The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove

by Janey Louise Jones

  'Nonsense!' I laughed. Lucy is ten times prettier than me. And I think scores of other society girls are lovelier too.

  'Well, if you can't come to the ball, then I shall travel down to the Daisy Park and tell you all about it. How's that?' suggested Lucy.

  'Oh, that sounds absolutely perfect!' I exclaimed. 'And you'd better have lots of details about Mr Hughes. Real live facts, I mean,' I added.

  'Fear not,' said Lucy with a gleam in her eye. 'My mission is to have his name on my dance card by nine o'clock!'

  Chapter Four

  We set off for the country on the Saturday morning about ten o'clock, with all manner of articles attached to the top of the coach, as we would now be in the country until the wedding in a month's time. I tried to banish all thoughts of missing the ball from my mind. We took leave of my father and he waved us out of the courtyard of Musgrove House.

  Mama was propped up comfortably in the corner of our largest carriage, which was not the smartest one, but ideal for a rough cross-country journey in early April. She was lying against pillows and quilts, all wrapped up in layers and looking like a tiny swaddled baby. Lottie fussed over her sweetly.

  I had sent a message ahead to Estella, so she would know to expect us. In it, I told her about Mama's illness too. We wanted the house to be ready for her, with a doctor in attendance, and we also wanted Estella to be prepared for her condition.

  Mrs Willow was overseeing the mini-removal – she was wonderfully efficient. My mother relied on her too, and felt better when she was around. Lily was quite excited about the trip to the country, for she had never been out of London. I felt my spirits lift as we left the city as well. I was sure Mama would soon feel better once we were at the Daisy Park.

  Just outside Oxford, we stopped for refreshments and to change the horses. The coaching inn, called the Black Mare, was a little rough, but Mama needed to rest. They served us with freshly baked bread, a hot stew and local cheese, with apples and pickles. Lottie accompanied my mother to a private room to put her feet up, while Mrs Willow and I ate in the snug, where there was quite a buzz of chatter and a blazing fire by which to warm ourselves.

  'Where are you bound?' asked a local man.

  'Cheltenham area,' replied our coachman, Ted.

  'Well, watch yourselves, for there's a highwayman at large. Plaguing the gateway to the Cotswolds, so he is. And he's cunning. He's felled the occupants of many a fancy coach with his wily ways. So be warned, driver, stop for no one on ill-lit pathways and take no risks!' said the man.

  Going out into the yard again, I found Lily and Matthew and told them the news about the highwayman, and then gave them a basket of food from the inn. We all made ready for the next stage of the journey. We said goodbye to our beloved horses, Silverbell and Cloud. Of course, we would see them again soon. Once they were rested, a postillion rider would bring them on to the Daisy Park.

  As the evening wore on, Lily, Lottie, Mrs Willow and I all dozed, along with Mama – the effects of the food and wine, no doubt. But I was jerked awake by a sudden cry from Ted.

  'There's an injured rider ahead!' he shouted down to us.

  We peered out of the window, trying to make out the scene on the narrow country road ahead.

  I saw a figure lying in the road, and then we heard a feeble voice begging for help. 'Can you help a poor man with a broken leg?' the stranger cried. 'I've been stuck here for half a day or more and I'm losing blood. My horse has stood faithfully by my side, but he's hungry and weak.'

  Lily frowned. I guessed that she was still thinking of the warning from the coaching inn. But my mother was very keen to stop and aid the traveller.

  'Poor soul – the least we can do is take him to the nearest doctor!' she said.

  By now, Ted had slowed down somewhat. I gazed at the stranger as we drew closer, trying to work out if he was to be trusted. I didn't want to be heartless, but the warnings from the Black Mare were fresh in my mind. The man called out for mercy, but still I could not see his face, which was turned away from us at an odd angle.

  From the way he held himself I could not be sure that he was in pain. And when I looked at his horse I thought that it did not look like a creature which had spent half a day without food or water. At this point, Dinky, who was sitting on my lap, growled ominously.

  'Ted,' I shouted out, my mind made up. 'Remember the warning at the inn! Do not stop. Drive on!'

  Mama looked aghast, but as our coach rattled past, I called from the window to the traveller: 'We will send help from the next coaching inn. We already have an invalid on board and have no space!'

  'Sophia, how uncharitable!' scolded my mother. 'We could have squeezed up and made space.'

  But we all looked back along the road as we sped away from the scene and my mother gasped.

  'Oh, my dear! I'm so sorry. You were right!' she cried, falling back upon her cushions, for the 'injured' man was now standing up in the middle of the road – clearly uninjured – and as he turned towards us, a shaft of moonlight revealed the black mask of a highwayman across his eyes!

  We travelled on through the night and into the next morning, with Matthew taking the reins from Ted every so often. Poor Mrs Willow continued to fret about highwaymen.

  'Mrs Willow, I don't think anyone will dare take on Miss Sophia and Lily Vallant!' joked Ted when we stopped to change horses at Moreton. 'Not if he knows what's good for him!' He winked at Lily, who blushed and giggled.

  As the rising sun bathed the early morning landscape, we clip-clopped into the quaint Cotswold village of Whistling Sparrows, and within minutes were bowling along the drive of the Daisy Park. It was lovely to see the sweet old manor house ahead in the distance, and nicer still to think of seeing darling Estella when we reached it.

  Mama pinched her cheeks to give them colour and tidied herself, ready to meet her eldest child. And then we saw Estella running down the driveway to greet us, having heard the horses' hooves in the quiet of the early morning. She looked a picture in her flowing sprig-patterned muslin dress, with her blonde hair flying loose in the breeze. Ted slowed the carriage and Estella dived in on top of us. Mrs Willow rebuked her gently.

  'Your mother is in a delicate state, dear child. Be careful!' she said with a warm smile.

  Estella covered our mother in kisses and jumped back out of the coach as we drew to a halt outside the house. We all climbed out as the coachmen and some servants began to unload our luggage.

  'Mind the wedding hat, you clumsy carthorse!' called Lily to Ted, in a fit of giggles.

  'Did she say wedding hat ?' asked Estella. 'Oooh, do let me see it!'

  Mama smiled, watching Estella and me walking arm in arm as she was carefully carried into the house by Ted and Matthew, with Lottie fussing at her side.

  Our life in the city seemed so far away as we set about bringing our country bedrooms to life, catching up on bits of local news, and, of course, engaging in wedding chit-chat. We usually stay in the country for two months at a time, although these were rather unusual circumstances, what with the wedding and Mama's illness.

  Lily was a dear: she went about her duties quietly, arranging our favourite things exactly how we wanted them. On our arrival Miss Bowes, Estella's companion, took the opportunity to return to the rectory and visit her elderly parents.

  I told Estella about our brush with the highwayman. 'If he had triumphed over us, we would have lost all Mama's jewels for the wedding,' I commented.

  'Never mind the jewels, what if you'd been injured?' gasped Estella.

  'I know, it was a lucky escape!' I agreed.

  When Mama was settled in her soft white sheets, with her pretty quilted counterpane tucked around her, Estella drew me into the drawing room to talk.

  'I am so shocked, Sophie. Mama looks much aged and quite ashen. What on earth is the matter?'

  'We simply do not know, Stella. Even the doctors are baffled,' I explained. 'You already know how the Queen overworks her, and since we brought her home
we have been nursing her as best we can. What more can we do to cheer her?'

  'I was wondering . . .' Estella said thoughtfully. 'Shall we send for Harry? You know how his antics make her smile. What do you think?' she asked me.

  'I did wonder about that,' I mused. 'And why not?' I decided, feeling the warm family spirit enveloping me. 'He needs to come back for the wedding in any case, so we may as well fetch him back a little sooner!'

  Estella nodded. 'I shall ask Papa to send a message to the headmaster at The Glebe. Harry will be pleased to get out of there and I'm sure he will cheer Mama up no end.'

  I spent the evening quietly. I was tired from the journey and it was pleasant to walk in the grounds of the Daisy Park, enjoying the pretty spring garden and chatting with my sister.

  On the Monday morning I realized with delight that Lucy would soon be arriving with news of the ball, and as I gathered spring flowers from the walled garden, a note arrived to say that Lucy and Lady Lennox were resting at the nearest coaching inn at Moreton-in-Marsh, and would soon be with us.

  My heart sang. It would be wonderful to hear all about the ball – and whether Lucy had danced with Mr Hughes.

  Chapter Five

  As we awaited Lucy and Lady Lennox's arrival, a messenger arrived.

  'Ah, Lord Sandford's crest,' observed Estella, examining the envelope. 'My in-laws are staying with him at Mellorbay Hall, remember?'

  I nodded. I had met Lord Sandford a few times at local events in Whistling Sparrows. From what I could remember he was tall and handsome in a military way. Three years earlier, when I was fourteen, his young wife had died most tragically in childbirth.

  Estella opened the note as we enjoyed a cold luncheon of ham and salad together in the dining room.

  'Ah! He is inviting us all to dine with him this evening,' she said. 'He has some young company from the city – recovering from the Queen's ball, by all accounts – as well as Percy and his family, and he wants to make a party of it.'

  'But what of Lucy and Lady Lennox? We cannot leave them here alone, with dear Mama poorly in bed!' I pointed out.

  'Yes, of course. Hmm. Would it be very rude to ask if they might be included?' pondered my sister.

  'As I recall, Lord Sandford is a kindly man who doesn't stand on ceremony. If he has young friends down from London, Lucy will simply love it,' I said, keen that we should all be of the party. 'And could we ask Miss Bowes to sit with Mama, just for the evening? They get along so well.'

  'That's a brilliant idea, Sophie!' agreed Estella. 'And I'm sure Lord Sandford won't mind. I will pen him a note right away . . .' And she set about writing to Lord Sandford and Miss Bowes, while I walked to the end of our driveway, hopeful of meeting my best friend as she arrived.

  I was not disappointed. As I neared the black wrought-iron gates, a shiny, dark-burgundy coach turned into the drive; a pretty peaches-and-cream face framed by glorious golden hair was hanging out of the window as the coachman reined in the horses.

  'Sophie! I'm breathing the country air to make my cheeks pinker. Is it working?' cried Lucy.

  'Yes, Lucy, they are very pink indeed!' I called back. 'How lovely to see you! Good afternoon, Lady Lennox.'

  'Good afternoon, Sophia. How pretty this place always looks! And how is your dear mother?' enquired Lucy's aunt.

  I jumped into their coach for the ride back down to the house. 'She is no worse, thank you, Lady Lennox,' was the best I could say, 'but she's not receiving, as I'm sure you'll understand.'

  'Of course, dear. We can only hope to see her stronger in time, that's all,' said Lady Lennox kindly.

  Lucy whispered to me, 'We'll go for a walk shortly, and I will tell you everything about the ball!'

  Lady Lennox smiled and looked ahead as though she hadn't heard a word.

  When we had all taken tea in the drawing room – without Mama, of course – Estella received a second note from Mellorbay Hall.

  'Lord Sandford says he would very much like to invite Lucy and Lady Lennox to dinner this evening. There is to be a merry party of twenty or more,' explained Estella. 'Oh, do say you'll come!' she cried, looking at our guests.

  Lucy glanced at Lady Lennox for approval, and she nodded happily.

  'Hooray!' Lucy whispered to me. 'A party. And hosted by the wealthy Lord Sandford – who is said to be very handsome! I can't wait! Now, let's go into the garden and gather posies for our dresses for this evening,' she suggested with a wink.

  We linked arms and made our way through the long orchard as the warm spring sun shone down on us.

  'So, Lucy. Tell me all. Did you see him – the Adorable Johnny Hughes?' I asked.

  'Oh, Sophie, he was there, but only briefly. I heard he was dancing, and I went to powder my nose so I would be looking my best if I bumped into him, and then, when I returned, I was told he had gone! All night long I hoped to see him return, but alas, he did not. Can you believe what rotten luck that was?' sighed Lucy.

  'A missed opportunity indeed,' I agreed. 'How elusive he is! But there will be other occasions to meet him, I'm sure. And there must be other gossip to tell?'

  'Of course. Well, you know your neighbour in Mayfair, Arabella de Villeneuve?'

  'Yes, of course. Go on – this sounds interesting, Luce,' I said.

  'As you know, she has been engaged to Lord Somerset for months, but he has been dilly-dallying and there was no date set for a wedding. Well, in order to make him jealous, she danced all evening with Mr James Pitt, nephew to the former Prime Minister.'

  'Hmm. He's not bad looking – if a bit namby-pamby for me,' I commented.

  'I agree,' said Lucy. 'Anyway, they say that Lord Somerset was all of a sudden sick with jealousy, and declared that they should marry with the greatest of haste. And do you know what Arabella said? She said "No!" That she has fallen in love with Mr Pitt is certain – and her engagement to Lord Somerset is off !'

  'Oh my goodness!' I gasped.

  Lucy nodded. 'What started as a ruse to make her fiancé jealous has turned into true love!'

  'It is amazing,' I laughed. 'But I say good for her. He's kept her dangling for two years or more!'

  'I know, and she's already twenty-three!' agreed Lucy.

  It was lovely to hear Lucy's news. When we had gathered our posies and returned to the house, I was thrilled to see that my mother was taking tea in the day room with Mrs Willow and Lady Lennox.

  'Mama! How lovely to see you up and dressed!' I exclaimed.

  'Well, Sophia, we have guests. And I can rest when you all go out to dinner later,' said Mama. She looked fragile, but a little more like herself in a cosy mauve day dress with pretty bows on the bodice.

  I was so uplifted by the improvement in my mother's health that I became very excited about the dinner party, and Lucy and I tried to guess who might be there. We asked Estella if she knew.

  'There will be the Dovetails and ourselves, of course. Then the Reverend Allen will be there, and Mr Archer, the lawyer from Crossbows House. But there are a few more, seemingly,' she explained – she had been gathering snippets of information from notes she'd been exchanging all day with her fiancé, Mr Dovetail.

  'Let's make ourselves look as lovely as possible,' I said to Lucy. 'Shall we go upstairs and try on some dresses?'

  'Yes, this party sounds like fun. I've brought jewellery and scarves and hairbands. Come on!' enthused Lucy, who has a great eye for fashion.

  We rushed upstairs to the big dressing room, which has a vast gold-framed mirror on a stand.

  We laid out all the possible options and I decided on a pale pink dress, with a white posy at the neckline and a simple pearl choker. Lucy settled on a powder blue, low-cut satin gown, with sapphires at her throat and ears. Lucy has far more bust to reveal than I, but I live in hope of developing further in that area. (I have been doing some exercises which are supposed to help. No luck so far!)

  Once we had settled on our outfits, we decided to have a bath. Our country housekeeper, Miss Larch, was quite
appalled by our 'over-washing', as she called it. 'You'll wash away all the natural oils from your skin and then you'll be needing creams for moisture, I've no doubt,' she told us. 'And who'll be profiting? The cream-makers, that's who!'

  Then she remembered herself and said, 'Two baths will be ready in twenty minutes, Miss Musgrove, all scented and what not. One in the middle bathroom and one in the top.' Lucy and I giggled nervously and thanked her. We never know if Miss Larch will be jolly or cross, which puts us on edge a little.

  After bathing, we put on our robes as we dried our long hair and smoothed creams into our skin – just as Miss Larch had predicted.

  Lily is an absolute wizard with hair-dos. We only have to show her a picture in a French magazine and she looks in her box of pins, nets, curlers, combs and clips, before saying, 'Yes, I'm sure I can do that, miss.' I think she practises on her own hair on her days off.

  Once we were dressed in our undergarments and slips, it was time for Lily to weave her magic. She had brought some pretty pearl brooches in her box. I had not thought to pack them for the country, but Lily thinks of everything. She fastened the brooches onto velvet hairbands, which were placed on our up-dos. 'Now then, you're both as pretty as Gainsborough pictures, I must say,' she told us happily. 'A bit of lip cream on your lips and kohl on your eyelashes and you'll steal the heart of any lord!'

  As we dithered, changing into different shoes and bracelets, we heard Estella call up from the hallway, 'Girls! We must go. It would never do to be late. What will the Dovetails think of me?'

  Hurriedly we emerged, our outfits completed with short jackets which sat at the empire line of the dresses. Mine was made from silky black velvet and Lucy's was in soft ivory duchesse satin. Of course we took pretty reticules too, which Lucy had brought down from London.

  'Ta-dah!' said Lucy, posing as we descended the staircase. 'Are you not proud of us, Estella?'

  We gazed at Estella, who looked exquisitely pretty in a delphinium silk dress. It had rather too much structure and was a little 'last century', but she still looked gorgeous. Her sweet face, which is heart-shaped with large wide-set eyes and a sweet little upturned nose, lit up. 'You're both quite beautiful, so I shall forgive you for taking so long,' she said. 'Come on now!'