A Farm Girl's Despair (#5, the Winds of Misery Victorian Romance) (A Family Saga Novel)

by Dorothy Green

  “Why have you stopped, dear? That is such a lovely tune. And on such a day as today, there is not much else that we can do since we cannot go into the gardens,” Hilda's adopted mother Mrs Layles said. For they had now officially adopted Hilda and thought of her as one of their own.

  “Sorry, Mama, my thoughts had escaped me.” Hilda said as she began to play again.

  Her sister Gemma let out a soft laugh. “No doubt your thoughts are agreeably on the ball at Lord and Lady Winton’s, or so I know that's where my thoughts lay.”

  “Oh yes dear, as both of you should be thinking of such an event. With Gemma being almost one and twenty, and you my dear Hilda nineteen years of age, it is high time that both of you find a suitable husband of my liking. Neither of you are getting any younger and you are losing the most valuable tool a young woman has in order to capture such a husband; youth.” Mrs Layles said.

  Hilda looked at Gemma, with her back to her mother of course, and rolled her eyes at her sister, for they had been hearing such words since they were very young indeed, before they had their own coming out season.

  “That may be true Mama, but you know my standing on finding a match that I also find agreeable. I will not be roped into marrying someone simply for comfort of home,” Gemma said. “But I have every notion that I will find such a man at the ball. I will find the one.”

  Hilda smiled at Gemma, for she found her adopted sister to be very confident, and she respected her very much indeed for it. She often wished that she herself had the confidence that her sister displayed. For Gemma was not worried at all that she was becoming older, and had yet to find a suitable match, for she had all the confidence in the world that she would eventually meet the man that captured her heart, mind, as well as was able to provide a comfortable means of living. Hilda however did not have this confidence, and she thought that she would have to marry whoever her parents chose for her in the coming year.

  Gemma, however, was widely reputed as a person of beauty with her blond locks and large blue eyes, she took after her mother. While Hilda considered herself quite plain in comparison to her sister. When they walked into a room together, all eyes were on Gemma, further validating this notion that Gemma was far more beautiful.

  Hilda looked down at her plain white empire waist gown, with a pattern of green leaves. She fixed the skirt and then placed her fingers back on the ivory keys.

  “I should hope so. For the amount of money your father has spent on your ball gowns, I should hope to see a return in investment,” Her mother said, lifting a cup of tea to her mouth.

  Gemma laughed. “And so you shall, mother.”

  “Yes Mama, I have no doubt that Gemma will find a perfect match, and any man would be lucky to call her his wife,” Hilda had a big smile on her face for her sister.

  Gemma walked over to her and hugged her from behind, placing a sisterly kiss on top of Hilda's head.

  “And so shall you, dear sister. Now if you will excuse me I'm finding this book rather droll, I am to my room to fetch another,” Gemma headed toward the door. Hilda started to play her tune again, though quietly.

  “I have been hearing those words for quite some time now, promises of finding a match. Your father and I shall soon be finding one for the both of you if you do not show any promise of an engagement this year,” their mother fussed.

  “Oh, that reminds me. Speaking of engagement, my dear friend Katrina James told me just yesterday, that she heard the news that the MP of Cornwall, Ross Brookend is engaged. Can you believe that? I shall return,” Gemma said in a whirlwind statement as she headed out the door.

  Hilda's fingers slipped on the keys making a very loud piano sound that startled her mother

  “My Lord, Hilda have some compassion for my nerves, you shall see me spill this hot tea all over my beautiful day gown,” Her mother said.

  “Sorry mother, perhaps I have played too much today,” Hilda said quickly, standing up and moving to the window so that she could have her back to the room completely. Her breath had quickened, her heart pounded. She gave the rain on the window her full attention; she needed to concentrate on something in order to stop herself from fainting.

  Ross Brookend, engaged? Oh how could it be so? Of course it is so, you imbecile, he is a gorgeous and eligible MP of Cornwall, the son of the Lord of Cornwall. It is a miracle that he has not been married already. The time has come. If you had more confidence perhaps you would have found a way to make known your feelings for him. But you missed your chance, and now it has been taken. Oh, how I wish I had the confidence of my sister Gemma.

  “How is it your sister finds it fit to give us such news and walk out? Does she not think that we wish to know more? And you are his charge and he has all but forgotten to tell you in a letter, for he never writes to this household except to your father on the matter of coin for you. Well, I daresay that we shall find out more at the ball, if the Lord of Cornwall and Lady are in attendance, which I believe they will be. Perhaps we will garner an invitation to the wedding, if I could put your father to good use and force him to mingle at the ball with the Lord of Cornwall. Such work, if I were a man, we would be very well-connected indeed. But that I must leave such things up to your father who prefers to be at home at all times. We have missed out on many opportunities of society, and for you dear Hilda. Now I must go to your father with this news, and force him to speak with the Lord of Cornwall and the MP of Cornwall at the ball, so that we may be on their minds when time for the wedding invitations to be sent comes around. For I will be in attendance at the MP of Cornwall’s wedding.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Hilda said without turning from the window. For she did not want her mother to see the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She was glad for the solitude when her mother walked out the door; at least now she could mourn the loss of her feelings for the MP of Cornwall in private.

  Later that night however, she had a better idea, to write down her feelings in order to release them from her heart and mind. She opened the bottom drawer of a dresser and pulled out her diary. It was a small leather-bound book, with gilded edges on each page. It was her most prized possession and a book that held all her wishes and secrets.

  She sat down at her desk, and began to write.

  It is done. Today my sister graced me with the news that Ross Brookend, the MP of Cornwall and my saviour, is engaged. To who I do not know. But what can be said of this news, is that I will never have the opportunity to be considered a prospect as his future wife. Though I know that I am not of nobility, and the woman he is engaged to very well must be, I still engaged in flights of fancy that it would be possible. Ever since he rescued me, he has held my heart. Now that possibility is gone. I shall not sleep well this night knowing this. I shall be in a state of mourning for some time and do not know what I shall do with all of these feelings except write them down here and hope that it will grant me some relief.

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  “Oh sister, you look absolutely beautiful, come sit so that I can do your hair,” Gemma said to Hilda.

  Hilda walked into Gemma's room in a soft cream coloured silk gown, that was adorned with strips of lace on the bodice, right along the plunging neckline. The lace then fell from the empire waist bodice, all the way down the front of the dress to the bottom hem. Hilda indeed loved this dress, for it made her feel very delicate, and refined. While Gemma, on the other hand, had an extravagant blue dress that matched her eyes. Along the low plunging neckline was beautiful and decorative beadwork, that moved down to the hem of the bodice, and then down the front in long strands that moved slightly when she walked. This was a dress begging for attention; while Hilda preferred to be lost in the crowd, she did not like the stares of strangers on her.

  “I think these strips of lace will do nicely in your hair, do you think not?” Gemma held up the lace.

  “Yes, indeed I do. But you don't have to do it, allow Sarah to,” Hil
da said looking at their house maid Sarah, who helped them lace up their corsets, and put their dresses over their heads. She was the one to often do their hair.

  “Oh all right, don't make such a fuss. I enjoy doing your hair, I will help Sarah,” Gemma winked at her servant. Sarah smiled and started to put the ringlets of Hilda's dark hair up against her head, weaving in strips of lace as they went.

  “Do you think I should do the same with the beads of ribbon for my own hair? I think a few dangling at the edge would be quite fine ,” Gemma said.

  “Oh yes, so much so that they move when you dance, for you will have many enquiries for your hand to dance,” Hilda said.

  “As so shall you sister. Yes, we shall both have such a pleasant time. Indeed I am very excited, for Katrina has told me that there are new men entering society, for the mild weather has brought in many from country estates that would normally not come to London at such a time. Therefore maybe we shall meet some new ineligible acquaintances.”

  “As well as avoid those that we do not wish to converse with.” Hilda said, looking at her sister.

  They both laughed and said entirely in synchronicity, “The Earl of Holbrook, Mr George Mason!”

  Then they erupted into laughter.

  “What a vile man. You know at the last assembly he put his hand on my lower back in the most familiar manner, it was quite shocking. I am only fortunate that no one saw.” Gemma said.

  “And do not let mother and father hear you say that, for he is an aristocrat, and they would have the Earl proposing to you by the end of the night.” Hilda said.

  “True, sister. That is a dire warning indeed. Let us not speak of the Earl again, so as not to give our dear Mother and Father the notion at all. The man is invisible as far as I'm concerned.” Gemma said.

  “What in heavens is taking such an amount of time? For we should be in the carriage already,” Mrs Layles stormed into the room.

  “Oh Mama, you look very fine indeed,” Gemma smiled looking at their mother, in a dark wine-coloured gown adorned with black lace. A fine compilation of black feathers and beads adorned her hairdo.

  “Yes mother, you look very well indeed. I believe you put your daughters to shame,” Hilda said.

  “Yes, yes, keep your flattery for the men that you will ensnare to marriage. Your father is quite beside himself waiting in the foyer, with I daresay a second glass of brandy. If you do not hurry he will have a third and embarrass us all when we arrive. It is quite the journey from Hampstead to St James's Court, therefore we must be on our way.”

  “Yes Mama, we are almost finished here. We only need to apply our gloves and cloaks, and we are joining you downstairs straight away.” Hilda said.

  “Make haste girls, make haste,” Mrs Layles said, moving out the door.

  Hilda looked at Gemma, and they both giggled again. For both of them were in very high spirits, and it was only the beginning of the evening.

  In the carriage, the party was very excitable indeed for the thirty-minute journey from Hampstead South to the borough of St James Court. Indeed, St James's Court was a very distinguished borough because of its proximity to Kensington Palace and the royal residences of St James Palace, but a stone's throw away. It was the residence of many families of aristocracy, those directly related to the royal family of London; King George and his son the Prince Regent.

  Because of this ,Hilda was more nervous than her usual demeanour when arriving at a ball, for this was a ball of nobility, which meant it was very well possible that the MP of Cornwall would be in attendance not to mention the judgments of high society which could be very cruel to someone as plain as she from a family without a title.

  As if sensing her nervousness, Gemma reached out and squeezed Hilda's hand, and Hilda was very glad for the knowing look that she gave her.

  “Do not leave my side, Gemma That is, when you are not dancing, for I am very nervous indeed.”

  “Well child, she cannot attend you all night, she is not your governess. I expect both of you to mingle and talk to as many gentlemen as possible. Your father has agreed to help make introductions as necessary, have you not sir?” Mrs Layles said.

  All turned and looked to Mr Layles sitting beside his wife. He was a genteel gentleman, fairly quiet and enjoyed his solitude, even though that sort of demeanour did not lend itself to being well-known in society. His grey hair moved down his sideburns, and up under his felt hat in the beaver hat style. He was dressed in a black tailcoat, and a white waistcoat and cravat to match.

  “Yes, yes ,whatever you say, dear,” he said, not wishing to argue with such responsibilities.

  Hilda and Gemma smiled to each other, knowing it was quite a thing of annoyance for their father to have to attend such things, but they also knew that he wished that his daughters found good matches considering that they had not had the good fortune of having a son. Indeed after Gemma was born, the doctor had warned Mrs Layles that she had a very difficult birth with Gemma and that she should not risk having another child, for it could be a deadly decision. Therefore they did not try for a son, something that always had Gemma feeling quite guilty.

  “Oh, look we have arrived,” Mrs Layles said excitedly looking toward the window. They were approaching a very long line of carriages, on the cobblestone streets of the London borough of St James’ Court. They would have to wait their turn until their carriage arrived in front of the stately home. It did not take long at all, and in no time there was a footman opening the door to their carriage and unlocking the steps.

  Mr Layles exited the carriage first, and extended his hand to help his wife and his daughters descend onto the pavement.

  “Is it not a grand prospect,” Hilda whispered to Gemma, feeling very inadequate with the fine building in front of them. It was a great stone building done in the Georgian style, that seemed to sprawl the entire block in both directions. There were many ladies and gentlemen on the broad steps leading up to the doorway, mingling as they made their way to enter the grand home.

  “Yes, very fine indeed. I am very excited. I can hear the music, can you not?” Gemma commented on the string music coming from inside.

  Stepping into the grand foyer of the home, it very well resembled homes decorated for the height of the London season, with early spring bloom garlands abound hung from the staircase, and from the walls, careful not to intrude on the grandeur of the rich tapestries.

  Hilda smiled at Gemma, as she inhaled the wonderful scent of flowers and followed their parents as they lined up to greet the hosting family, the Wintons.

  “Lord and Lady Winton, it is a pleasure to be invited to such an event, we thank you kindly,” Mr Layles said. Mrs Layles, Hilda and Gemma, gave a curtsy, to the Lord and Lady, as well as to their children lined up beside them, the eldest which was barely fourteen years of age.

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  When all introductions were made, the Layles family moved from the foyer toward the reception rooms, and the grand ballroom. The finest of the ton were in attendance, and Hilda had never seen such extravagance at a ball. Indeed there were the finest fabrics adorning the ladies and gentlemen, and she felt overwhelmed by just how many people were milling about, and the evening had yet to officially start. Many people had yet to arrive and others were in line outside in carriages waiting their turn to get in.

  “Mr Layles,” Mr James said walking over with his family, his wife Mrs James, his daughter Katrina James who was a dear close friend to Gemma, and their sons Taylor and Peter, along with their wives. But alongside them was a gentleman that Hilda had never seen before, a very tall and handsome gentleman.

  “Mr James, a pleasure as always,” Mr Layles said shaking his hand.

  “Good evening to you all,” Mrs Layles said with a curtsy that Hilda and Gemma both also repeated. Katrina moved in front of Gemma, taking her hands with a nod at Hilda.

  “Mr Layles, may I introduce a gentleman that I have
currently had business dealings with, Mr Adam Crossbury,” Mr James said introducing the Layles family to the tall handsome gentleman. Hilda instantly noticed that this Mr Crossbury smiled with a bow at Mr and Mrs Layles, but then his gaze was quickly on Gemma.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you sir, and your lovely family.” Mr Crossbury said.

  “Mr Crossbury, I'm obliged to you I am sure. May I introduce my wife, and my two daughters Hilda and Gemma Layles.” Mr Layles said.

  “A great pleasure to meet all of you, and if Miss Layles isn't already engaged, I wondered if I might ask for your hand in the first dance?” Mr Crossbury said to Gemma.

  “I thank you sir, I am not engaged.” Gemma responded with a smile.

  “Excellent, excellent.” Mr Crossbury said.

  A pause took hold over the whole group as a moment of awkwardness abounded at how the two people exchanged such radiant smiles. Indeed everyone felt as though they were intruding on a private moment between Gemma and Mr Crossbury. Sensing such a thing Mr James cleared his throat.

  “Well, what say you of this ball, Layles?” he directed his question directly at Mr Layles.

  “Quite extravagant indeed, and very loud,” Mr Layles said.

  Mrs Layles took it upon herself to speak directly with Mrs James, allowing the other people of the party to engage in conversation.

  “Katrina, so lovely to see you,” Hilda said to Katrina James who stood beside Mr Crossbury.

  “And you, Hilda. It has been too long since I have come to your home to visit with you all. These rains have been merciless ,have they not?”

  “Yes, quite indeed,” Hilda said making small talk with Katrina but her eyes glanced over to her sister and Mr Crossbury standing beside them. They said nothing to each other, but their smiles were telling.

  “Mr Crossbury is here from Cornwall,” Katrina said to Gemma and Hilda.

  “Yes, I am indeed,” he said.

  “Come, let us to some refreshment before the dancing starts,” Mr James interrupted the conversation, taking Katrina and Mr Crossbury with him.