An Unmarried Lady

by Willman, Anna

  “Indeed, Aunt Katherine, I will not be needed, for Anne has the most excellent taste, and I am confident in your ability to guide her selections so that they will meet all of the ton’s latest notions as to what is appropriate for a girl just coming out. As for myself, I have no need of fabric at present, for I’ve no intention of attending the Drawing Room, and I have enough gowns of my own for the short time I will be in society this Season.”

  It was a rather long speech and one much practiced in her mind, but somehow in the telling, it sounded to her own ears almost churlish, and Elaine felt her face flush as she spoke it.

  Lady Benton must have had the same impression, for her voice was decidedly frosty. “And when the day comes and you decide after all that you must attend the Drawing Room?”

  “That will not happen,” Elaine assured her, “but if it did, well then I should rather wear my old court gown than go into debt to purchase a new one.”

  “You cannot believe that you could disguise the gown. Someone is sure to recognize it.”

  “Then I’ll make no such effort. And I shall be sure to mention to someone in passing, but quite deliberately, you know, that it is the very same gown I wore before, having decided no other would do for me. For you know, quite truthfully, for all its hoops and skirts, I think it was most becoming.”

  Lady Katherine stared at her for a moment, struggling with some deep thought. “You know, I believe it would do! Everyone knows that you are an original. That is just the sort of thing you might do. Only, you must not be the one to reveal that it is the same gown. Leave that to me. I will just whisper a word into Sally Jersey’s ear and it will be all over town in no time at all.”

  Elaine breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh yes, you may do so, if circumstances should require it, but indeed my dear Aunt, I cannot be away from my father for the whole Season, and I am sure it would be quite unexceptional for me to miss the Drawing Room if it is known that I am attending to him. I promise that I will come into Town later if Papa is well enough for me to leave him, though it may be only for a week, for I will certainly wish to see how Anne is going on.”

  “You must stay longer than that if you hope to attach a husband, my dear.”

  “But you see I don’t, most truthfully. That is, I am not precisely opposed to it, but I don’t particularly wish for it either. What I wish for, above all else, is to be at Lynnfield Manor with dear Papa.”

  Lady Benton shook her head in irritation and said somewhat pettishly, “Well, your Papa wishes for you to be married.”

  “I know he does, and perhaps I will be some day. But this is to be Anne’s Season. Just think how awful it would be for her if we were to leave Papa alone at Lynnfield and he succumbed to this illness before she could find her place in Society. Why we should all be in our blacks again, and all of our planning would be for naught.”

  As Lady Benton could not but agree that such a circumstance would be most unfortunate, she assented at last, saying to Lord Benton as they retired that night, that in this at least Elaine showed a very proper concern and was quite a good natured girl to make such a sacrifice for her little sister.

  CHAPTER SEVEN: In which they meet Friends, New and Old.

  The Benton children were not, after all monsters, but quite normally active children with very nice manners and moderately good behavior. The elder daughter, Maura, was not so many years short of her own debut and was quite awestruck by her beautiful cousins. She quite hung upon Anne, who was only three years her senior, and once past an initial shyness, the two girls made fast friends. At Anne’s pleadings, Maura was permitted to accompany her cousin and her mother in the barouche as they ventured out the next afternoon to the drapers and the dressmakers. Elaine, accompanied by a liveried footman, hired a hack and went to call on Mr. Thompson. She returned to the house two hours later greatly satisfied with the results of her expedition. With little to occupy her until the shoppers returned, she made her way up to the schoolroom to better her acquaintance with her aunt’s progeny.

  Little Julian was engaged in arranging small lead soldiers about the room in a pattern that he assured her was an exact replica of the previous spring’s battle at Vitoria.

  “See, Cousin Elaine, here are the four columns led by Wellington, (he’s the one with the saber held high) and the blue ribbon lying here is the river Douro and that one is the Tagus. And over here are the French troops and this is the third division which is about to break their center. Sophie, you fiend, look what you’ve done. You stepped right into the middle of the battle and knocked the third division all about. You’ve spoiled the whole thing. Now the French will be able to retreat and avoid a defeat and England is lost.”

  Sophie was about to issue a blistering retort, but Elaine forestalled her by pointing out that the soldiers she had overset could stand for the wounded, the numbers of which she believed to be significant. All that was required to maintain the equilibrium was to designate a like number of the French troops as wounded, and the war could proceed. Much taken with this idea, Julian invited Sophie to step into the midst of the French troops, and when she declined the offer, he swept them away himself, and the battle most happily continued.

  Sophie meanwhile had fetched a book that she was reading and asked her cousin Elaine if she had ever read it. As the book was one that Anne had enjoyed when she was the same age as Sophie, Elaine was able to admit that she was familiar with it and to engage in a sensible conversation as to the motives of the protagonist, the iniquities of the villain, and the possible fates awaiting the book’s virtuous and (Elaine thought) somewhat simpering heroine. She found both children bright and full of ideas and delightful to be with and was pleased to be able to praise them quite sincerely to her Aunt when at last the shoppers returned, laden with packages.

  “Yes, yes, they are dear children. Just let me unburden myself of these packages, my dear. Anne and I have much to show you.”

  They appeared to Elaine to have made an alarming number of purchases, but as each item was taken out and displayed, her aunt was able to explain why each item was essential to Anne’s success, and indeed on several occasions, they seemed to have bought items at quite bargain prices. Looking at Anne’s glowing face as Lady Benton extolled each purchase, Elaine felt she had no grounds for complaint, but contented herself by doing sums in her head as she smiled and admired each article purchased – a pair of pink satin slippers that would perfectly match the sprig muslin, a sturdy pair of half boots for visiting and taking walks in the park, two pairs of white gloves bought for a trice (“And you know that one can never have too many pairs of white gloves, so I bought some for myself and for Maura as well!”), a great quantity of laces and ribbons and gauzes, each carefully selected with a specific gown in mind (“And your sister would not at all countenance the purchase of a length of the most ravishing green gauze, for she said she had no dress that it would suit and therefore no need for it, though I assure you the color became her most charmingly, and it made me quite cross for I did think we might as well buy it on the chance that she could find a use for it later.”), and two extremely charming hats that had been purchased for practically nothing (“For once Madame Clarisse saw how beautifully the one framed her face – it is quite a perfect oval you know – why she dropped her price by half and threw in the other one as well, knowing that once her confections were seen on the head of our charming Anne, she would receive dozens of new customers clamoring for a hat just like it to make them appear just as beautiful as she!”)

  “I think you have done very well,” Elaine remarked at last, to Anne’s great relief. “Now do tell me your main news. What of the Court dress?”

  “It was a pity, for Anne would insist upon looking only at the least expensive of fabrics, but for all your tedious thrift, I think we have done quite well. She will be presented to the Queen in a gown of cream satin with an overdress and train with just a hint of the palest peach woven into the fabric. Here is the pattern we’ve chosen. And we will ad
d just a touch of lace right here, and then again here. Do you see? I’m convinced that she will look very fine. I would never have thought one could do so well with so little money. Now not a word to Lord Benton, or he will expect me to make a habit of such economies, and indeed, I do not think myself capable of it. Why do you know your Anne inquired the price of every single item we considered purchasing. I never before experienced anything so tedious in my life. It was quite enough to sink my spirits.”

  But since she spoke in a decidedly cheerful manner, Elaine could not take this last complaint too seriously, but asked instead for the final cost of the gown. What she heard greatly relieved her mind and she smiled her approval at Anne. “Well done. Well done indeed!”

  “Well I should think so!” replied Lady Benton. “For I have never worked harder in all of my life!”

  Elaine and Anne both had to laugh at that, but then instantly redeemed themselves for this piece of foolery by thanking their aunt so very prettily for her goodness to them that she at once began to consider how else she might help them spend their money. However on this point, Elaine would not be moved, saying there would be time enough for that in the Spring when they would be done with all their sewing and have a clearer idea of what was still needed and how much they could afford to expend.

  As Anne was eager to see whatever she could in the short time they would be in town, the next day was set aside for sightseeing. Lord Benton’s personal secretary thoughtfully provided them with a small red guidebook, promisingly named A Picture of London, which kept the two sisters quite preoccupied for the rest of the afternoon, planning how best to make use of their limited time. Lady Benton assured them that to join them could only bring on one of her dreadful headaches, so they were quite free to go wherever they wished.

  As it immediately became clear that it would be impossible to see everything in one day, the two sisters found it necessary to read about all of the wonders of London before making their selection – the British Museum, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, London Bridge, the Guildhall, the Tower, Shakespeare’s grave, the famous marbles brought to England by Lord Elgin, which according to the guidebook could be viewed at Burlington House, and of course the waxworks at Madame Tussaud’s.

  The three hours that A Picture of London informed them was required to view the contents of the British Museum ruled that out as a destination, for it would take up all of their morning, but all of the other sights that they longed to see were still more than they could possibly fit into a single day. The matter soon became much simpler, however, for once word of the planned expedition reached the nursery, the children quite naturally begged to be taken along. This quickly led to the selection of the waxworks and a trip to the Tower, where there was to be seen, in addition to the terrifying dungeons and the mournfully romantic final residences of various queens and famous personages, also a fine collection of wild beasts.

  Early the next morning the two sisters climbed, not into their Aunt’s fashionable barouche, but into the traveling coach which had been cleaned and polished since their recent trip into town so that Lord Benton’s handsome insignia fairly sparkled on the doors. This vehicle was the only one large enough to accommodate not only the two sisters, but also the three Benton children and their governess, Miss Fielding. Maura and Anne sat facing forward with Elaine and the two smaller children and Miss Fielding sat across from them.

  The expedition was everything they could wish for. The effigies at the waxworks were so lifelike that Sophie had to hold tight to Miss Fielding’s hand, while Julian similarly clung to Maura, though he declared it was to keep her from being frightened. The Tower held a particular fascination for Elaine and Anne, for they were distant relatives of several of its former occupants – the Howards and the Bolyns, while all three of the Benton children were enchanted by the inhabitants of the zoological garden.

  They had originally thought they might conclude their tour with a visit to one of the cathedrals, but it was clear that the two youngest members of the expedition were in need of some physical outlet for their excited state of mind, so it was determined that they would instead disembark from the coach and take a brisk stroll through Hyde Park.

  It was a crisp fall day, but their coats were warm and the exercise invigorating, so they had no fear of taking a chill. Miss Fielding kept the two children occupied with collecting fallen leaves and identifying which trees they came from, while Elaine, Anne, and Maura discussed the marvels they had seen.

  Anne had been much touched by seeing where Kathryn Howard had spent her last days, particularly so immediately after viewing the young Queen’s effigy at Madam Tussaud’s. Maura, who was inclined to be in complete accord with her beautiful cousin, no matter the topic, thought it most romantic to have such a tragic relative, no matter how distantly removed. Elaine fell a few steps behind them, taking great pleasure in her sister’s enjoyment and very glad to see the two young cousins’ friendship blooming.

  “Oh, but do look, Elaine!” Anne cried suddenly. “It is Sir Edmund Pace.”

  It was, indeed. Sir Edmund came smiling towards them, leading a fine bay mare from which he had just dismounted. “Well met, indeed, my friends,” he said. “I had no notion you were in town.”

  “It is for a few days only,” Anne replied, blushing with pleasure at actually having an acquaintance in town, and perhaps showing off just a little for Maura, “so that I could be measured for my Court dress. We are visiting my Aunt Katherine and will be returning to Lynnfield after tomorrow.”

  “Then I am fortunate indeed to have met you today,” he said, smiling at her obvious delight. She introduced him to Maura and then to Miss Fielding and the two youngsters who came crowding around to look at the beautiful horse. At their urging, he lifted both children onto the mare’s back.

  “She is a gentle thing,” he commented, patting her shoulder. “She is Alicia’s mount, which I am exercising for her while she is unable to ride. Do you ride Miss Anne? I would be most pleased to relinquish this responsibility to you when you come to town in the spring.”

  “Oh, do you think your sister would mind?” Anne exclaimed, most excited. “I do so love an early morning gallop.”

  He assured her that Alicia would be happy to see her little horse ridden by someone who presented a less clunky figure than himself, and promised to show her the best paths, though he warned her that London bridle paths were not best suited to headlong gallops.

  “Indeed not,” Elaine said, smiling at her sister. “It would be most improper. A modest canter is what is expected of females when riding in town.”

  Anne blushed and thanked them for their advice, promising not to gallop or indeed to do anything that might spoil her Season. Edward laughed and confided that he knew of more than one young lady who flouted convention and promised to show her a straightway or two where she might gallop to her heart’s content so long as she did it with a proper escort and only very early in the morning before the ton had risen from their beds.

  He turned then and led the mare close behind him as they continued their walk along the pathway. Miss Fielding followed a short distance behind where she could keep an eye on the children.

  He smiled at Elaine. “It is always good to see you, my friend. How is your father faring? I hope he is well.”

  “He is doing as well as can be hoped for. Indeed, I am most anxious to return to him, for he is scarcely to be trusted without either Anne or myself there to keep a watch on him and keep him eating only what is good for him.”

  “Poor fellow! I can see he is quite helplessly under your thumbs.”

  Elaine laughed. “Oh, to hear him tell it, he is very much abused. But though he claims to be put out by our careful attentions, the fact is that he feels much more the thing when we are there to cosset and bully him into good behavior.”

  “Surely you exaggerate, my friend. I doubt even you are capable of inducing good behavior from that charming old rogue.”

  “No, you are
right. He is always brewing some new trouble. I shudder to think what he may be up to this very moment. And when he is found out, he will simply smile and all will be forgiven.”

  “Will you have time to see Alicia while you are in town?”

  “How could I not? We plan to call on her tomorrow. I sent her a note yesterday, for there was no time to warn her of our coming, this visit to my aunt being sudden and unexpected.”

  At this point the restless children were clamoring to be let down from the mare’s back, and Sir Edmund accommodated them. They lingered a few more minutes to pet the mare’s soft black nose and thank her for the ride and then ran off to gather more leaves with Miss Fielding, Julien pausing once to turn two bold, if slightly crooked, summersaults on the cool grass and sneak a look backwards to see if this amazing feat had been duly noticed and admired.

  Maura pretended not to notice, but Anne clapped her hands admiringly and Sir Edmund swept him a deep bow of appreciation. Elaine laughed and waved too, so the youngster ran off feeling quite pleased with himself.

  They continued to walk and talk for another fifteen minutes, during which time Sir Edmund asked a great many questions about Anne’s upcoming Season, commented suitably on the white satin fabric she had chosen for her Court dress, which he was certain would suit her most delightfully, and kindly offered to escort her to see the Elgin marbles, the British Museum, the Guildhall, and any cathedral or other sight that she wished to visit when she should come next to London, so that she should not be disappointed by their inability to see more of London on this visit.

  After a few more moments of conversation in this vein, he bowed and took his leave, shaking hands with both sisters, Miss Fielding and then all three of the young Bentons before mounting the mare and riding off.

  “Even others’ generosity is costly,” Elaine sighed when he had gone. “I had thought we might avoid it, but it seems we will have to make you a new riding habit, for the one that you have at Lynnfield is sadly worn and not at all fit for London.”