The Daughter of Highland Hall

by Carrie Turansky

  Kate wished he had, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She glanced at her aunt’s stern expression and decided it was best not to reply.

  Louisa would accompany Kate to the palace as her sponsor, and she was dressed for the occasion in an elegant dark-green brocade gown. A diamond tiara had been tucked into her upswept hairstyle, and around her neck she wore an elaborate emerald-and-diamond necklace.

  “I’m sure Kate will do well.” Julia reached out and gently ran her hand over the satin-covered buttons that attached Kate’s train to the back of her dress at her shoulders. “She has natural grace and poise.” She caught Kate’s gaze in the mirror once more and sent her a reassuring smile.

  But Louisa’s lips tightened to a firm line. “When you enter the palace, you’ll carry the train over your left arm until you reach the throne room, then you gently ease it down to the floor. The pages will spread it out behind you before you approach the king and queen.”

  Kate nodded, though it seemed her mind was swimming through a thick fog.

  “Remember to carry your bouquet in your right hand, and your presentation card in your left. You won’t be allowed to take anything else into the palace with you.”

  Kate nodded again. She had gone over each step in her mind countless times. But what if she dropped her bouquet or her mind went blank and she forgot how to curtsy? There was so much to remember, and she had only one opportunity to do it well.

  Louisa narrowed her eyes as she looked into the mirror. “Her hair is fuller on the left than it is on the right. That will never do.” She turned toward Lydia with an impatient huff. “Chambers, fix her hair.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” Lydia picked up the comb, stepped around to the right, and carefully fluffed out Kate’s hair a bit, checking her handiwork in the mirror.

  “That looks perfect,” Julia said. “Thank you, Lydia.”

  Louisa motioned toward the gauzy veil on the bed. “Attach the headpiece, and we’ll see if her hair still looks balanced.”

  Lydia placed the comb on the dressing table and carefully lifted the veil with the two white ostrich plumes attached at the top. The feathers trembled slightly as she placed them at the back of Kate’s head, poking the comb and hard tip of the feathers into Kate’s hair.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl, that is not the right angle!” Louisa slapped Lydia’s hands away. “Do you want her to look like a peacock?”

  The maid gasped. “No, m’lady. I’m sorry. I’ve never seen one of these before.”

  “Don’t make excuses. You are a lady’s maid. You should know how to arrange hair and attach a headpiece.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” Lydia blinked several times as she stepped back.

  “It’s all right, Lydia.” Julia laid her hand on the maid’s arm. “This is new to all of us.”

  “Except Aunt Louisa,” Penny added. “She was presented to Queen Victoria.”

  “That’s right.” Louisa’s frown faded and a faint smile lifted her lips. “I was only seventeen, and I kissed her hand.”

  Kate shuddered at the thought. “I’m glad they’ve dropped that part of the presentation.”

  Louisa turned her attention back to attaching Kate’s headpiece. “It must be lower, so the plumes rise just a few inches above her head.” Her aunt jammed the feathers in deeper.

  “Ouch!” Kate winced and pulled away. “That’s my scalp!”

  Her aunt ignored her cry and wiggled the feathers into place. “We don’t want them to come loose or flop about.”

  Penny laughed and shook her head. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

  Louisa glared at Penny. “This is not a laughing matter, Penelope. Katherine’s every move will be judged and reported in the newspaper tomorrow. And all the society matrons who have eligible sons will be reading the article and taking notes.”

  Julia glanced at Louisa. “Surely with so many young women being presented, they won’t all be mentioned in the paper, will they?”

  “No, they won’t, but Katherine will. I’ve made sure of it.”

  Kate swung around and faced her aunt. “What do you mean?”

  “My brother-in-law is acquainted with the owner of the Daily Sketch. And your uncle Albert paid a generous sum to assure that you will be one of the debutantes who is mentioned.”

  A bolt of panic shot through Kate. “Oh, Aunt Louisa! Now I’m going to be even more nervous.”

  Her aunt’s cheeks flushed, but she waved away Kate’s words. “You should be grateful. Only six girls will be featured in the article.”

  Kate stood and tried to take a deep breath, but it was impossible. “Can we please loosen this corset? I can hardly breathe.”

  “We don’t have time for that now.” Louisa fussed with Kate’s train.

  “I have to catch my breath, or I’m sure I’ll faint dead away before I even reach the throne room!”

  Louisa gripped Kate’s shoulder. “Look at me, Katherine.”

  Kate stilled and focused on her aunt.

  “Your uncle and I have invested a great deal of money in your gowns and lessons, and you’ve spent months preparing for today. Now you must pull yourself together and act like the gracious and confident young woman you’ve been trained to be. Do you understand?”

  Making a good impression at her presentation would help her be accepted in London society, and that was her key to freedom … the only way she could have a life of her own. She swallowed and nodded.

  Louisa stepped closer, and her heavy perfume enveloped Kate like a noxious cloud. “Promise me you’ll do your best.”

  Kate straightened, holding her breath. “I will.”

  “All right.” Her aunt’s stern expression eased. “I need to collect a few things from my room before we go. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.” She turned to Lydia. “Help Katherine manage the train.”

  “Yes, m’lady.” Lydia bobbed a quick curtsy.

  Louisa turned and sailed out the door with a swish of her emerald gown.

  “I wish I was going.” Penny released a wistful sigh.

  Julia placed her hand on Penny’s back as she guided her toward the door. “I’m sure you’ll do just as well as Kate when it’s your turn. Let’s go find Millie. She wants to help see Kate off.” Julia turned to Kate with a smile. “We’ll see you downstairs.”

  “All right.” Kate turned and stared toward the mirror once more. She might not appreciate her aunt’s tone, but what she said was true. Kate had dreamed about her presentation for months, and she must make the most of this opportunity, especially now that a reporter would be watching.

  Being featured in the newspaper would practically guarantee that she would receive invitations right away—if everything went well.

  She turned to Lydia. The maid stood by the bed, slump-shouldered, staring at the carpet. “I’m sorry my aunt was so harsh. I’m afraid she’s not known for her patience, especially with the staff.”

  Lydia looked up. “It’s all right, miss. I’m used to it.” Her expression remained pained and somber.

  “Is there something else?”

  Lydia bit her lip, and her eyes filled. “I was thinking of my sister Helen.”

  “Your sister? What’s wrong? Is she ill?”

  “No, miss, she’s run away from home, and we don’t know where she is.”

  Kate pulled in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you, miss.”

  Kate’s mind spun. How could the girl just disappear? That didn’t make sense. “Surely someone knows what’s happened to her.”

  “My father has been searching for her and talking to the folks in the village. He’s even offered a reward.”

  “That should prompt someone to come forward.”

  “I hope so, miss.” Lydia sighed and shook her head. “Helen’s a dear girl, but she’s a dreamer.”

  “That’s not always a negative quality.”

  “No, but it can leave a woman open to temptation, and I’m afraid that’s
what’s happened to Helen.” Tears glistened in Lydia’s eyes. She sniffed and looked away. “I’m sorry, miss. I’ve no call to get all teary-eyed and put a damper on your happy day.”

  “It’s all right. If anything happened to my sister, I know I’d be upset and want to do whatever I could to help her.”

  “That’s just it, miss. There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do.”

  If only she could give a practical suggestion to ease Lydia’s distress. Julia would probably offer to pray for Lydia right then and there if she were with them. Kate wished she could do the same, but she wasn’t comfortable praying aloud. She’d only been learning to say private prayers these last few months, since Julia had come to stay at Highland as her governess.

  She reached for Lydia’s hand. “I’ll pray for Helen and for you.”

  Lydia’s expression eased. “Thank you, miss. That’s very kind.”

  Kate shook her head, wishing it were more. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Lydia bent down to pick up the end of Kate’s train. “We’d better go downstairs.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. We don’t want to keep my aunt waiting too long.”

  A slight smile lifted the maid’s lips. “No, miss. We most definitely do not.”

  THREE

  Jon slid his draught piece across the board and glanced at Andrew. The lad was a surprisingly skilled opponent, and he had already jumped several of Jon’s pieces.

  Andrew studied the board a few seconds, then a smile broke across his face. “I see what you’re doing.” He picked up one of his pieces and jumped over one of Jon’s, and then jumped a second, landing in the corner space of the last row. “Crown me!”

  Jon groaned and sat back. “How did I miss that?”

  Andrew’s eyes danced as Jon crowned the boy’s piece.

  William lowered his newspaper, glanced at his son, and then at the board. “Don’t be too hard on him, Andrew.”

  Jon held up his hand. “No, play your best game, Andrew. Don’t hold back on my account.”

  The boy grinned. “All right, I will. It’s your move.”

  Jon rubbed his chin and studied the board.

  Millie rushed into the drawing room. “It’s time! Kate’s ready. Come and see.”

  Andrew spun around and knocked into the draughts board, sending the pieces flying across the drawing-room carpet. He winced and looked at Jon. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” Jon bent and scooped up a few pieces.

  Andrew scrambled across the rug to help.

  William stood and folded the newspaper. “Let’s clean up the rest later. We don’t want to miss seeing Kate off.”

  Andrew jumped up and dashed out to the entrance hall. William sighed with a weary smile. “I’m sorry. Andrew rarely slows down.”

  “It’s all right. I enjoy his zest for life.”

  William chuckled, and he and Jon walked into the entrance hall together.

  Julia met them at the bottom of the stairs along with Millie and Lady Gatewood. Lawrence and the two young footmen waited by the front door.

  Penny appeared at the top of the staircase and leaned over the banister, her face glowing with a happy smile. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, we’re all waiting,” Lady Gatewood replied with an impatient sigh.

  Penny moved to the side, and Kate stepped into view.

  From where Jon stood, he could only see her head and shoulders, but that was enough to make him catch his breath.

  Kate’s golden brown hair was swept up in a most appealing fashion, and two white feathers fluttered softly overhead as she began her descent. Around her neck she wore a pearl choker with a diamond-and-pearl pendant. One look at her creamy white neck and shoulders above the beaded bodice of her dress was enough to make him swallow hard.

  Kate’s usually confident expression had been replaced by a guarded, searching look as she continued down the stairs. When she rounded the turn at the lower landing, the rest of her figure came into view. Her dress looked like a shimmering cloud of white, with its full skirt and the lacy veil and long train spreading out behind her on the stairs … just like a royal bride dressed to meet her noble groom.

  All he could do was stare in stunned silence. He swallowed again and tried to take a breath, but his chest seemed locked tight.

  “So, what do you think?” Kate directed her question to William.

  “You look beautiful. I’m sure every head will turn when you walk into the throne room.”

  Millie stepped forward. “Here are your flowers.” The little girl held out a large, fragrant bouquet fashioned of white roses and jasmine with a few trailing vines of variegated ivy.

  Kate reached for the flowers. “Thank you, Millie.” She lifted her gaze to meet Jon’s, a question shimmering in her blue eyes.

  He opened his mouth, wanting to say she looked breathtakingly beautiful, but somehow he couldn’t form those words. Instead he forced a smile. “Good luck, Kate. I hope it goes well.”

  Her countenance faltered for a split second. “Thank you,” she murmured, then turned away.

  “Come along.” Lady Gatewood swept toward the front door. “There will be a huge crowd of carriages, and we don’t want to be last in line.”

  Julia stepped forward and kissed Kate’s cheek. “We’ll be praying for you.”

  “Thank you.” Kate glanced at Jon once more.

  He sent her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

  Lawrence opened the door, and Lady Gatewood led the procession outside. Millie scurried to help Kate with her train.

  Lady Gatewood turned. “For goodness’ sake, Katherine, pick up your train and place it over your arm. You don’t want it to get dirty!”

  Kate’s face flushed as she bent to scoop up the train and carefully drape it over her left arm.

  Everyone followed Kate out the door and down the front steps. The carriage waited on the drive, the door festooned with flowers and ribbons that matched Kate’s bouquet. One of the footmen sprang forward, opened the carriage door, and offered Lady Gatewood his hand to help her climb in. Kate climbed in after, and the second footman tucked her long train around her feet before he carefully closed the door.

  Julia slipped her arm through Jon’s and leaned closer. “I hope she’ll be all right.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he answered in an equally low tone.

  “Kate puts on a brave front, but I can tell she’s nervous.”

  “Really? She always seems so confident.”

  “Didn’t you see her hand shake when she took her flowers?”

  He tensed and glanced her way. “No, I didn’t notice.”

  The two footmen climbed up to their position standing at the back of the carriage. The smartly dressed driver slapped the reins, and the horses pulled forward. Kate looked out the carriage window, lifted her white-gloved hand, and waved as the carriage rolled down the drive.

  “Good-bye!” Penny followed the carriage until it passed out the gate and into the street.

  Jon waved with the others. Too bad they couldn’t all go along to the palace and see how Kate fared. But that wasn’t done. Her aunt would accompany her into the throne room, but Kate would be on her own, those last few steps, as she curtsied before the king and queen.

  Be with her, Father. Give her courage and grace. Guide her through today and into the right path for her future.

  Andrew tugged on his sleeve. “Can we finish our game?”

  Jon watched the carriage disappear around the corner. He lowered his gaze to the lad. “I’m afraid we’ll have to start over.”

  “That’s all right. Maybe it will give you a chance to win.”

  Jon’s teasing growl filled the air as he chased Andrew up the steps and back into the house.

  Kate gripped the ribbon-wrapped stem of her bouquet and followed the long procession moving slowly down the high-ceilinged hallway of Buckingham Palace. The scent of roses and jasmine floated in the air.


  She glanced at the women walking ahead of her. Each one who would be presented wore a white satin gown with a veil and carried her long train draped over her arm just like Kate. Their dresses were unique, though the rules of court dress made them share some common features.

  The soft red carpet hushed their footsteps, and the only sounds were the rustle of satin and petticoats swishing around the women’s ankles and an occasional hushed exchange between a debutante and her sponsor.

  Aunt Louisa walked beside Kate, scanning the line and sizing up the other women. She leaned toward Kate. “There is Gertrude Hoffman,” she whispered, “and I believe that is her new daughter-in-law, Priscilla.”

  Kate nodded, though she had no idea which women her aunt was talking about.

  The procession slowed to a stop as the next group entered the throne room, and a decorative barricade was placed in front of the open doorway.

  Kate shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling her shoes sink into the carpet. Her left shoe felt tighter than the right, and that foot was beginning to go numb. Wonderful. Soon she’d be hobbling her way into the throne room. She wiggled her toes, trying to relieve the painful sensation, but it was useless. If only she could sit down, remove her shoe, and rub her toes back to life.

  Hoping to distract herself from her painful foot, she glanced at the large painting on the wall to the left, but the rather gruesome battle scene didn’t hold her interest. She scanned the line of women ahead, trying to tell how long it would be until she reached the throne room.

  Why was it so warm and stuffy? The heavy train draped over her arm felt like a hot, sticky blanket. Moisture gathered between her shoulder blades and trickled down her back. She sighed and glanced toward the tall window to her right, wishing someone would push it open and let in a cool breeze. She smoothed her gloved hand over her skirt.

  “For heaven’s sake, hold still and stop fussing,” Aunt Louisa hissed.

  “I’m not fussing. I’m simply trying to get comfortable.” Kate straightened her posture and tried to look serene, but doubts stormed her heart.

  She tried to recall the compliments William had given her before she left the house and Julia’s encouraging words, but they faded as her aunt’s critical comments flooded back. The entire ride to the palace Kate had listened to a litany of her shortcomings and warnings of what would happen if she failed to remember her training. Why, just once, couldn’t her aunt say something encouraging or reassuring?