by Robert Thier
Gravel crunching under its wheels, the carriage stopped in front of the large front door. It stood wide open, just as the gates, and had a red carpet, an actual red carpet in front of it. Three servants jumped forward to open the door, which impressed me very much - after all, it was only one door, with one handle.
My aunt was the first to rise and descended from the carriage as if she were the Queen of England herself. All three of the servants bowed to her, and a smile appeared on her face like that of a vulture who had just found the cadaver of a fat cow. This had to be heaven for her. She hadn’t had anyone bow to her in a very long time other than old Leadfield, and he didn’t do it very often because of his bad back.
‘Madam?’ servant one asked. He held out his hand. Graciously, my aunt took out our invitation and handed it to him.
Servant one examined it carefully, then handed it to servant two, who looked at it and nodded graciously, and then handed it to servant three, who also looked at it, and nodded even more graciously. Good gracious! I was drowning in graciousness here.
‘Very good, Madam,’ servant number one said, bowing so deeply this time his nose almost touched the ground. ‘Welcome to Lenberry Hall, home of Sir Philip Wilkins. If you and your lovely nieces would be so good as to follow me, it shall be my pleasure to conduct you into the interior of my master’s abode.’
Ella leaned over and whispered to me: ‘What did he just say?’
I grinned. ‘I think it’s his way of saying “Come on in”.’
And we both burst out in a fit of giggles. Our aunt threw us a look that could have melted lead and then said to servant number one:
‘Very well, my good man. Lead on.’
With a very flourishy flourish, servant one indicated to servants two and three to join again the other servants congregated around the open front door while he entered the house at a measured, dignified pace. We followed, not quite so dignified - at least not me - entering a large hallway, and I had to vigorously employ my jaw muscles to prevent my mouth from falling open at the sight of the opulent splendour awaiting us:
The walls were a pale beige colour, softly illuminated by large, glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Around the bottom, the walls were panelled in costly, dark woods that gave off a warm glow all of their own. Paintings of stately men hung on the walls, each in a frame that looked to be pure gold. What the floor was made out of I couldn’t really see, for it was covered with large and fancy oriental carpets - but it was sure to be something darn expensive.
‘Your coat, Miss?’ I turned my head to look at servant… three? Or was it four? Who had popped out of nowhere and was holding out his arms.
‘What about my coat?’ I asked.
‘May I take your coat, Miss?’
‘No, of course not. It’s mine.’
‘He means to keep it for you while we are here,’ my aunt hissed at me. ‘You’ll get it back later! Didn’t you pay attention to any of my lessons in etiquette?’
Preferring not to give the rather self-evident answer to that question, I divested myself of my coat and thrust it at servant three.
‘Here. Make sure nobody nicks it; it’s my only one.’
My aunt closed her eyes as if in pain. Or as if counting to ten to prevent an explosion. I wasn’t quite sure which.
Servant of unidentified number cleared his throat. ‘Err… most assuredly, Miss.’
He hurried into a small side-room in which a multitude of hats, coats and scarves was already stored. Servants number four, five and six, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, began to help my sisters and aunt out of their outer garments, which apparently everybody thought they were either unable or unwilling to do themselves. Chauvinism. Pure chauvinism.
Then, servant number one bowed once more and gestured down the hall.
‘This way, please, Madam. Sir Phillip is awaiting you.’
Anne and Maria exchanged significant looks, which said as clear as day I’m sure he is. But which one, damn you? They, along with my aunt, were the first to follow servant one down the hall. After them came Lisbeth, nearly bursting with excitement, Gertrude, quiet and demure, Ella, pale, anxious and shy, and finally me, trying my best to remain invisible to any mate-seeking men in the vicinity.
At the end of the hall waited another open door. From inside the large room beyond, I could hear laughter and chatter. Servant number one placed himself beside the door and, as we entered, called:
‘Mrs Brank and nieces.’
Not far from the door stood a tall, fair-haired young man. His hair was just about everything about him that could be called fair. His lips were too thin and his ears would have fit well on an elephant’s head. The nose, however, any elephant would have rejected, pointing out that his conk was already large enough and he didn’t need a monster like that messing up his or her perfection of elephantine beauty. An uncertain smile that quivered as if subjected to a continuous facial earthquake didn’t do anything to improve the picture.
His clothes, admittedly, were posh enough: he was impeccably dressed in a black tail coat, black trousers, white shirt and, best of all, a brilliantly colourful waistcoat showing off an elaborate pattern of red and green brocade with golden embroidery. But… you know that saying, the one about the clothes making the man? Whoever came up with that saying hadn’t seen this man, or his ears or nose.
Still, in his fine clothes he looked much richer than Mr Rikkard Ambrose with his simple black attire.
And why the blazes was I suddenly thinking of him?
I shook my head, trying to shake off the unwanted image of a familiar cold face in my mind, as the young man came towards us and bowed.
‘Mrs Brank? I am Sir Philip Wilkins. Please allow me to welcome you and your lovely nieces to my humble home.’
‘You are so kind, Sir Philip,’ simpered my aunt. I wouldn’t have thought she had that much honey in her pantry, let alone on her tongue. ‘I must say you have a truly charming house, and such attentive staff.’
‘I only have the best of everything,’ he replied, his gaze wandering dreamily over Anne and Maria. I had a sudden desire to find a bucket to be sick in.
‘That I can believe,’ my aunt told him, her normally steely voice still coated in sugar.
‘But… I do not see Mr Brank here, Madam. Is something the matter?’
Over the aunt’s face passed a cloud of sadness that was so convincing it almost fooled even me. ‘Ah, yes. Mr Brank regrets so very much that he could not attend, but he has been taken by a sudden illness and his doctor said he was not well enough to leave the house. I am to convey his sincerest apologies to you, Sir Philip.’
Sir Philip’s ears drooped. ‘Oh, I am grieved to hear about his condition. Please convey my wishes for his immediate recovery.’
Dear me. If they weren’t finished soon I’d be smothered by an excess of good manners.
Well, time to start ignoring them and survey the battlefield for the evening…
The large ballroom was even more extravagantly decorated than the waistcoat of its owner. The floor was polished dark wood, the walls a maze of gilded floral patterns. Large windows reflected the light of the enormous sparkly chandeliers, which hung from a ceiling painted with chubby little naked boys with wings on. I supposed they were cherubs - the boys, not the chandeliers.
And the people. Oh the people. They were everywhere. At least a three hundred of them filled the vast room, conversing, bowing and curtsying to one another. And at least a hundred and fifty of them were men. One, sweet, single little me against one hundred and fifty! Now were those supposed to be fair odds?
Suspiciously I eyed the masculine beasts and wondered which of those my aunt would try to marry me off to. None of them looked particularly nice. Especially compared to somebody very nice-looking I had met recently and was determined not to think of again tonight.
Darn! I had done it again! But how was I supposed to think about not thinking about him without thinking about him?
/>
‘…and this lovely lady?’ The voice directly in front of me pulled me from my thoughts. Sir Philip was standing before me, smiling his uncertain smile.
I opened my mouth to speak. ‘I am-’
‘That is my niece Lillian, Sir Philip,’ my aunt interrupted me hastily and gave me her best don’t-you-say-another-word-if-you-want-to-live-stare. Bugger! I had forgotten again. Introduction. You couldn’t just speak to someone you didn’t know, you had to be introduced first.
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Linton.’ Sir Philip bowed, took my fingers and before I could do anything to prevent it, planted a soft, moist kiss on the back of my hand.
Eww!
I tried to wipe my hand unobtrusively on my dress while Sir Philip went on to Ella.
‘And who is this lovely lady?’ he asked. It seemed to be his standard sentence when seeing any previously unknown female. But then, as he took in Ella’s delicate face, demure smile and fair skin, his behaviour abruptly deviated from the norm and his face was suffused by a deep blush.
‘My niece Ella, Sir Phillip,’ said my aunt, while Anne and Maria were competing in an ocular archery match, shooting venomous glances at Ella.
He took her hand, too, and placed a kiss on in. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance,’ he said, and it sounded like this time he really meant it. His eyes, as he looked at Ella, appeared slightly misty as if someone had hit him on the head with a wooden club. Why was he staring at her like that?
Oh no… not that. Not he of all people…
Ella, much too intimidated by the fact that she was being spoken to by a member of the male population to actually say anything in reply, just curtsied in silence, looking up at the knight as if he were a lion that might eat her any minute. She didn’t notice his dreamy gaze. But I had. Oh yes, I had.
Sir Philip bowed to and greeted the rest of us. As soon as he was finished with Gertrude, though, he returned to stand beside my aunt, which coincidentally was also next to where Ella was standing. Anne and Maria, who, for two pretty young ladies, remarkably resembled gorgons[19] at that moment, moved closer.
‘It will still be some time till the dancing begins,’ said Sir Philip, speaking to my aunt, though he was looking at Ella out of the corner of his eye. ‘Would you like me to introduce you to a few people?’
He could not have pleased my aunt more if he had asked whether he should gift her with the largest diamond in his jewel collection. To be introduced into the highest of London’s high society, and by a member of the nobility no less, and with all her six expensive, unwanted and unmarried nieces in tow to show off to the rich bachelors of the metropole - it was every one of her dreams come true at once.
She concealed her rapture well, however, and simply curtsied, saying: ‘It would be my pleasure, Sir Philip.’
‘Excellent! Then follow me, please.’
Accompanied by a swarm of servants, which I soon gave up trying to number, we were led across the ballroom to a large group of people talking and laughing in quiet tones. They were rich, stinking rich, every single one of them. I immediately disliked them. They apparently, on beholding the makeshift ball gowns of my sisters and me, shared that feeling. Wilkins didn’t seem to notice how they looked at us with their aristocratic nostrils instead of their eyes. He rushed forward and launched into a veritable storm of introductions. It wasn’t long till I had forgotten half the names he had mentioned. There were some dukes and duchesses, various lords, and finally an untold number of misters and madams. None of them particularly aroused my interest, except for an older woman whom Wilkins introduced as Lady Metcalf. I tried to remember where I had heard the name before - then I had it!
‘We have a mutual acquaintance, your Ladyship,’ I said, curtsying.
‘Do we really?’ She stared at me with her nostrils like all the other ones - only in her case the nostrils were particularly impressive: large, weathered and with little hairs sticking out at the bottom that vibrated whenever she sniffed in disdain. As she did now.
‘Yes, we do,’ I replied, plastering a huge smile on my face. ‘Miss Patsy Cusack. She told me about your very encouraging reaction to her organization of the women’s rights movement. Have you received Patsy’s answer yet?’
Lady Metcalf turned puce - whether from embarrassment, or anger, or simply because she liked to do that now and again, I didn’t know. I was putting my money on the second option, though. Before she could say anything, Sir Philip had whisked us off to meet the next Mr Somethingorother.
I was beginning to dread that he planned to introduce us to every last person in the ballroom, just to have the opportunity to be by Ella’s side for another minute or two. The way he looked at her left no doubt as to how he was feeling. As to her feelings, I wasn’t quite so sure. She said little and blushed a lot - but then, she always did that. It was impossible to determine what she thought of him and his elephant ears.
Anne and Maria’s feelings, on the other hand, were quite easily discernible. They had arrived here fully expecting to bask in Sir Philip’s admiration for the entire evening, only to be upstaged by their little sister. They looked ready to devour Ella alive. And she, sweet thing that she was, didn’t even notice.
‘… and this is Colonel Remington. Colonel Remington, may I introduce-’
Just as the Colonel bowed stiffly, his waxed upturned moustache making him look like he was trying to impale something on a fork, a gong sounded from the other side of the room and Sir Philip clapped his hands.
‘Ah! The musicians have arrived. That was the signal from my master of ceremonies. The first dance will begin soon.’
Oops! Quickly I retreated a few steps, to the very back on the group. Luckily, my aunt didn’t notice. I had to suppress the urge to turn and run. Dancing was most definitely not my forte. Not that the idea of rhythmically moving to music was so uncongenial to me, no, that wasn’t it. It was this business about having to dance in pairs - with a man, whom you were supposed to follow! That was not how I envisioned spending my evenings, thank you very much.
Now if one could discuss the way to move during a dance beforehand, on an equal footing with your partner, then democratically decide on a certain pattern, and then execute it, that would be a different matter entirely. But apparently nobody had ever thought of creating a dance like that.
I positioned myself out of sight, behind the bulk of a conveniently fat duchess. From my vantage point I could just see Wilkins bowing to Ella.
‘Miss Ella,’ he said, his lips pulling into what he probably thought was an enchanting smile. ‘Will you do me the honour of granting me your hand for the first dance?’
This was simply too much for Maria to bear.
‘I am not sure whether that would be congenial to my dear sister,’ she said, sourly. ‘This is her first night out, you see, Sir Philip, and she might not be prepared to take such a big step as opening the ball.’
‘Her first night out?’ Sir Philip brightened. ‘All the more reason to make it a special night for her! If you have no objections, Miss Ella?’
Ella, who would not in her wildest dreams have dared to object to anything proposed by a knight of the British Empire, gave a shaky little nod and placed her hand in Sir Philip's. They went off, leaving a fuming pair of twins behind them.
I grinned and quickly ducked down behind the fat duchess when my aunt turned her head in my direction, her eyes searching.
‘Lillian? Lillian, where are you?’
Thinking it unwise to respond to her question, I made my way instead to the side of the room where, behind a few extravagant tropical plants in pots, refreshment tables had been set up and chairs placed. Flopping down on one, I sighed and congratulated myself on my lucky escape. The music for the first dance had already begun to play. For now, I was saved from the mating rituals of high society.
My eyes floated to the refreshment table next to me and saw there something very agreeable - a plate of, if I was not mistaken, the same curious soli
d chocolate substance that Eve had brought along with her the other day in the park. What had she called it again? Ah yes, a chocolate bar. I took one and bit off a piece.
Aaaaah. This stuff was bliss. It seemed to fill me with peace and shoo all my worries away for a little while. The fellow who invented this should really be included in the next year’s honours list. It showed that men were good for something after all.
Chewing my chocolate bar, I watched the dances from the shadow of the potted plants. Ella seemed to be doing well, if only because, unlike me, she had no problems being steered around by a man. Anne and Maria were dancing considerably less elegantly, watching their little sister with envy instead of their own feet with care. My aunt was happy in the arms of a portly admiral. Even when the first dance ended, she didn’t come to look for me, preferring rather to watch Ella and Sir Philip. It looked like for the moment I was safe. Maybe I wouldn’t need to stab anyone with a fan after all.
I smiled to myself. What was I really worrying about? Even if my aunt wished me to dance, first a man would have to ask me. By all accounts, that was extremely unlikely. Both she and my beloved twin sisters, kind and caring family that they were, had assured me on numerous occasions how thoroughly unattractive I was to men, with my tanned skin, wild hair and wilder manners. Apparently, according to the fashion of the day I was more likely to be taken for a fishmonger’s daughter or maybe a female gorilla in a dress, than a lady men would actually be interested in, which suited me perfectly. Closing my eyes, I leaned back and popped another piece of chocolate in my mouth.
Hmm…
Just leaning back and thinking of nothing… It was so relaxing. Maybe I could sit out the entire ball like this. I mean, why would anybody come here, into this secluded corner behind the potted plants? I could just sit and wait until we went home, eating chocolate. That wouldn’t be so bad. And then the awful evening would be over, and then…
Then it would be morning again.
A familiar face appeared in front of my mind’s eye. It would be morning, and I would have to go to work.