itself, the temperature was not much improved. The sheer number of people promenading as the Orchestra played made it crowded and warm, while the tepid, bitter waters would hardly provide any relief to them.

  They quickly spied Lady Seraphinia, Miss Lindon and Mr Arthur seated at the far side of the room, and they made their way across to them.

  Lady Seraphinia, in her old-fashioned but exquisite outfit of a scarlet redingote over a large number of white petticoats, fanned herself laz
ily as though the heat were the merest annoyance. Her broad mass of grey curls was topped with a Gainsborough hat trimmed with red and yellow striped ribbons and three magnificent ostrich plumes. It occurred to Anna once again that Lady Seraphinia must have been a very striking woman in her day, and that if she succumbed to the urge to dress and style her hair in the modern fashion, she would undoubtedly lose her air of command. Anyone else would look ridiculous in such dress, but Lady Seraphinia looked as though she had been born to wear such a style.

  Miss Lindon wore a plain but very elegant lilac pelisse of fine wool with silver military touches over a simple white muslin, but the purple shako, set upon her head at a jaunty angle, was daring enough to make both Lily and Anna covet it immediately. Arthur, in stark contrast to his female relations, appeared to have either fired his valet or dressed in the dark. Anna’s finger’s itched to fix his cravat which was tied so sloppily she could almost believe he had deliberately set out to look as poorly put together as possible.

  “Mrs Clyde – just the person I wanted to see,” said Lady Seraphinia with a gracious smile. “How are you at cards? We are planning to put a few tables together at my gathering tomorrow when it occurred to me that I have no idea if you can play.”

  “Both Lily and I are excellent players, my Lady,” said Anna. “Even when my late husband was ill he loved to play many different card games, among other entertainments.”

  “Excellent, then you can take my place at the Whist table,” said Miss Lindon with a relieved smile. “I am only competent at best, which causes Aunt Seraphinia to get into an awful rage with me.”

  “I do not rage, I simply point out your errors so that you can improve, not that you do,” sniffed Lady Seraphinia.

  “I can confirm that she rages,” said Arthur. “Luckily I am not half bad when it comes to cards, so I have been spared her wrath.”

  “Mr Arthur, are we to still get up a walking party to Weston?” asked Lily, her eagerness shining through. “For Mrs Rowlands says that Miss Simpson and her sister would no doubt love to come, and then Lady Merrick’s nephew has come down from Oxford to visit her, and is likely bored to tears in her company. We thought perhaps you could invite him as well, and perhaps some of Captain Rowlands’ friends? I understand that Lieutenant Bingham and Major Dawlish are in town.”