“Yes.”
“You have me. Never leave a thought unsaid, never leave yourself questioning. Promise me that whenever you have these fears you’ll come to me first.”
“I can try. Yes, I promise.”
“Even unproven fears can do great damage. So I’ll tell you about Alicia. If you want me to.” He pressed a kiss to my lips and I would have left it at that, but he drew back. “Honesty, sweetheart. Yes, Alicia and I were lovers for a short period, shortly after Gervase left the country. I needed a friend, and Alicia was more that than anything else. She’s six years older than me, and was at a low part of her life when we met. Her husband was an army man, a friend of Carier’s. When I returned from the Grand Tour my parents insisted on, we found Alicia in the Fleet, jailed for her husband’s debts, so I paid them and started the business. I’ve never regretted it. But we never resumed our liaison. About five years ago she found a good man, Timothy Dixon, a lawyer in the City. She refuses to marry him, she says she never wants another man in control of her finances, but for all that they are a devoted couple.”
Now I felt even more foolish, but he wouldn’t allow it. “I have doubts too. About you, the way men look at you, I know they want you.” I stared at him, completely amazed. “You think it’s any easier for me?”
We came to a new understanding that day and little by little, my fears began to fade.
Chapter Six
OVER THE NEXT TWO DAYS, events began to accelerate, like a cheese rolling down a hill in one of those odd rituals they’re so fond of in the country. We received more visitors, I sat with Lady Southwood and received people I had never met before, mostly of their generation, until I met someone I actually recognised.
Rumours were beginning to spread about us. Richard had not, here in London, publicly demonstrated his affection for me but society knew this was more than a dynastic marriage. We attended a music recital I enjoyed greatly, so far forgetting myself in my enjoyment of the occasion to take Richard’s hand at one point. He let it lie there, only laughing at me later when I accused him of provoking comment. “They’ll talk whatever we do,” he said. “Do you think, my love, our sleeping arrangements aren’t common knowledge by now?”
THE DAY BEFORE MY PRESENTATION at court I had a final fitting for my Court gown with the mantua-maker, and some time with a dancing master, trying to perfect my movements.
When Richard found me practising my curtsey in front of the mirror that night, he laughed but took my hand and demonstrated a few little tricks that he used to perfect his bow. “Keep the line of your arm straight. Right to the end, then let your fingertips drop. You have long fingers, my love, you should show them off.” I listened to him and the little touches he added did seem to make a difference, although I was still mortally afraid I would trip. “Are your skirts well stiffened? Layers of buckram?”
“Yes.” I realised what he meant. If the train and the back of the skirt were stiff enough, then it would be a lot easier to push them out of the way when I walked backwards.
I had to get up early so I would have the time to dress and still arrive promptly. Pall Mall would be crammed with carriages this morning, all headed to make their presentations at court.
I bathed, donned a loose robe and had my hair dressed and thoroughly powdered before I sat at my dressing table. All I had to do was be there, nothing else. Nichols, the mantua-maker and a hairdresser attended me, fussing like chickens around the rooster. Their reputations depended on how I looked today. I felt like an artist’s model, one of those forms on which they drape the clothes to paint when you’re not there.
I disliked the current craze for enamelling but I allowed them to apply a little paint and a small patch near the corner of my mouth. Nichols’s familiarity with the language of patching ensured I didn’t commit any faux pas. I used patches occasionally but because I had never submitted my skin to the rigours of ceruse I had few blemishes to cover up. Ceruse, white lead, eventually caused terrible damage to the skin. It killed poor Lady Coventry in the end, although she had been one of the beautiful Misses Gunning and had no need of it. But the fashionable look was a deathly pallor enhanced by exaggeratedly red cheeks and women went to great lengths to achieve it. I tried not to look unusual but that was all. A country girl.
I let them dress me after that. I stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom while they laced, pinned and sewed for what seemed like hours. From a simple short-sleeved shift and a pair of tightly laced stays, my attendants arrayed me in several under-petticoats, a full oval hooped skirt, pockets, stomacher, then outer petticoat and mantua.
The gown was carefully drawn over everything. A fine red colour, thickly embroidered in silver, padded and couched and enormously heavy, but when it was on, it didn’t feel too bad. The overskirt was drawn to the back and the train pinned up behind to show the elaborate lining. I was used to the wide hoop by now but I thought it looked awkward next to the smaller, rounder fashions now in vogue. We had an old-fashioned court with an old king, who preferred to see the fashions of his prime.
I had an old necessaire, a battered silver one I’d owned for most of my life which I slipped into my pocket for luck. It had been with me for on many momentous events in my past, so I didn’t see why it should be left behind now.
Lord Southwood delivered the diamonds at the door, procured from the safe downstairs. An exquisite parure of necklace, brooches, bracelet and earrings—the Strang diamonds, compulsory on such a day as this. There used to be a hair ornament but that had been destroyed on my wedding day. A new one had been made from the jewels picked up in the carriage. I watched in the mirror as Nichols adorned me, almost as though it was happening to someone else, the maid standing by with the velvet-lined box. I eased on long white gloves, added rings and was finally ready. When I glanced at my reflection I wondered where Rose Golightly had gone, even the relatively elegant Lady Strang, and who this elegant creature was, haughty and aristocratic and not looking quite real.
The family waited in the drawing room. My mother-in-law hadn’t resisted the lure of ceruse. She looked magnificent, a neat ship in full sail, arrayed in diamonds and rubies, the central stone of the necklace a huge red teardrop, glittering as she breathed. When she saw my look of admiration, she smiled graciously. “Another of the family treasures,” she informed me.
Richard was a sight to astonish. He had chosen red, to match me but in velvet, not ribbed silk. The waistcoat was so heavily embroidered in silver and foil that the base material could hardly be seen and the edges of the coat, the pocket flaps and the cuffs were embroidered to match. The buttons and buckles on his shoes glittered frostily and he had the solitaire pin at his neck, the one he wore almost every day. To complete the ensemble, he had a richly decorated dress sword and a cocked hat decorated with silver braid at the brim.
We followed the Southwoods out to the carriages waiting for us and set off on the short journey to St. James’ Palace.
Carriages choked Piccadilly, all headed in the same direction. We joined the procession, catching glimpses of similarly attired people in the other vehicles. We used two carriages. Richard, Gervase and I were in one and Lord and Lady Southwood and Maria in the other. Gervase had also chosen red but his suit was embroidered and laced with gold and not as elaborate as Richard’s. Gervase preferred a simpler style. He wore his own fair hair long but even he had powdered, it being one of the court rules. His grin when we entered the carriage did much to depress any pretensions to grandeur I might have felt.
I sat bolt upright, not daring to move lest I disturb something, my furled fan lying under my hand on my lap. The twins sat opposite, more at their ease. Gervase even yawned from time to time.
There were far more people than usual outside St. James. This was the first major Drawing Room of the season and I wasn’t the only person due to be presented today, so Richard’s watchers were out in force. I expected to meet my family here, if we saw them in the press of people around the old, red brick palace.
If this was all we did, if we didn’t have the estate and Thompson’s to care for, I might as well degenerate into a living statue. Like the aristocracy in France who were kept at Versailles all year round and deprived of any kind of real power. It made me glad I wasn’t French, despite the beauty of the art, the clothes and the culture.
The carriages were two deep when we neared the palace but the occupants tried hard not to stare at each other as we drew abreast, not being members of the common sort. I stared at my husband instead, then at his brother. “I wish I’d thought to bring a book,” I confessed.
They smiled and Richard touched my hand. “So do I, my love. To see their faces when they noticed you were so unconcerned as to be studying would have been worth a thousand lectures from our mother.” Gervase laughed at the idea and the brothers exchanged a glance, perfectly in accord.
We reached the palace gates eventually but this was only the beginning of another tedious wait. A powdered footman in livery helped me down from the carriage and to my astonishment, I found Nichols waiting. “I have been here for some time, my lady. I walked.” I wished I had. Wasting no time she arranged my gown, especially the folds at the back and made sure my hair was still firmly skewered into place. My scalp ached already and every time I moved, pins scratched me.
Despite that, I thanked her. None of this was her fault. “I wish you could see me, Nichols. All the work is yours.”
“It wouldn’t be proper, my lady” was all the reply I received. There was nowhere private to go, so I stood in the courtyard at St. James’ Palace and underwent her ministrations. Other ladies were engaged in similar suffering and I exchanged a wry glance with one of them, a lady in silver and blue, swinging her wide hoop gently as her maid arranged her train.
At last Nichols declared herself satisfied, and Richard and I walked into the palace to join the queue inside for the Drawing Room. “Is this why you don’t come to Court often?”
“Yes. A dead bore. Of course, some days it doesn’t get this bad but it’s still a dead bore, for all that.” He turned to address his brother. “Gervase, do you plan to make this one of your regular ports of call?”
Gervase shook his head. “I never enjoyed it much but you have to come occasionally, you know, just to prove that you can.”
I laughed at his perspicacity. Court wasn’t one of Society’s favourite haunts these days. Fresher gossip and more amusing company was found elsewhere. Inside, the palace smelled of polish and dust.
The royal family preferred to stay at Kensington or one of the other palaces outside London but since Whitehall burned down eighty or so years ago, St. James was the official royal residence.
If one delved into the history of this royal family one came across some queer fish indeed. The present king was ageing and had been a widower for some time but had regular mistresses, who had to suffer all the duties of their position with none of the privileges or power their counterparts in Paris enjoyed. His son, Frederick, had been the nearest they had to a cultured, intelligent prince but he’d been dead for two years now and Frederick’s son bade fair to be a throwback to his grandfather.
The king and his son had hated each other like poison, which had added some spice to matters for some time, but royal affairs had sunk back into boredom after Prince Frederick died. This was the court of an ageing monarch who scuttled off to his beloved Hanover whenever he got the chance. Parliament all but ignored him, the aristocracy laughed behind their fans but the pretence remained. The monarch provided a clear enough reason not to change a system that worked well.
Even the Jacobite threat was exhausted. Culloden had ended Stuart hopes of a serious challenge nearly ten years ago. Now the hope of their house, Charles Edward Stuart, was degenerating into a hopeless drunk. It had been rumoured that he frequently visited London in disguise but as long as he didn’t cause any trouble, the authorities were happy to keep him under observation and let him take his amusements. After all, the more debauched he became, the less of a threat he was.
Richard and Gervase kept me amused with these tales while we slowly moved up the stairs to the drawing room. People packed the palace, all gossiping, the ladies plying their fans so it seemed the air was filled with exotic butterflies. My mother-in-law stood just in front of us, Maria behind, so I was sandwiched in by family when I saw them at the bottom of the stairs, about six steps below us.
Richard didn’t see them at first and I knew enough to let my gaze pass over them lightly, as though I hadn’t noticed. Last year I would have stared but I was learning fast. “Richard.” He immediately looked at me, hearing my note of tension. “The bottom of the staircase.”
His unnerving blue stare travelled around the hall, eventually passed down and came back to me. “I see them. We don’t have to acknowledge them.”
Steven Drury stared up at us fixedly, not attending to anyone else. He was dressed far more richly than I had ever seen him before but his handsome face was unmistakable. Taller than Richard, he towered over his little wife, the pretty, pert Julia, who seemingly hadn’t seen us yet, or perhaps her social sense was better than his.
Gervase spotted them. “Oh, Lord.”
Richard shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We had to bump into them sooner or later and it might as well be sooner. If society thinks there’s any gossip to be had, they’ll throw us into each other’s arms. But if you think it will distress you, my love—” He studied me, catching my glance, trying to steady me.
“I don’t think so. Not now. Is she being presented, do you think?”
“Highly likely. She would have been presented as Miss Cartwright but now she will be seen as respectable Mrs. Drury.”
Lady Southwood turned to speak to us, then she too saw the Drurys and she halted, her fan at her mouth to hide her words. “What an unfortunate thing. Should we bow?”
“You should, Mother, if they know you’ve seen them,” Richard said. “Or you can cut them if you wish. They gave us reason enough.”
We received our instruction from my fatherin-law. “Bow.” Lady Southwood inclined her head graciously, the first person in the family to acknowledge the Drurys. Richard and I continued to ignore them but we didn’t admit we had seen them, so we couldn’t be said to have cut them.
The great ruby at Lady Southwood’s neck flashed as she sighed. “They’ll call on us now.”
“Receive them in company,” her husband advised. “Not alone. And don’t give them any encouragement.”
“I suppose I must.”
Until now the Drurys had taken all my attention but I deliberately looked away, in the opposite direction. I saw Martha, Lizzie, Ruth and James, not too far in front of us. With them, to my delight, were Georgiana and Tom, looking as fine as fivepence. Georgiana wore a perfectly acceptable Court gown, borrowed from Maria, who had sent her other gown round to see if it would suit. Maria looked nervous and I hoped my nerves weren’t showing when we reached the door of the room where the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland waited. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself.
Suddenly I felt calm and looked forward to getting the ritual over with. After all, how bad could it be?
Despite it being October, the crowded room we entered was hot. Fires blazed in the hearths and the press of people added to the heat. I smelled sweat, distinct and unpleasant. Court gowns couldn’t be washed and some were probably put away by less fastidious maids without brushing them down with Fuller’s Earth first. The next time they were brought out, they were perfumed to disguise the odour but unfortunately, heat brings out the stink of sweat and camphor, as well as perfume.
I lifted my fan to my face to mask some of the smells, glad it was perfumed, and heard the thin strains of a musical quartet hard at work. Nobody listened to them. We slowly moved forward into the room and my brother’s party moved ahead of us.
The spectators took a special interest when Lizzie went forward, especially the men. She appeared indifferent to everything but the two glittering figure
s waiting to receive her and sank into a graceful curtsey. When she stood, the duke and duchess had a few words for her, then she had to back away, down the length of the room. Ruth began her gliding walk forward and Lizzie nearly stumbled. She faltered, smiled, showing the slight dimples on either side of her mouth and stopped, then put her hand behind her gown to rearrange the folds that had become entangled. The duchess bowed her head and smiled at her. Lizzie didn’t look around, then smiled back, bowed her head and finished the backwards glide. I heard someone behind us hiss, “See? That’s what you do if your heel gets stuck.”
Ruth managed the manoeuvre but without much grace. I guessed her nervousness matched mine. After a few more girls making their debut came my turn. Lizzie’s stumble had made the whole room buzz and her mischievous smile when she stopped had probably bewitched more than a few but they stopped to watch me.
With a kiss on the tips of my fingers, Richard relinquished me to his mother and with only a glance in my direction, Lady Southwood glided forward. I went with her, my trembling invisible. The brocaded mantua felt heavy on my shoulders and hips but the weight of the material helped me to keep my balance. My heart pounded and I concentrated hard on keeping control of every part of my body. I managed a creditable curtsey, watched by every soul in that room. They wanted to see what sort of woman Lord Strang had married and why he hadn’t chosen their daughters instead.
Stubborn determination filled me and I vowed to do my husband and myself proper justice. The curtsey was good but remembering the little tricks Richard had taught me, the rising up was better. I heard his voice in my head: “Take your time, don’t let anything rush you.” That had nearly been Lizzie’s downfall, so I paused when I stood, drew my hands in gently and in time with the rest of my body.
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