by Lynn Morris
Lady Sefton possessed a definite aura of kindness and warmth. She was a small woman, and delicate, with polished elegance.
Mirabella and Josephine thanked her, and eagerly Josephine asked, “So you have met my brother, Lady Sefton?”
“Yes, Sefton and I were riding yesterday in the park, and we met Sir Giles and Captain Rosborough, and Sir Giles introduced us. I remarked that I had found Captain Rosborough to be charming, and Sefton allowed that he did keep a tolerable seat for an infantryman.”
With amusement Lady Camarden said, “I wasn’t aware that you ever rode with Lord Sefton, I admit I’m surprised he allows you.” Lord Sefton’s nickname was Lord Dashalong, for the reckless manner in which he drove his coaches all over Town.
Lady Sefton replied, “It’s not so much that he doesn’t invite me, it’s that I’m usually paralyzed with terror. He’s relatively calm in the park, however, so I can enjoy myself there at least.”
They spent an enjoyable twenty minutes visiting, and then called on Mrs. Drummond-Burrell. She was one of the wealthiest women in England, and she dressed with great style. Her clothes were always sumptuous and obviously outrageously expensive. Her manner in greeting them was overly grand, but in the course of the visit she thawed a bit. She even welcomed Josephine to Almack’s. In the carriage Lady Camarden remarked that in private she found Mrs. Drummond-Burrell to be much more affable.
“I, too, have spoken with her at Almack’s,” Mirabella said thoughtfully, “and found that she can be interesting, and even animated. She’s a devout Christian, you know, and she obviously adores Mr. Drummond-Burrell.”
“And he adores her,” Lady Camarden said. “I find it unusual, in these libertine days. He is a famous dandy, and definitely runs with the fast set. But there’s never been a hint of scandal about him, and of course everyone knows that Clementina would never have an affair.”
“Unlike some other of the patronesses,” Mirabella said mischievously. “Although I must say that personally I find Lord Palmerston so devilishly charming that I can’t help flirting with him myself.”
Josephine couldn’t contain her curiosity. “One of the Lady Patronesses is having an affair with Lord Palmerston?”
Lady Camarden said, “He was rumored to have an affair with Lady Jersey, he definitely had an affair with Countess Lieven, and now he and Lady Cowper are well known to be a couple, although, of course, they’re discreet.”
Josephine’s eyes sparkled. “So, am I to meet this irresistible man?”
“Certainly,” Mirabella said. “But I thought you’d be shocked.”
“No, dearest, I’d be a simpleton if I didn’t know that such things went on, and not only in Polite Society, either. In fact, among the highest circles I’m often more surprised to hear of devoted, loyal couples like the Drummond-Burrells than I am to hear of the famous people who are having affairs.”
“That’s because the couples who don’t indulge in illicit affairs aren’t nearly as interesting as those who do,” Lady Camarden said tartly. “Who wants to gossip about faithful couples?”
They came to Lady Cowper’s home, and were immediately ushered in.
Emily, Lady Cowper was twenty-six years old, and looked even younger. She was a beautiful woman, with a wealth of dark hair exquisitely dressed, dark eyes with perfectly arched brows, a small delicate nose, and full lips. When she smiled, which she often did, she glowed with warmth and grace. She greeted Mirabella with a kiss, and returned Josephine’s curtsy with a cordial one of her own.
“Miss Rosborough, I’m so happy to make your acquaintance, Mirabella has written and told me much of you and your family. And I’ve had the distinct pleasure of meeting your brother. We’re all so looking forward to you joining us at Almack’s this Season.”
“Thank you, Lady Cowper, you’re very kind,” Josephine said. “I’m so glad you’ve met my brother, it seems that he’s already making his way around Town quite easily.”
“Men can do that, you know,” Lady Cowper said. “They’re introduced, and then in their dull, unimaginative way, the other men just accept them as one of the fellows. We ladies have a much more laborious task in introducing ourselves. Still, Lady Camarden and Mirabella know everyone, and you’ll find that you’ll soon be surrounded by amiable acquaintances, and even some friends.”
“I do hope so,” Josephine said. “I admit I have been a little worried, however, since Lady Jersey said that I have a pert nose. I’d hate to get a reputation for being pert, such ladies are so very annoying. I hope that my nose doesn’t come to define me.”
Lady Cowper laughed, a soft pleasing silvery sound. “I’ve only known you for two minutes, and I can already see that you’re nothing like those young women that mistake being impudent for wit. I wouldn’t be too concerned with whatever observations Lady Jersey makes about your person. She once told me that my bosom is too small, and I should have my dressmaker design a corset to enhance it. What’s worse, she said it in front of my husband and Lord Jersey, who never blinked an eye, and even managed not to let his gaze drop to my bosom. But Cowper turned as crimson as blood. Anyway, I’ve found that life is fairly enjoyable, even with a small bosom.”
The ladies were delighted with this anecdote, and Josephine said, “Now I don’t feel at all concerned about my nose. At least she didn’t say it in front of any gentlemen.”
Lady Cowper said, “Not this time, perhaps, but please don’t be disconcerted if she says something outrageous in mixed company, you certainly won’t be her first victim, or her last. Now, please tell me whom you’ve met, and how you’re finding London.”
The ladies spent a pleasurable half hour talking. When they were on their way home Josephine said, “Do you know, Lady Cowper is one of the most gracious ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. I find it interesting that the patronesses are so wildly different. Lady Castlereagh, Countess Lieven, and Mrs. Drummond-Burrell were polite, but I definitely detected the sort of condescension one would expect from their exalted stations. But Lady Sefton and Lady Cowper, and even Lady Jersey, in her own may I say unique way, were quite personable and easy.”
“It’s a nine days’ wonder that they ever agree on anything,” Lady Camarden said. Then she bestowed one of her rare smiles on Josephine. “But one thing they did all agree on was to accept you and Lewin to Almack’s. And so, Josephine, I know that your success in Town is assured.”
Lightly Josephine said, “I know I’m going to have such fun, I’m so excited. As for my success, I’ll know that I’ve truly arrived when I have an opportunity to flirt with Lord Palmerston, and see if he will flirt with me.”
Mirabella scoffed, “Josephine, you never flirt. You will, however, charm him, I’m sure.”
“But I should like to learn to flirt. You could teach me.”
“If I catch either of you flirting, I’m instantly sending you back to Camarden,” Lady Camarden said dourly.
“Oh, Mamma, we’ll be good,” Mirabella said.
“I know that, Mirabella. It’s not you two girls I’m worried about. It’s the young men.”
Cheerfully Mirabella said, “Don’t worry about the men, Mamma. We can handle them.”
Lady Camarden grimaced. “We shall see.”
* * *
Giles and Lewin came to breakfast the next morning, to Mirabella’s and Josephine’s delight. It was the first time they’d seen them since arriving in London.
The Camarden town house had no morning room, for it had a fine garden in the back, with a loggia that was used as a breakfast room in fine weather. The dining room was enormous, with a table that sat eighteen. As usual, however, when it was merely “family,” they all sat together at one end, close to the sideboard. It was heavily laden with Monsieur Danton’s breakfast, which was never simple, and never sparse. Every morning there was a feast. Today there were boiled eggs, fricasseed eggs, and egg-and-cheese pie; ham, chops, veal, beef tongue, and enough bacon to feed a regiment; oatmeal with sweet cream; a steaming
mound of jacket potatoes roasted crispy in olive oil and seasoned with thyme; four kinds of bread and three kinds of rolls, and of course butter, honey, marmalade, and seven different kinds of fruit jams.
When the diners’ plates were fully laden, they seated themselves with Lord Camarden at the head of the table, absorbed in reading the Times. Mirabella said to Giles and Lewin, “I hear that you gentlemen have been so much in demand that I thought we might not see you except at Almack’s or some ball or other.”
“Yes, we’re quite the men about town,” Giles said. “We’re fairly exhausted from all the strutting we’ve been doing, especially Lewin, since his new boots are hurting him.”
“They pinch something monstrous,” Lewin grumbled. “I’m not taking another strutting step until I go back to the bootmaker and tell him that if he doesn’t stretch them out he’s going to be wearing them on his head.”
“Lewin, for shame,” Josephine said. “Such violent emotions, and at breakfast, too.”
“For my part I can’t blame him, this is the first time I’ve ever known Harrigan not to fit a shoe perfectly,” Giles said. “So that’s going to be our first call this morning, or Lewin is going to stay in this black mood.”
“Quite right,” Lewin muttered.
Mirabella asked eagerly, “You’re going to Bond Street this morning? We’re going shopping, too. Why don’t you join us? You see, we’re already dressed.”
Giles said, “Yes, I had particularly noted that you were dressed.”
“You cretin, I meant that we already have our carriage costumes on, and our hair is done,” Mirabella rasped.
“I know what you meant, my lady,” Giles said mischievously. “I’m a gentleman of such discrimination that I know perfectly well the difference between a morning gown and carriage costume.”
“That’s more than I know,” Lewin said with somewhat more cheer. “What about it, Giles? Shall we join the ladies? If your ladyship is amenable, of course.”
“You and Giles are always welcome,” Lady Camarden said. “Though you may regret it, if Mirabella goes on one of her marathon shopping tours.”
“Not today, Mamma,” Mirabella said. “I only want to go to Mrs. Varenne’s for a fitting, and to Rundell & Bridge to pick up my opals.”
“That will work fine for us,” Giles said. “If I’m not mistaken, Mrs. Varenne’s establishment is just down from Harrigan’s, and, as a matter of fact, I have some business to attend to at Rundell & Bridge.”
Mirabella said, “Very good, we shall enjoy your company. But what I’d really like to search out today is to find a good dance master that’s in town. Father, could you please look at the advertisements for dance masters?”
“Hmph? What?” Lord Camarden said, appearing from behind his newspaper. “Dance master? Why should you want a dance master?”
“We must, we simply must find some suitable dance master that can teach us the German waltz before next Wednesday,” Mirabella replied.
“Nonsense,” Lord Camarden said, and dived back behind the Times.
Giles said, “I know the waltz, I can teach you. If you have permission to learn it, of course.”
Lord Camarden mumbled something, but Mirabella ignored him. “Of course we have permission, don’t we, Mamma? After all, Countess Lieven is introducing it at Almack’s, so there can’t be anything wrong with it.”
Still Giles was looking at Lady Camarden, and though she frowned, she answered, “Yes, the girls may learn the waltz, Giles. If I didn’t give my permission there would be no living with Mirabella.”
Eagerly Mirabella said, “Giles, when may we have our first lesson? Today?”
“When we return from our errands we can have a session if you’d like,” Giles answered. “We two strutting bucks have no engagements this afternoon.”
Mirabella smiled brilliantly. “‘He is the very pineapple of politeness.’”
Giles’s blue eyes sparkled. “I am. After all, ‘few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value the ineffectual qualities in a woman.’ Like getting dressed before breakfast.”
Josephine said thoughtfully, “You know, that’s one of Mrs. Malaprop’s quotes I’ve never quite been able to fathom. What do you suppose she meant by ‘pineapple’?”
“Paragon?” Mirabella suggested.
“Pinnacle?” Giles offered.
“Pear,” Lewin said firmly. “Pear of politeness. In keeping with the fruited theme, you see.”
Lady Camarden sighed. “I now know I’ll not hear a sensible conversation all this long day.”
Indeed, sensible conversation was rather rare. Giles and Lewin rode, while Lady Camarden, Mirabella, and Josephine took the carriage, so Giles’s and Mirabella’s banter was considerably reduced. Still, Mirabella and Josephine were in such high spirits that they were rather silly. They reached Mrs. Varenne’s dressmaker’s shop, and Giles and Lewin went down Bond Street to Harrigan’s.
Mrs. Varenne was a tall, stately, elegant lady, now sixty, with exquisite clothes, and bright-silver hair that was always dressed fashionably. She greeted the ladies with appropriate deference, but with dignity. She was from a noble family, but her husband had left her an impoverished widow, and she was obliged to make her living as a modiste. Her establishment was very exclusive, patronized by elite ladies of the haut ton.
Lady Camarden started looking around at the exquisite fabrics and trims on display, and Josephine started to follow her. Mirabella said, “Josephine, please come with me, I want you to see my dress.” Josephine followed her into an elegantly appointed alcove dressing room.
The dress was a gown Mirabella had designed herself, and had had made for her birthday ball. Every year Lord and Lady Camarden gave a grand ball in honor of Mirabella’s birthday, March twenty-fifth. The gown was on a mannequin form, supplied by Mirabella, that conformed to her exact measurements.
“Oh, Mirabella, it’s absolutely lovely,” Josephine breathed. “The color, the fabric…such richness.”
It was a deep, shimmering royal-blue satin. Mirabella had decided on a very simple design, for she thought that the fabulous glimmer of the satin had little need of embellishment. Above an Empire waist, the neckline was low, both in the front and in the back, and was off the shoulder. Around the neckline were three deep layers of white Binche lace, as delicate as a spider’s web, and the fall of lace formed sleeves, instead of the gown’s having cap sleeves. A single band of the lace was at the high waist, and three identical layers adorned the hem, which had a demi-train.
With Mrs. Varenne’s assistance, Mirabella put the dress on. “Mm, yes, I see the difficulty now, Mrs. Varenne,” she said thoughtfully. “The lace border falls so low on my shoulders that the sleeves have a tendency to slip down. Can it be remedied?”
“Certainly, my lady,” Mrs. Varenne said. “All that need be done is to have a very thin strap of satin running just under the top layer of lace. You will need to be sewn into it, of course, but I would be honored to come on the evening of your ball and do the necessary stitching.”
“That’s kind of you, but it won’t be necessary,” Mirabella replied. “My maid is extremely skilled, and will be able to accomplish it with no trouble. So please go on and fashion the straps and have it delivered. I’m so happy with it, Mrs. Varenne, you’ve created a vision, as always.”
Mrs. Varenne gave her one of her rare smiles. “It was your creation, my lady, and if I may say, you are the vision.”
Their business on Bond Street concluded, the party went into the City of London proper, to Ludgate Hill. In 1789 the distinguished jewelers Rundell and Bridge had been appointed Royal Goldsmiths, Silversmiths, Jewellers, and Medallists. Philip Rundell was rather an irascible man, often brusque, but he was reputed to be the best judge of gemstones in London. In contrast, John Bridge, who was essentially the public face of the firm, was a sophisticated, elegant man, and served his clients with the utmost in understanding and discretion. Walking into their store was like walking into a bejeweled fai
ryland.
Mr. Bridge immediately came to greet them, and was introduced to Josephine and Lewin, and he welcomed them fully as warmly as he had greeted Lady Camarden, Mirabella, and Giles. “Lady Mirabella, I’m so happy to say that we’ve restored your necklace without a single sign of a repair. It’s such a fine piece that I could not have borne a flaw. Naturally, since it was our own production there will be no charge.”
Mirabella’s opal necklace, a piece of jewelry that she particularly treasured, had been broken. Now she protested, “Sir, you are too kind. I believe I confessed to you that I broke the necklace myself, trying to remove it without my maid’s assistance. I’m only too happy to pay for the repair.”
“I’m afraid that will not do, my lady,” he said with a smile. “You and your family are much-valued patrons. It’s a pleasure to provide you with this small service. If you would be so kind as to wait a moment, I’ll go get your ladyship’s necklace.”
“As if we would mind waiting,” Mirabella said. “You know very well, Mr. Bridge, that my mamma and I can barely tear ourselves away.”
Mr. Bridge said, “Then I shall certainly give you all the time you need, my lady.” He said a quiet word to Giles, and the two of them went into the back, where the offices were.
Mirabella looked around the glittering store, and immediately her gaze was drawn to a display in the center of the room. On a high square glass case was a sky-blue velvet box, beautifully lit by two Argand lamps. She went to it as if she were mesmerized. In the box was a parure of sapphires and diamonds: a necklace, post earrings, and a tiara. The pear-cut sapphires were of the purest deep blue she had ever seen. The stones were not large; indeed, the diamonds surrounding the sapphires were small enough to look more like frost than like hard stones. The pieces were set in silver, but it was silver of such a luster that it seemed to glow of itself.
“Oh, Mamma, look at this. Aren’t they exquisite?” Mirabella breathed.
