‘In that case,’ said Minerva with relief, ‘we will do all we can to help you. Is there any hope you could persuade Lady Godolphin to let Frederica be brought out by you?’
‘I tried,’ Deirdre laughed. ‘But you know how she is. She is firmly convinced that we are all married thanks to her good offices. Lady Godolphin also has Papa’s blessing. But do not worry. I shall be calling on Frederica almost every day so it will almost be the same as bringing her out. Then there is the matter of her clothes. We have all sent her very pretty gowns, but somehow they do not look right on her. She needs a dressmaker with a practised eye. And something must be done about her hair.’
‘It is very pretty when it is curled,’ said Minerva, ‘but after only half an hour it is again falling about her face in wisps. We will send Monsieur André to her and see what magic he can perform. In two days’ time, she will attend the opening, ball at Almack’s. She must look her best.’
‘Don’t fuss, Merva,’ said Deirdre crossly. ‘I am perfectly capable of taking care of Freddie.’
‘Don’t call her Freddie,’ said Daphne. ‘You make her sound like a boy. If some malicious gossip hears you, they will have the whole of the ton talking about “poor Freddie Armitage”.’
‘I do not think we should go off at tangents, discussing what we should call her,’ said Diana. ‘What is worrying me is Frederica’s romantical disposition. Have you seen Pembury? He is very tall and well-built and looks like a fallen angel. If Freddie is not in love with him already I will be very much surprised. Make sure, Deirdre, that she is not allowed to be alone for a moment in his company. Tell Lady Godolphin to be on her guard. Pembury will no doubt call on her just to be polite and Frederica quite probably will read more into his call than actually exists.’
‘I am a married lady now,’ said Deirdre hotly. ‘I am furthermore older than you, Diana, so there is no need to give me orders.’
‘I was simply talking common-sense …’
‘What about Papa?’ demanded Minerva, cutting across Diana’s angry voice.
There was a silence. Then Daphne asked, ‘Why? Have you heard any bad news?’
‘It is what I have not heard that puzzles me,’ said Minerva. ‘Comfrey went down to Hopeworth ostensibly to talk to Papa about a new system of land drainage. He was gone for several days. He had promised to call at the seminary and to bring Frederica back with him.
‘But on his return, he said – rather vaguely – that he had learned Lady Godolphin was a house guest of Pembury, and since Hatton Abbey was quite near the seminary, he and Papa had taken Frederica there. But I had a very odd letter from Papa just the other day in which he bemoans the fact that Frederica preferred the company of a rake to that of her own father. But since she had never met Pembury before, how could she? Comfrey simply laughed and said that Papa had probably subsequently heard all the old scandals about Pembury and was suffering from one of his usual fits of guilt. Papa also wrote to say that everything about Sarah was “all right and tight”. Comfrey said that one of the servants who must have been Sarah had had a bad fever on his visit and that Papa must have assumed I knew about it. Comfrey has never lied to me before. I think perhaps he has been keeping bad news from me because of my illness.’
‘I shall call at the vicarage on my return to the country, Merva,’ said Diana, ‘and I will write to you as soon as possible and let you know how Papa goes on.’
‘Thank you, Diana,’ said Minerva. ‘Now, as to suitable beaux for Frederica …’
The sisters put their elegant heads together and the next half-hour was pleasantly spent writing down names and discussing yearly incomes.
At last the discussion about Frederica was over. In a flurry of silks and satins, Annabelle, Deirdre, Daphne and Diana said farewell to Minerva and went out to their respective carriages.
Annabelle drew Deirdre aside on the pavement outside. ‘I am a cat,’ she said ruefully, ‘but sometimes Freddie seems so vague and dreamy and defenceless, I could shake her.’
‘I’ll take care of her,’ said Deirdre. ‘Perhaps we should all be worrying about you, Annabelle. You do not seem happy. Tell me about it. I will help if I can.’
‘No one can help me,’ said Annabelle. ‘Oh, leave me alone, Deirdre.’
She marched off to her carriage.
‘It’s that baby she longs for and cannot have,’ thought Deirdre sadly. ‘If only …’
But she had prayed for Annabelle so many times and nothing ever seemed to happen.
With a little sigh, Deirdre mounted into her carriage. She would call on Lady Godolphin and make sure everything possible might be done to make Frederica look her best at Almack’s.
Frederica’s thoughts were, in fact, lightly turning to thoughts of love. But despite her sisters’ fears, she had no particular gentleman in mind. It was as if her dream of the merman had awakened something in her. She was frightened of her debut at Almack’s and began to console herself with dreams of a faceless young man who might … well … befriend her. They would chat together and be comfortable together and perhaps, just perhaps, at the end of the Season, he would propose. It was not as if she could hope for a dazzling marriage like any of her sisters’. Perhaps there might be a homely but pleasant young man, as shy as herself, who might take a liking to her.
Deirdre had descended on the house like a whirlwind, demanding to see her ball gown, ordering the services of Monsieur André to do her hair, and reducing poor Mary to tears by pointing out her deficiencies as a lady’s maid.
Frederica had rushed hotly to Mary’s defence, saying she had been a servant herself, and people had no idea how badly servants were treated.
Deirdre had demanded an explanation and Frederica had found herself telling Deirdre the whole story about her flight from the seminary, her job as a chambermaid, and her night in the storm. The only thing she did not tell Deirdre was that she had slept in the arms of the Duke of Pembury.
Listening with increasing horror, Deirdre finally gasped, ‘Papa to marry Sarah?’
‘Oh, not any more,’ said Frederica. ‘He wrote to Lady Godolphin. Lady Godolphin told me that Sarah had been found in fragrant delicious with Guy Wentwater.’
‘No!’
‘Oh, yes, and Sarah is to marry Mr Pettifor who, it seems, loves her very much.’
Deirdre had been so shocked by these revelations that she had quite forgotten to caution her young sister about entertaining any warm feelings towards the Duke of Pembury.
It was only when Frederica was finally being made ready for the ball at Almack’s that Deirdre remembered about the duke but felt the time was not right. The duke would be at Almack’s but dukes did not dance with such as Frederica Armitage. There would be time and enough to caution Frederica in the days to come.
Deirdre sat downstairs in the Yellow Saloon while Mary, Martha, Lady Godolphin’s lady’s maid, and Monsieur André slaved over Frederica’s appearance.
Colonel Arthur Brian, the elderly gentleman Lady Godolphin referred to as her ‘sissybo’, arrived to escort that lady to the ball.
Lady Godolphin waddled in, attired in transparent pink muslin, the seductive effect of which was spoiled by the enormous blue corset she was wearing underneath and which could be plainly seen.
Deirdre had a sudden stab of panic. If Lady Godolphin’s Martha allowed her mistress to go out looking like that, then what on earth was she doing to poor Frederica?
Lady Godolphin had angrily begun to demand of Colonel Brian where that gentleman had been during the past few weeks.
She then hurled in his face the gossip that Lady James had thrown at her, and it was while the colonel was hotly protesting his innocence that the door opened and Mice, Lady Godolphin’s butler, ushered Frederica in.
‘Oh, no!’ moaned Deirdre. ‘What have they done to you?’
Frederica was wearing a white muslin gown with a high waist. It was cut low enough to bare the inadequacies of her bosom. It had white lace sleeves and a white lace demi-tr
ain. The white seemed to draw what little colour there was about Frederica right away, leaving her looking waif-like and forlorn, like a child-bride abandoned on the steps of the church by the bridegroom who had never arrived.
Her hair was curled all over her head, stiff, metallic-looking curls embellished with white silk roses.
‘Is anything the matter, Deirdre?’ asked Frederica timidly. ‘Mary says I do not look like myself at all, and I must confess my head hurts.’
‘Then take that dreadful wig off,’ snapped Deirdre.
‘It isn’t a wig,’ said Frederica. ‘My hair would not stay in its curls and so Monsieur André used a mixture of sugar and water to gum it together.’,
‘Oh, do please be quiet,’ snapped Deirdre, speaking to Lady Godolphin and Colonel Brian who were quarrelling noisily.
She called Mary forward. ‘It seems you have more sense than my lady’s maid and Monsieur André. Take Miss Armitage upstairs immediately and wash all that stuff out of her hair. I am going home to fetch a few things. She must have colour.’
Frederica looked to Lady Godolphin for help. It had taken hours of preparation: hours of being clipped and curled and dressed and perfumed. Surely, she would not have to go through it all again.
But Lady Godolphin and Colonel Brian were still scrapping. ‘My love,’ pleaded the colonel, ‘what I need is your love.’
‘What you need, my good man,’ howled Lady Godolphin, ‘is a kick up the testimonials.’
Deirdre gave Lady Godolphin a scandalized look and pushed Frederica out of the room. ‘Quickly,’ she said. ‘I will not be gone long.’
By the time Frederica was finally declared ready to go to the ball, Deirdre and Mary were exhausted but triumphant.
‘I think Frederica did very well to choose you as lady’s maid,’ said Deirdre. ‘You have a good eye for colour and, what is more important, common-sense.’
Mary’s squashed face turned beet-red with pleasure. She curtsied and murmured that she thought Miss Frederica looked ‘more herself’.
Frederica was now wearing one of Deirdre’s gowns. It had only needed to be taken in at the bosom to become a perfect fit. It was of pale green, very fine silk, a simple cut with a high waist and little puff sleeves. Her hair, which had a slight natural curl, had been washed and brushed until it shone and arranged in a simple style. On her head was a circlet of silk laurel leaves ornamented with emeralds and a dainty necklace of gold and small emeralds shone at her neck.
‘Don’t she look a bit odd?’ said Lady Godolphin, walking around Frederica and surveying the finished result. ‘The rest will all be in white or pale pastels.’
‘She will look different,’ said Deirdre proudly. ‘Where is your fiancé?’
‘If you mean Colonel Brian, he’s gone off – just like last year’s cheese,’ sniffed Lady Godolphin. ‘Was ever a woman so plagued. Maybe I should not have listened to the gossip from that Lady James creature. She drinks scandal broth for breakfast.’
‘Will Lady James be at Almack’s?’ asked Frederica.
‘Not her,’ said Lady Godolphin. ‘She’s person non gracious as far as the patronesses are concerned. We best leave. They don’t let anyone in after eleven. I hope you know what you’re doing, Deirdre. I think Frederica would have been much better to have borrowed one of my wigs.’
‘I am not bald,’ said the much-goaded Frederica. She longed for the courage to say she did not want to go to Almack’s. At least when Martha and Monsieur André had finished with her, she felt she looked a nondescript debutante.
Now she felt strange-looking. She would, she was sure, excite the wrong sort of comment. It was all very well for Deirdre with her red hair, slanting green eyes, and modish gowns to excite attention. ‘There goes another of the beautiful Armitages,’ everyone said when they saw Deirdre, Lady Desire.
And the Duke of Pembury would probably cut her. He would not want to remember he had spent the night with a young miss who looked so farouche.
The Duke of Pembury was leaning against a pillar under the minstrels’ gallery at Almack’s, wondering whether to go home. It had been a flat, insipid evening. His eyes strayed to the clock. Nearly eleven. There was no sign of Miss Frederica Armitage – which was perhaps just as well. Everyone had been gossiping about the latest Armitage girl, and gossip had it she was sadly plain.
The duke’s friend Mr Tommy Ward, a tall, gangling gentleman with sparse hair, a long face and an engaging smile, came strolling up.
‘Evening, Robert,’ he said, being one of the very few people who had the privilege of addressing the duke by his Christian name. ‘You look sadly flat. There are rumours about you flying all over the room. Care to hear a few?’
‘No, thank you,’ said the duke wearily.
‘They’re saying you’re fishing for a wife,’ said Mr Ward blithely. ‘They say if you’re fishing for a wife then why don’t you make the slightest push to dance with anybody? They say there was some scandal about the youngest Armitage, working as a servant in your household so as to entrap you. The mamas say that ain’t fair and Miss Armitage should have her vouchers withdrawn. The patronesses refuse to listen but o’ course, they’re all frightened of Lady Godolphin. I feel quite sorry for the Armitage chit. No one but the most hardened fortune hunter is going to dance with her.’
‘Do not rattle on so, Tommy. You make my head ache. Frederica Armitage is little more than a schoolgirl. She ran away from her seminary because some trouble at her home was distressing her. She has as much interest in me as I have in her.’
‘Why do you not care to dance?’
The duke sighed. ‘Truth to tell, Tommy, I find all the ladies here look remarkably the same. Hard to tell one from t’other.’
‘Well, by George, if you want an original, take a look at the latest arrival. Reminds me of a sea nymph. She’s with Lady Godolphin. Never say that’s the Armitage girl!’
The duke looked across the bobbing heads of the dancers towards the entrance. Lady Godolphin was outrageously unmistakable. Beside her stood Frederica.
‘I believe her eyes are green,’ murmured the duke. ‘Why did I not notice that before?’
‘Only see how they cut her!’ exclaimed Mr Ward. ‘And she so young and frail. I am going over there this minute …’
The duke put a restraining hand on his arm. ‘My pleasure, I think, dear Tommy. After all, Miss Armitage and I have already met.’
The duke made his way quickly to where Frederica was now sitting with Lady Godolphin. There was a flush of pink on her cheeks. Frederica had noticed the snubs and wished she could sink through the floor. Beside her, Lady Godolphin was puffing and panting with outrage. Frederica was sure that lady was about to burst out with a string of oaths.
Then she heard that deep, familiar voice. ‘I have been looking forward to furthering my acquaintance with Miss Armitage,’ said the Duke of Pembury.
Lady Godolphin’s wrath disappeared like magic. She gave the duke a wide, crocodile-like smile. ‘Then I shall leave you with Frederica and go and slay a few gossip-mongers,’ she said, rising and shaking out her flimsy skirts.
The duke took her vacated seat. He turned and surveyed Frederica who was nervously playing with the sticks of her fan.
‘I compliment you on your appearance, Miss Armitage,’ he said.
‘It is kind of you to say so,’ said Frederica gratefully, ‘but I know you are only being kind. Only see how everyone stared at me and then turned their backs. I must look like the veriest freak. I am sure I looked much better earlier in the evening, but my sister Deirdre, Lady Harry Desire, she screamed when she saw me and would not let me leave until all the sugar and water had been washed out of my hair.’
The duke laughed. ‘Sugar and water? Were they trying to make a pudding of you?’
‘No,’ confided Frederica naively. ‘It was to stick my hair up in curls. But Deirdre said it looked like a wig. If I do not look like a freak now, why is everyone being so pointedly cold to me?’
‘Because your adventures as a chambermaid are well known.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Frederica miserably. ‘I had not thought of that.’ She brightened. ‘If I amsuch a social pariah, there is no point in my remaining in London. I can go home.’ Then her face fell. Deirdre had questioned her closely about Sarah and Frederica had told her all about it, believing Minerva to have read her letter. It was, therefore, no longer a secret. Deirdre had said roundly that of course Papa would not marry Sarah, but now Frederica felt miserably that Papa should do the Right Thing and marry Sarah. It was all so worrying.
‘Do not look so distressed,’ he said gently. ‘My attentions this evening will bring you back into the fold of the ton.’
‘Are you so very important?’ Frederica looked at him curiously.
‘In this frivolous world of the top ten thousand,’ he said tartly, ‘you do not ask a very rich duke of marriageable age whether he is important or not. You are supposed to know better.’
‘I will learn,’ sighed Frederica. She looked at him cautiously. ‘You are much more impressive at Almack’s, now I see you set against the other gentlemen.’
‘In what way?’
‘You are quite elegant,’ said Frederica kindly. ‘You make every other man in the room seem fussy. I would like you to meet my twin brothers, Peregrine and James. They are both suffering from fashionitis at the moment and Papa always grumbles about the amount of money they get through, but of course he always pays them because, after all, they are gentlemen and not ladies.’
‘And money should not be wasted on ladies?’
‘Oh, no. Only just for a Season or two to see if the bait takes. I have great hopes that Papa will despair of me after this Season and will not trouble to try again.’
He looked down with a lurking twinkle in his eyes at the small figure of Frederica sitting next to him. ‘I am persuaded, Miss Armitage, that you will have many suitors before the Season is finished. Here comes Lady Godolphin.’
That lady approached them, the blazing candlelight of the ballroom shining right through her dress and exposing not only her corset to the vulgar gaze but a pair of diamonded garters which were holding up her flesh-pink stockings. Following her was a stocky, countrified-looking gentleman.
Frederica in Fashion Page 9
