Clarissa and the Poor Relations (2 page)

‘Do you wish to go and live with your brother who will try to sell you in marriage to the highest bidder again?’ demanded Clarissa.

‘I shall be there only long enough to find a new situation.’ declared Oriana. ‘Besides, he cannot force me.’

‘But he can make life as unbearable for you as John can for me. You know that getting another position is unlikely. Finding this situation suited you, but you are far too beautiful to be accepted as a governess in most houses.’

Oriana bent her head and bit her lip. Clarissa leant forward and grasped her tightly clasped hands in both of her own.

‘Would you not rather be of use to me?’ She said pleadingly. ‘Look, when mamma died and we knew we had to close the school at the end of the year, all of us thought that we would need to part, to break up our cosy life here. Then, when my cousin died so unexpectedly, I thought I could use my inheritance to help us all.’ She turned impulsively, ‘Appleby, dearest, you do not really wish to go and live with your cousin Farnham and all those dreadful little children, do you? You know that you’ll be treated as an unpaid servant in that house.  I remember the exhausted state you were in when you returned from there last summer.’ Miss Appleby made inarticulate noises in faint protest. ‘I truly need a companion, one who I can talk to of my mamma and papa and who understands me as well as you do. You would not abandon me?’

Miss Appleby took the badly used handkerchief from Clarissa’s grasp and sobbed into it. ‘Oh, my dear Clarissa - so kind…if I could only be sure I would not be a burden to you…’

Clarissa turned her burning eyes and determined young face to her other friends, not so easily moved as Miss Appleby.

‘You have not thought, my dear Clarissa, what living in a house such as Ashcroft would entail. If your brother is right and the estate has been neglected then perhaps it is right to sell. Then you and Miss Appleby could set up your own establishment in Bath.’ Oriana’s honeyed voice sought to calm down Clarissa’s spirits.

‘You are correct in thinking that I do know what running an estate entails - that is why I need
you
to show me, Oriana.’

Sir Ralph Petersham had involved his daughter in many male pursuits, riding roughshod over her mother’s complaints. He had included her in all estate matters and she had proved so apt a pupil that he had left a deal of responsibility in her hands. When his son Fitzroy came home from Cambridge in the vacations, he was often adjured to ‘Ask Oriana what’s what.’  When the young man had shied away from including Oriana in what he had felt to be his domain and had thus done something unwise, his father had trenchantly ordered, ‘Leave it to your sister next time.’ Sir Ralph had meant his beautiful daughter to be the wife of a great man, able to stand at his side as an equal, as his own wife had never done, and had he lived who knows what might not have happened.

As it was, a jealous brother had been the one to oversee Oriana’s come-out in London and he had been pleased to accept, on her behalf, an offer from an Earl who was both wealthy and approaching sixty. Oriana’s disgrace in calling off her wedding and her brother’s consequent anger had induced her to seek her position at Mrs Thorne’s Academy. Her brother, still questioned by the world about the fate of his beautiful sister, had never forgiven her.

‘Mother always said that Ashcroft was a prosperous estate at the time of my uncle and my cousin has only owned it for five years. He was a sad rake and possibly a libertine but
surely
he could not have done so much harm in that time. Oriana, you could help me make it prosperous again. Don’t you see, far from being a
tax
on me you can be a
real help
to me.’

Oriana’s eyes sparkled then dulled again, ‘If only I could, my dear. We do not know the people… they would have to come to
trust
us Clarissa, but with the help of a good agent…’  She tried to look in Clarissa’s eyes , for signs of the charity that she would so deplore but saw only hope and determination. ‘Oh
, could
we?’ she said.

Clarissa leapt to her feet and danced Oriana to hers. ‘My dear, so you’ll come.’ She and Oriana shrieked and danced about the room. Just as abruptly she stopped and turned to Miss Micklethwaite.

‘Dearest Waity, you know that I shall need you to help me set the house in order.’

Miss Micklethwaite’s frown became more terrible. ‘You do not need me to feed as well.’

‘For all my Greek and Latin, I have not learned any of the housekeeping things a lady should know, for how could dear mamma teach me what she did not know herself? And we need you to scare away the dragons, Waity. Just
think
what attentions I might receive from mushrooms like the curate if I have not you by me to lend respectability. As for Oriana, you know we dare not send her out without she comes home followed by some smitten gentleman.’

A gasp from Oriana at this made Miss Micklethwaite smile sourly.

‘And I should
so
value your support my dear Augusta,’ said Miss Appleby gently, ‘for in the absence of any gentleman, I cannot but feel you are the next best thing. - Why, what can I have said to make you go into such transports of laughter, Clarissa, Oriana.’

But the young ladies were laughing so hard at the outrage on Waity’s face that they had to grasp onto each other to keep upright. Miss Micklethwaite’s forehead smoothed a trifle.

‘I think, Louisa, that you and I will be needed to keep these two in check.’ she said.

‘Well, if you think so, Augusta, then of course we shall go.’ said Miss Appleby in a confused voice.

‘I do,’ said Miss Micklethwaite, her grim voice repressing the unseemly levity of the young ladies, ‘And what is more we had better go now to change for dinner. Perhaps I can find some knee breeches.’

‘
Knee breeches.
Whatever can you mean?’ said Miss Appleby to the retreating back of her friend. ‘Girls?’ she uttered vaguely. But it was no use the two young ladies had collapsed in an unseemly heap onto the sofa, in helpless gales of laughter.

Later that evening, Clarissa sat in bed hugging her knees. A life with her brother and his wife was a bad enough thought, but she was determined that no such fate must touch her friends. She had seen too well the life of the despised poor relations, women who drudge for their families for a little more status than a maid and less money - for rare indeed was the family who took on the responsibility of a portionless female with any acceptance of equality. They must be grateful for the benefits of their position, the benefits which might include insult, humiliation and exhaustion from the performance of a hundred thankless tasks each day: the complete inability to order a second of one’s own life. Even if she could bear it, her dear, dear, friends must not.

If they were to quit the Academy before the arrival of Mr Thorne, the ladies had a great deal to do. Miss Micklethwaite did venture the opinion that it would be better to await his arrival and inform him of her decision, but when Clarissa declared that it would be better if he were faced with a
fait accompli
she could not but see the force of it. A young man of overbearing manner who was ten years her senior, Mr Thorne would not take kindly to his wishes being overset. No doubt, thought Augusta, he also had some plans as to how to
manage
Clarissa’s money for her: plans that might be to his advantage. Of this, she said nothing, merely marshalling the ladies in the packing.

They could now take all the books that they had been so unwilling to leave behind (even though
Basic Arithmetic for young Scholars
was unlikely to be of use in a country house), for Sullivan had declared his intention of travelling ahead with the trunks, whilst Mary could accompany the ladies on the hired postchaise. This was a relief, for who knows what state the house would be in and Sullivan could be depended upon to provide the basic comforts for their arrival.

He had something to say to Clarissa before he left. ‘You have not been wont to worry much about your mode of dress here miss, quite understandable, I’m sure. But it will not do to arrive in Hertfordshire looking, well…’ Sullivan paused, embarrassed.

‘Shabby genteel. I know.’ said Clarissa. ‘But there is hardly time…I’ll discuss it with the ladies. Thank you Sullivan’

‘Very good, ma’am.’

Oriana had already done some thinking about this she confided when Clarissa brought up the subject. ‘And I believe I have the very solution, if you will not take it amiss. Your mama’s wardrobe and some chests of fabric that I found have given us some unexpected treasures. If you would not object to having her black silk evening gown altered for you, I should think that would be the very thing. Plus the two black muslin gowns that Mrs Trimble in town is making for you will be sufficient for daywear until we find someone in Hertfordshire.’

‘Yes,’ said Clarissa, blushing, ‘But will they be grand enough for the lady of the manor? I wish to be taken seriously when I deal with the locals. I do not want feminine folderols, but only to at least look like a lady of quality rather than the silly schoolgirl that I fear I am.’

Oriana suppressed a sigh and grabbed at her hand. ‘Only come with me and see what your mamma has been hiding.’

Upstairs, in her mother’s room were closets and chests that she had not explored since she was a child. Oriana had thrown them opens and had heaped the gorgeous contents onto the bed. Clarissa gave a little sigh at entering her mamma’s sanctum, but soon became embroiled in the quite luminous hoard before her. Laid away carefully in mothballs and lavender, was all the finery of a Viscount’s daughter that was useless for a provincial schoolteacher. To be sure, fashions of whale-boned bodices and crinoline skirts looked strange to the young ladies who wore the simpler styles, but the sheer luxury and colour of the silks, satins, brocades and gold net could not but delight them.

‘Look. Some Brussels lace that we can use to trim your mourning gowns,’ said Oriana, ‘and a lace shawl from Spain to wear with your mamma’s black silk in the evening. And when we get to Hertfordshire you will likely find a dressmaker to make the velvet of this cloak into riding habit.  And if you were to buy some lengths of fine wool we can fashion a very respectable carriage dress and trim the bonnet and muff with this ermine.’

Clarissa fingered the strange clothes with confusion and delight. ‘Trimmed with
ermine
…oh no, Oriana. I just wished to look more respectable.’

‘Stuff and nonsense.’ cried Oriana stoutly; ‘You must look the thing. You cannot well go into Hertfordshire looking like you have spent last winter counting the coals on the fire individually, however true it maybe. You would not like your new neighbours to
pity
you would you?’

‘I should not.’ exclaimed Clarissa, revolted by the idea, ‘But what modes there were in Mamma’s time. Very grand, of course. But mother was such a bookish woman that it seems strange to think of her going to balls wearing such stiff as
this.
’ she held up a purple satin gown with gold brocade overdress.

‘Yes, very strange. One must suppose the colour was fashionable at the time. However, don’t you think that we could quite easily cut it up to make an underdress and perhaps an evening cape for Miss Appleby? If we made a simple over dress of this lavender crepe it would be quite in keeping with her semi-mourning for your mama. And it would add little to your consequence to have your companion dressed as she is now.’

Looking at Oriana’s delight, Clarissa believed that she must have missed the fashionable world more than she thought, and also that she had been itching to gown Clarissa for some time.

So the ladies devised their scheme to dress their elders in clothes more befitting their new station and it seemed that it could all be done at very little cost with the aid of the riches in the late Mrs Thorne’s chest. A fine dove coloured muslin from mamma’s cupboard could be taken in several inches for Miss Appleby, along with a pelisse to match, which could very well be given a ‘touch of
Paris
’ (as Miss Petersham called it) by trimming it with some dark grey velvet ruched ribbon from one of the assorted dresses.

Miss Micklethwaite was more of a problem. It was useless to suppose she would allow herself to be done up in purple satin. She was, indeed, the daughter of a respectable solicitor who had been forward thinking in the education of ladies, and as such was the social inferior of the rest of the ladies. Even Miss Appleby boasted an impoverished Baronet somewhere in her family tree, but Miss Micklethwaite had no such claims to gentility. She was far too proud ‘to ape her betters’ as she declared when referring to her brother’s wife whose father had made a fortune in trade. Therefore the ladies settled on some dark sturdy poplin (which had served as a voluminous coat to protect her mother’s extraordinary gowns) which could form a simple habit and some black figured muslin that could be fashioned into a simple evening gown. They had such an abundance of beautiful furs in ermine and sable that they almost decided to trim a hat and muff for her, but it would not do - she would not have worn it. It was only when Clarissa found a fox stole at the very bottom of the trunk, which could very well do the same purpose that she was satisfied.

‘For she cannot object to that.’ declared Clarissa stoutly, ‘since it is such as anyone with a respectable allowance might possess.’

The ladies took such of their spoils as they wished to their sitting room there to beginning cutting and pinning to their hearts’ delight. They were found there by Misses Micklethwaite and Appleby, returned from their constitutional. When they were informed what was toward, Miss Appleby began to cry, ‘Oh my dear girl, you cannot. I have never had such gowns in my life ... your dear mama…’

‘Would be happy to see you wear them and glad that you could add a little to my consequence with my new neighbours. It would not do, you know for them to think me a nip-cheese to my companion. And you need not think me generous, you know, for they will cost me nothing
and
you will be obliged to help make them.’

‘Oh, of course…’ said Miss Appleby, still sobbing with gratitude.

‘Stop snivelling and give the girls a hand, Louisa. It is quite right, you cannot show Clarissa up with her neighbours - even I can see that.  Give me the poplin, I’ll see to it. If you think that you two girls will measure me then you are much mistaken. A fox-trimmed bonnet. Whatever next. I’ll be as fine as my fool of a sister-in-law.’ She added with grim humour. It seemed to Clarissa that her sister-in-law had been spared much by their departure to Hertfordshire.

In the next few days the ladies trimmed bonnets, made a number of simple dresses (with the help of a girl from the village) all of which were given a little ‘town gloss’ by the eagle eye of Miss Petersham (so lately one of the town’s leading beauties) and packed the more colourful treasures for use at a later date. They also had to hire a postchaise (and four, for Clarissa had decided to arrive in style) and had calculated that the journey could be done with only one night at an inn. The small sum that had been left her by her mother was dwindling fast (a fact she must keep from her companions) and she knew that it might last her some six months only in the country. Oriana thought that they should strive to give a respectable front: any show of poverty might lead unscrupulous persons to believe them open to swindle. They wrote letters to their various relatives telling them of their plans in the vaguest terms possible. Clarissa knew that hers would cross her brother on the road but she wished to be able to say that she had sent it. Really, she was becoming quite duplicitous.

Miss Petersham possessed some fine simple gowns which she had brought from her home, but she directed a missive to her brother’s butler direct to send on her trunks to Hertfordshire.  It would be seen as a pretty poor show if he forbade this --which Oriana knew he would wish to do. He could have ignored such a request if it was directed at
him
but she hardly thought he would care to display his ill-temper to Settings, the butler without whom life at home would cease to run smoothly. Oriana felt herself to be duplicitous too, but she was far less repentant than Clarissa.

All of them were imbued with new energy and vigour, for they saw that they had a close escape from becoming the despised poor relations, and could look forward to an adventure that might be fraught with challenge, but in which they might really be
useful.

When Miss Appleby had shared her misgivings to Miss Micklethwaite about the wisdom of their enterprise and her hope that she would not be a burden to her dear Clarissa, her friend was as forthright as always.

‘I understand your feelings, Louisa, but think a little. If this all comes to naught then we will all just go back to our original plan. You and I to drudge for our family,’ Here Miss Appleby gave an obligatory sound of protest, ignored by her friend,  ‘Oriana to be under the will of her brute of a brother and Clarissa to sell the estate and return home to that prosy bore she’s related to. However, if it does take off, we should have been real use to her. She could not well manage so ambitious a plan without us. I can knock the house into shape if it’s not too far-gone. You can keep up with the genteel side of things, that ladylike way of behaving in company that I was not brought up to nor, since she has been brought up here, has Clarissa. Oriana can help with the estate but Clarissa and she are far too pretty to be able to keep the pack of hounds that will be paying them calls if I’m not mistaken. They shall need us to give them countenance.’

‘Indeed, my dear Augusta, we
must
go.’ said Miss Appleby

Though it seemed impossible to believe, they found themselves tucked up in a neat postchaise, resplendent in their newly trimmed pelisses and bonnets, setting off to Hertfordshire fully three days before Mr Thorne was due to arrive. Since it clearly would not do to travel on Sunday, they sat off in fine fettle early on Friday morning, with the early spring frosts nipping at the air, full of hope for the new life ahead of them and some sad thoughts for the life they had left behind. Clarissa looked at the sparkle in her friends’ eyes, and was satisfied.