by Debra Brown
Helena’s maid, though she was normally eager to please her Mistress, muttered angrily under her breath throughout the morning routine, hardly hearing a word that the Duchess said about her painfully pulled hair.
***
Helena, Winnie and Emma met for breakfast. They were all quite dazed by the moods of their lady’s maids and were trying to make sense of it. Only Winnie had any idea of the recent events downstairs, and she kept that to herself for the moment, not wishing to disturb Helena’s household any further. However, at her request, Helena gave her permission for the Amberton girls to eat in the nursery if it would not interfere with Nanny’s efforts with Nicholas. Would that, perhaps, solve the problem? Winnie wondered, though feeling quite unsure of how to handle the situation with Anne. The poor girl did, after all, have feelings.
She informed the girls, adding that she hoped that they would be happier having their meals away from the less amicable persons downstairs. Lizzy stated that she could even more happily tear Grantham from limb to limb, but retracted it. Anne, of course, was devastated. Mealtime was the best time of the day, as long as it was held in the midst of the ferocious Montagues. She received counsel, though, from Winnie, that one cannot know a young man at one or two meetings, and that she should think carefully. Did she not care to stay in service and have some expectation of a comfortable life around a table full of good food? Few ate as well as the servants in a grand house, did they? But Anne knew what she wanted; she would happily starve for an opportunity to know the young man better.
***
Emma arrived in the Drawing Room, with her embroidery project for the afternoon, to find the smiling Adelina waiting to meet her alongside the ladies. “Miss Adelina Darivela,” Helena began, “meet Miss Emma Carrington.” Both curtsied politely, and Adelina began to step forward, radiating affection. She caught herself, hesitated, and curtsied again. She seemed unable to speak, and uncomfortable with the silence, Emma began.
“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Darivela. Are you a lady of London?”
“I do live here in London, yes, Miss Carrington. I am pleased to meet you. As for being a lady, well, I spent the afternoon with Nanny Bown, Miss Amberton and Miss Anne yesterday. They were charming company and made me quite eager to meet you.”
“Ah, then, I am happy to meet one of my peers.”
“I do believe that you are above me, Miss Carrington, dining at Handerton with lords and ladies,” she smiled. “Did you have a pleasant evening?”
Emma responded to Adelina’s warmth and relaxed. “I made the best of it, thank you. I am more comfortable here with dukes and duchesses, I fear, owing to the kindness shown me despite my humble beginnings.”
“I know them to be gracious and considerate persons, myself. I must take my leave, Miss Carrington; it was my pleasure.”
Again, both curtsied, and Adelina departed.
The post had been brought up and delivered to the ladies. Helena and Winnie were discussing their letters. Invitations had arrived, and they compared them to their diaries. How could Winnie finish her shopping for the year with so many parties to attend? This or that person had politely declined the request to include Emma at tea the next week, for the room was so small, or the list so long already. Perhaps the next opportunity, elsewhere, would allow.
Emma attempted to politely wait through their discussion. The butler had brought up a note from Mr. Gabriel Hughes, and she had to consider how she would approach his request. She was ultimately obliged to interrupt. “Please excuse me, I offer my sincere apologies. Mr. Hughes has arrived and has asked me to walk out with him. He should like me to present myself in the entry hall, if it would be acceptable.” Winnie and Helena cast anxious looks toward each other. “Please, Milady, I would like to go. He is a charming man, but do not worry, ma’am, I just wish to let him know, in a kindly way, that my future revolves around the life I am committed to with you. I do not intend to marry him, as I am sure you must realize, however likable he may be.”
Emma’s words relieved the ladies. Winnie replied, “Yes, Emma, you may go, but please ring for Anne, and take her along. It is best not to go alone; it may give the wrong impression.”
Grantham sent for Emma’s wrap, and for Anne, who arrived in a state very near tears. She came reluctantly and well supplied with handkerchiefs. Grantham showed obvious displeasure while escorting the women to the front door, it not being meant for servants. Indeed, there was some question amongst the scullery maids downstairs about Emma’s status, but there was Mr. Hughes, Royal Barrister, waiting at the front entry for her, and so it had to be.
Mr. Hughes offered Emma his arm. They stepped out the door followed by Anne, who immediately began whimpering at the sight of a couple, arm in arm. She knew for certain that she would never be allowed to touch her dear one’s arm, or even see his face again, what with meals having been moved to the nursery.
Her fussing was not heard at first; Mr. Hughes was thanking Miss Carrington for meeting him at such short notice. It had been so seemingly thoughtless of him, but the fact was that he had gotten free from work engagements unexpectedly and had been looking for another chance to talk with her after their first meeting a few evenings since. He would love to have heard her express great gladness that he had come, but before that opportunity arose, nothing could be heard above the lamentation behind them. Anne was so completely bent over her first handkerchief, crying as she trudged along, that she could not see where she was going and ran right into the back of Mr. Gabriel Hughes. She did not apologize, not having even noticed that she had plowed into him, knocking him into a pillar and nearly into the area below stairs, and she raised her voice to her mistress.
“Oh, ma’am, I am such a case of devastation!”
“So I see, Anne, dear girl, let’s find a bench and sit down. Come over here,” Emma wrapped her arm around the poor girl’s shoulder and led her to a seat. The astonished Gabriel had regained his balance and hastened to their sides to comfort little Anne as best he could, but he stopped short to contemplate how it might best be done. The ladies sat down; the gentleman was yet some feet away and got to be beside himself, as gentlemen often are when a woman is in tears. He hastened to pick her the beginnings of a lilac from a nearby bush, as nothing nearby was yet in full bloom, in hopes that what existed of it could dispel some of her grief. But for all her sobbing to Emma, it was never noticed.
“Please, tell me what to do!” she wailed. “I shall never see him again! The lovely footman, who helped me so downstairs! He…I…he may not ever appear near the nursery, you know, or in the hall near your room, and I may never know if he should care for me!”
“Anne, you have found someone you care for? I see; no wonder you were so delighted this morning!”
Poor Emma was lost for what to do. Her mind went back and forth, considering whether she should discourage this romance as propriety required, or whether she should help Anne in some way with it. Her puzzled look went from Anne to Gabe, and back again, several times. Could not Mr. Gabriel Hughes, this renowned orator, handle this case with some aplomb?
The gallant Gabriel took out his handkerchief and put it into Emma’s hands for her consideration. He then stood back, hoping he had pleased her, nervously waiting for the outcome and admiring Emma for her selfless efforts and the humble friendship she extended toward her maid. He was ever so grateful to have another woman there to handle this grievous feminine emergency.
Anne could no longer contain her thoughts within herself and blurted everything out at once, to the abandonment of reason and sense. “I was delighted, ma’am, yes, I am sorry, for I know I am in service, and I never intended to even consider deviating from it, being so privileged, but how was I to know? And now Her Ladyship has said that we are to eat upstairs!”
Gabriel was terribly confused by her comments, but she was a woman, after all, and how could she be understood? He looked to Emma for the gynecic wisdom that surely would, by now, have solved the puzzle, but to his d
ismay, Emma continued to appear most perplexed. Someone must have some understanding of the situation and how to repair it, for it must be repaired, that he not be required to endure more weeping while appearing to completely understand.
He, with chivalrous intent, suggested that Emma obtain more information from the girl, while he… stand guard, or assist with the belongings she had dropped, or best of all, locate a more private place for women to sob and confuse him. Off he went to search, but then felt most inconsiderate; he had abandoned them to passersby, and he returned promptly. Perhaps things would make more sense quite soon, he dearly hoped. Emma’s comforting touch and words had, indeed, calmed Anne. She was at least now able to hear the words Emma spoke, rather than her own wails.
“Anne, should you wish to leave service at any time, I will never stand in your way. But is there someone that has shown interest in you? What has he done? Or what is this about?”
“Oh ma’am, I just saw him. I was being teased and pushed on and treated badly, and he stood up for me!” Ah, thought Gabriel, no wonder, for he was Her Rescuer! “And he looked at me, too, ma’am; he looked at me!”
“He looked at you, Anne, and you are thinking of leaving service?”
“Well, what I mean is, well, you know, he was, oh I do not know, ma’am, we looked at each other!” Gabriel and Emma both understood perfectly the meaning of this sort of captivity, now that it had been so well explained, and the enormity of such an unusual occurrence in one’s life.
“I see, and you spoke to him, too?” she asked.
“No, no. I did not speak to him.”
“No?”
“No. I did not.”
“I see. Well, what can I do to help?”
“I do not know!”
Emma looked up to Gabriel for the answer, but he was dazed. However, he managed to pick the lilac up from the ground, where it had fallen, and he handed it cordially to Emma. “Does she know his name?” he asked, avoiding consultation directly with the woman, who might, once again, become the source of a waterfall.
She turned to Anne. “Do you know his name?”
“No.”
She looked up to Gabe. “She does not.” He nodded his head, displaying clear comprehension of the fact.
“I shall surely try to talk to Her Grace and Lady Holmeshire on your behalf,” Emma promised little Anne.
They spent the next half hour walking Anne, one on each side of her, as Gabriel’s confidence in the situation had improved. They comforted her, pointing out puppies, a historical plaque, a fountain. Gabe was so relieved to see the progress that he did not attempt to be walking with Emma and a chaperone, but instead was walking to compose and revitalize Anne. He was, however, even more than before, impressed by the kind, humble Emma.
The time came, too quickly to please him, for him to return whence he came, and he delivered the girls to the house and bade them farewell with promises to return.
***
Another day did arrive, despite the fact that some of our poor heroines thought that it could not possibly.
“Genevieve, darling, it is 9 a.m.! Are you intending to dress yourself and come down?” Silence. “Genny,” her anxious mother said gently, “I’m coming in.” She stepped into the bedroom and walked over to the plump, silk-canopied bed, where her distraught daughter was hiding from the world for the second day.
“Mama,” Genny said, without the energy for expression and without turning to face her. “How can you engage a small child to another small child without waiting to see what kind of people they come to be when they are grown up?”
Her mother was taken aback and had to consider her reply. “Genny, dear girl, Wills is a wonderful man. We knew the family, and we knew that he would turn out well. Your Papa said that it was important to settle matters early on. Wills was to be the only heir of the Holmeshires, and there would have been others wishing to marry him for the title of countess and for all that he stands to inherit. You must remember all that Lord Holmeshire will have from his Grandpapa and the rest of his family, besides Holmeshire Hall and the properties that he now has! Remember all the realm that you will be Mistress over! We will be so proud of you. This creates a close tie to the royal family, as King George the IV wished, and there are benefits to the lot of us that you, most of all, will enjoy. Lady Embry said that we were terribly fortunate to make the match when we did! It may even be that you would not have gotten another good marriage; some never do, you know.”
“I could not get another good marriage, Mama? Thank you! And you think I need a good marriage. For what? A word? Countess is just a word, a word that comes with a lot of expectations and rules. Many a woman has become a countess, or even a duchess or a princess, only to become terribly unhappy. So for what? Another house or two? I’ll have Chenbury should I never marry; Papa has given it over to me, and that is all I would ever need, is it not?! You do not even have a son to give Handerton to! It will go to whomever I marry, and so I will have two in London alone! Do I want to leave London and live in the moorlands in a mossy old stone fortress? No! For another house or two, of whatever description, I must live with a man who does not want to throw balls! I will not need houses if there are to be no balls. Enough about houses. Money? Do I need more money than I can ever spend? No. I do not.”
“You need a fortune to pass on to care for the houses, darling.”
“I could sell one house and live forever off it!”
“But there is much more to it. Many things were involved in the decision. You know that. Papa and I could see your distress last night, though, and we talked about it.”
“Yes?” She turned and looked at her Mama with a tinge of hope in her reddened eyes.
“There is so much good about Lord Holmeshire. Papa feels that you will be in excellent circumstances, should anything happen to us. You must be protected, you know, from those strange men that have begun to endlessly follow after you! Wills will protect you.”
Genevieve turned away again, face down, and pulled a thin red throw blanket over her head. “But I have servants to protect me! And Wills will be away often.”
Grace hesitated. “That is true; he will be. Wills is involved in government now. Papa says he will go far in the political world.”
Genny emerged again. “But... Lords in Parliament have a life in their homes, as well. And that is the life that their wives share.” Her hope for a reprieve gone, she began to become more distressed again. “This man… some ‘important man’s’ misbehavior landed him a child that he could not bring home, so Wills brought him home, and now I have to raise him? I cannot even know whose son he is! Should not a man who is going far in the political world have a happy wife, as well as a distinguished life?” She let out an angry wail. “And it seems that we will be devoting our lives to feeding the poor, does it not, Mama?”
Lady Breyton sat down on the bed. She played with some blankets and pushed up some pillows. Her daughter had been focused on this marriage for years; she had worked hard to learn what a woman was to learn and could skillfully manage the role of a countess and an aristocratic household by now. She had avoided involvement with other men, had waited longer in life than many other girls to marry…and now was turning against it all!
This would not work well for the Breytons. They had arranged all their matters neatly in a row, and their daughter was to do just so. She was to look impossibly lovely at her wedding at Westminster Abbey. Wills was to rise in Parliament, with her Papa’s help, and she would be on his arm at the most elite events. She was to be the perfect picture of a titled lady and never to dirty her hands with anything beneath her.
Grace tried to again warm her to her commitments. “There are worse things in life. He could be a selfish, ignoble man, but he is not. That will work to your benefit, as well as to that of the poor. Let him help the poor; just do not get much involved yourself. Papa never allows me to dirty my hands with such things. I’ve been happy doing as your father says. Give some money to your ste
ward and have him handle it. You can well afford to give some to the poor, and it will bring you commendation.”
“But can I afford the behavior of such a man? People will be astonished at him at every turn. I shall have to hide behind my parasol at every garden party!” Her anger now prevented her from taking it lying down, and she bounded out of bed fuming. She ran to her vanity and began pulling a brush roughly through her hair. “Mama, must we think about destitution all the time? At least we should forget about it when we are together at our dinners. Let Parliament handle it away from the dining table. Let those who do have good food enjoy it!”
“I dined at Buckingham Palace not long ago, Genny. The smell of London’s sewage, in the drains under that palace, was most unpleasant. It is getting very hard to leave the problems of London outside of even the home of the Queen! Now, Wills must be promoted. This is what he is passionate about, and so Papa shall support him on it and sing his praises. Papa is even altering his own viewpoints to support Wills! That will bring him much other support. Perhaps that will move Parliament to improve the situation. Wills will have the credit for it, and you shall be his wife, the Countess of Holmeshire! You shall be hailed everywhere as the wife of that great man! We will be so proud of you.”
“Mother, it is not me you shall be proud of. It is you yourselves. You will be proud that I have done just what Lady Embry thinks I should have done. You will be able to breathe easily at tea, knowing that you will not be scolded for my indelicacy, and that you will be admired as the glowing mother of the Countess of Holmeshire. These opinions that you express to me belong to my father and to Lady Embry. All of them! You do not think for yourself; not ever! I simply do not want that for myself. I do not wish to submit my wishes under someone else constantly as you do, Mama, until I do not even know what mine are anymore! And I do not wish to be an ornament on an earl’s arm. I want my life to be meaningful, fulfilling, worthwhile.”
