Anna Jacobs (4 page)

A knock on the door heralded the entrance of the same small maid who had helped her unpack the night before, this time come to light the fire. “Shall I fetch your hot water up yet, miss? And would you like a tea tray? And if you please, her ladyship says to tell you that I’m to help you get ready and look after your things until you find a lady’s maid of your own.”

“I don’t need any help, thank you.”

The girl’s face fell so dramatically that Beatrice was moved to ask her what was wrong. The Dowager frequently grew angry with her for paying so much attention to servants, but it was one thing she refused to change. Servants were people with the same feelings as anyone else and one of the few powers she had was to make their lives a little more pleasant by showing her appreciation for their services.

“Please miss, I know I’m not a real lady’s maid, but Sarah, what maids for her ladyship, she’s been giving me lessons and she says I have a knack with hair, and I’m good with the ironing and mending, too. I won’t let you down, honest I won’t!”

Beatrice realized from this that she would be blighting the young maid’s big chance in life if she denied needing any help. She couldn’t possibly refuse such a plea. “Very well, then.”

The thin face was instantly radiant. “Oh, miss, you won’t be sorry! I’ll be ever so careful, you’ll see. Now, I’ll just go and fetch you a tea tray, then I’ll get your hot water, and afterwards, I’ll get your things ready. Sarah’s shown me ‘zactly what to do.” The words poured out in an enthusiastic stream.

“Just a moment!”

“Yes, miss?”

“You haven’t told me your name.”

“Ooh, so I haven’t! Sorry, miss! I’m Tilly. Short for Matilda.”

So Beatrice submitted to the first of her London ordeals and allowed herself to be attended by the eager Tilly, who wouldn’t let her do a thing for herself, but who really did have a deft touch with hair and who absolutely radiated happiness as she reverently performed her duties.

Breakfast was not until nine and Beatrice, an inveterate early riser, felt the day was half gone by the time she made her way down to the small dining-room. She was already at table when Johanna floated in, still dressed in a chamber gown.

“Ah, there you are, Bea! Did you sleep well?”

“Very well.”

“Of course you did go to bed much earlier than I did. But then, I’ve never been much good in the mornings. How dreadfully energetic you look!” She yawned again and languidly helped herself to a piece of toast. “Did Tilly look after you all right? Sarah thought we might give her a tryout, but if she’s not suitable you must tell me. In any case, we’ll soon find you a proper lady’s maid.”

“Oh, no!” Beatrice exclaimed involuntarily.

“Why, whatever do you mean?”

“I - I prefer to look after myself.”

“Well, you can’t do that in London, silly, whatever you do at Satherby. Why, I dare say I change my clothes four or five times a day, and you’ll be doing the same. You’re going to need someone to look after your things. Mama said I was to find you the best lady’s maid to be had, and never mind the expense. In fact, we’re not to consider the expense of anything. What delicious fun we’re going to have!”

“Oh, dear!”

Johanna grinned at her. “Has she been laying down the law to you about what you’re to do and not do?”

“Well, she has, rather. And I’ve no ambitions to look like a fashion plate. I prefer to feel comfortable. A real lady’s maid would be sure to despise me! Your Sarah does already!”

Johanna burst out laughing. “No, she doesn’t! She wouldn’t dare! That’s just her way of maintaining her dignity.” She studied Beatrice carefully. “You know, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think you’re shyer than either of my girls were, Bea, and they were years younger than you when they came out. You shouldn’t be so modest! I prophesy you’ll take very well. Any maid would be pleased to look after you. They have their pride, you know, and you’re prettier than I remember, or you will be, once we’ve got you properly gowned and your hair dressed to better advantage. Besides which, you have a very substantial dowry, and that’s sure to - “

Beatrice dropped her knife. “I have what?”

“Surely Mama told you how much she’s decided to settle on you?”

Beatrice’s cheeks were burning. “No!”

“Didn’t you even ask?”

“No!”

“Well, isn’t that just like her? She adores making mysteries. And how like you to be embarrassed by it. Don’t colour up, you silly goose! In my opinion, a woman should know her own worth to the penny. Why, my girls knew exactly what they would bring to their husbands before they were even twelve years old!”

Beatrice was speechless. Aunt Marguerite always said that marriage was a business, but to calculate the exchange rates so openly filled her with embarrassment. A very substantial dowry might buy her a husband whose birth didn’t displease the Dowager, but would it bring her a man to whom she herself could warm?

“Anyway,” Johanna went on, not noticing her guest’s utter demoralization, “Mama’s decided to settle twenty thousand pounds on you. That should give you a good range of choice, once the word gets about. Beatrice! Beatrice, where are you going?” She stared open-mouthed at the half-open door. The sound of her cousin running up the stairs floated back to her.

“Well, Mama said you were nervous about all this, but she didn’t tell me you were so very touchy!” she said aloud. “No wonder she left it to me to tell you about the dowry!”

After a minute, she smiled to herself and murmured, “Still, such modesty might set a new style, if I play it well.” She reached for another piece of toast and smeared it liberally with butter and blackberry conserve, her thoughts busy with plans for launching her cousin. An evening party first, with a full-scale ball later. A few dinners and visits to the theatre, and who knew what else would be on offer from other hostesses? What fun it would all be!

Upstairs, Beatrice was staring unhappily out of her bedroom window, breakfast forgotten. “What am I to do?” she whispered, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. “How am I to face it all? Twenty thousand pounds! It’s far too much! No one will care what I’m like - they’ll just be interested in my money! And Aunt Marguerite knew, she knew perfectly well, that I’d have to accept it after my promise to her!”

It was over an hour before she could calm down enough to face Johanna again. The only thing which kept her to her promise of finding a husband was the thought that as a married woman she would be better placed to protect Eleanor. And her niece’s happiness mattered very much indeed to her.

Tilly came up to find her eventually, to let her know that her ladyship was nearly ready to go out shopping. Beatrice asked automatically for her cloak, but Tilly shook her head. “Cloaks isn’t worn for shopping in London, miss. I’ll unpack the rest of your things for you while you’re out, but perhaps you can tell me if you’ve got a pelisse or spencer you like to wear with that dress? If it needs ironing, I can easily run down to the maids’ room and smooth it over. We always keep the flat irons near the fire on a special stand.”

She was obviously bursting to help and was as good as her word, returning within minutes carrying Beatrice’s perfectly-ironed pelisse reverently across her arms. “Here you are, miss.”

As she smoothed the pelisse with tender hands, Beatrice watched her thoughtfully. She hated the idea of having her life invaded by a starchy lady’s maid, like the one who served Johanna. The majestic Sarah ruled her mistress with a rod of iron where her appearance was concerned. That would not at all suit Beatrice. Perhaps, though, if she could persuade her cousin that Tilly was able to cope, things might not turn out too badly. She already felt comfortable with the girl, who was cheerful and willing.

“Is it your ambition to become a lady’s maid, then?” she asked casually as she prepared to go downstairs.

“Ooh, yes, miss! And Sarah says I may just do and she’s been giving me lessons for ages now. I’m to be available to help guests, you see, now Mary’s left, and I’m to get an extra guinea a year if you’re satisfied with me this time.”

She looked so anxious about it all that Beatrice smiled and said in her gentle way, “Well, you’ve been doing an excellent job so far, Tilly.”

She was rewarded by another beaming smile.

Beatrice nodded as she studied her reflection, for Tilly had managed to tame the heavy hair that gave its owner so much trouble and it now lay in sleek waves on her brow, with the back hair looped neatly up. If I really do have to have a maid, she thought, watching Tilly’s still-smiling face behind her in the mirror, I think I’d much prefer a cheerful young girl like her. Did Johanna say we’d have to change our clothes four or five times a day? Oh dear! How tedious! However many clothes will I need for that?

Johanna looked her cousin over critically when she came downstairs again, then nodded. “Not the height of fashion, but a neat enough turnout. Trust Mama to find you a good country dressmaker. Anyway, we’ll soon improve on that and have you cutting a dash in town.” She hesitated before adding, “Are you over the shock of finding yourself a rich woman, yet, love?”

Beatrice shook her head ruefully. “I’m sorry if I seemed rude, but Johanna, I still can’t believe it! How can I accept so much money from your mother? I have no right to it!”

“Just say thank you and be grateful. Mama’s extremely rich, you know, and she never does anything she doesn’t want to. And look how you’ve put up with her for all these years. We all know what an autocrat she is.”

“She’s been very kind to me - in the circumstances.”

Johanna screwed up her nose. “Well, I think it was quite gothic of her family to cut your father off without a penny like that and leave everything to Mama!”

Beatrice shrugged. “That was all over and done with long ago. It still doesn’t entitle me to such a - a fortune!”

“You’ve earned every penny, I promise you. Now, let’s forget about all that nonsense and go and see Odette. She’s been my modiste for years. She charges prodigiously high, but she’s a genius, my dear, an absolute genius. You’ll soon be setting the fashion if you put yourself in her hands. And Mama did say we were to spare no expense.”

Beatrice sighed audibly.

“Don’t you like clothes?” Johanna’s tone was incredulous.

“Well, I do normally, of course I do, but at the moment I feel like an offering being prepared for sacrifice. I - I dare say I’ll grow used to the idea.” She smiled bravely.

Johanna roared with laughter. “Oh, Bea, you’ll be the death of me yet! Grow used to it, indeed! You should revel in the idea of being worth twenty thousand pounds. Mama’s kept you too quiet, but don’t worry, I’ll soon teach you how to enjoy yourself.”

Wisely Beatrice did not try to contradict her, but she rather doubted that she would enjoy city life among so many strangers. She allowed Johanna to gossip about fashions all the way to the modiste’s, but her own thoughts were still in turmoil. Twenty thousand pounds! she kept thinking. Too much. Far too much.

It’d attract fortune hunters.

She couldn’t help remembering the hardships she and her mother had suffered and it occurred to her that only a fraction of that dowry disbursed earlier would have made them both comfortable and perhaps kept her mother alive for longer. Fate could be so capricious! She took a deep breath and reminded herself, as she had many times before, that the Dowager hadn’t known of their circumstances and thus could not be held to blame for their difficulties.

The two ladies were granted the honour of an immediate interview with Mademoiselle Odette herself, and Johanna explained her cousin’s needs and aspirations so frankly that Beatrice was soon blushing again.

Odette nodded briskly and turned to study her new customer. Even Johanna’s tongue was stilled as she watched the modiste.

“Will you please stand up and walk about, Miss Dencey? Yes, now sit down. Stand up again. Turn round. Hmm! Let me think. Do please sit down again!”

Beatrice sank gratefully onto a spindly gilt chair and stared at the carpet, feeling more than ever like a sacrificial victim.

After a few minutes, during which Odette moved to survey Beatrice from several angles, her impersonal fingers turning her new client’s head first one way, then the other, the modiste nodded. “We shall set a new fashion with Miss Dencey, I think, your ladyship. Restrained, ladylike elegance. Simple, but exquisite. The shyness will enhance this. Good colours, wonderful fabrics, no fuss. You’ll see.” She began to take Beatrice’s measurements, nodding in approval as she called them off to an assistant.

When that was over, Johanna nodded in a friendly way. “I’ll leave it all to you, then, Odette. How soon can you have something ready?”

“Within a day or two. Which garments would you like made up first, Lady Ostdene?”

“Something for paying morning calls, something for walking in the park - oh, and an evening gown, of course.”

“I’ll send them round as soon as they’re ready, your ladyship. A fitting of a toile tomorrow, if you please, Miss Dencey, to give us the exact sizing, then we’ll make up a padded figure for everything but the final fittings. Price?” She cocked her head on one side like a bright-eyed bird.

Beatrice had no idea and looked to Johanna for help.

“The price is irrelevant, Odette. As long as you live up to your usual standards. I wish my cousin to be noticed.”

Odette’s eyes gleamed. “Have you ever known me to fail, your ladyship?”

Johanna was admiring herself in a mirror. “No, you don’t normally fail. This is quite one of my favourites, Odette.”

“It does look well on your ladyship.”

Johanna turned her attention to Beatrice. “My cousin is a little different from the usual young lady making her debut in society.”

“Yes, indeed. Colours will make a nice change from whites and pastels, your ladyship. And, if I may say so, Miss Dencey may be older than the usual young lady making her debut, but she has character and resolution in her face. With her height and figure, we cannot fail to make a good impression.”

By this time, Beatrice was again scarlet with embarrassment. She felt as if she’d done nothing but blush and stutter since she arrived in London. She hated to be a focus of attention, absolutely hated it.