Frederica in Fashion

by Beaton, M. C.

  ‘This here,’ said Lady Godolphin, ‘is Mr Harrison who is a friend of your sister Daphne, Mrs Garfield, that is.’ Lady Godolphin effected the introductions and Mr Harrison made Frederica a clumsy bow. ‘I would be honoured, Miss Armitage,’ he said, ‘if you would partner me in this next quadrille.’

  Frederica’s large eyes sparkled with pleasure and she half rose from her seat, but sat down again abruptly as the duke said coldly, ‘Apologies, Mr Harrison. The next dance is promised to me.’

  Society watched avidly as Mr Harrison bowed again and walked away.

  ‘You do not have to dance with me, your grace,’ said Frederica. ‘Mr Harrison would have done very well.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ he said, rising and holding out his arm, ‘I wish to dance with you myself.’

  Fans fluttered. Eyebrows and quizzing glasses were raised. ‘It is just not fair,’ said one debutante to another. ‘Those wretched Armitage girls! I wonder what Lady James will say when she hears of this.’

  ‘Who is this Lady James?’ asked her friend.

  ‘You mean you have not heard the on dits?’ Heads bent close together and tongues wagged.

  Lady Godolphin sat with the dowagers and fanned herself complacently. How little Frederica could dance! Why, the girl was a different person when she danced. What a triumph! If Frederica became a duchess, the Armitage girls, already more famous than the Gurneys, would go down in history.

  The elderly Dowager Marchioness of Blessop nudged Lady Godolphin with her elbow. ‘Don’t see Colonel Brian here tonight. I would have thought your affianced would have escorted you.’

  ‘My fiasco has a great many affairs to attend to,’ said Lady Godolphin with great hauteur.

  ‘So I have heard,’ cackled the old marchioness. ‘And it ain’t any use you getting your hopes up about Pembury. Cold fish, that man is.’

  ‘You are a jealous old cat,’ said Lady Godolphin. ‘And if you don’t stow your gab, I’ll stuff my reticule right down your scrawny neck.’

  Having silenced her companion, Lady Godolphin settled down to watch little Frederica’s triumph.

  The duke was a leader of fashion. He was a first class sportsman and a notable whip. He belonged neither to the Dandy set nor the Corinthians. Although many members of the demi-monde had found brief favour with him, he had never paid court to any respectable lady, and never before this evening had he singled out any debutante as he had singled out Frederica.

  He was enchanted by her dancing and by her youthful manner which was free from missish airs. He had a sudden longing to see her always sparkling and happy the way she now was. He did not want to see her become the crushed and silent Frederica of the house party.

  Before the dance was over, Lady Godolphin waddled to her feet to circulate the ballroom and brag quite disgracefully over the size of Frederica’s dowry.

  By the time the Duke of Pembury led Frederica back to her chair, there was already a large crowd of male admirers waiting to lead her in the next dance.

  The Duke of Pembury then proceeded to make it quite plain that he had little interest in any other lady at the assembly. He promptly took his leave.

  Despite the fact she was enjoying her newfound social success immensely, Frederica could not help feeling the evening had gone a trifle flat, but she would not admit to herself that the Duke of Pembury’s leaving had anything to do with it.

  SEVEN

  Guy Wentwater called on Lady James two days after the opening ball at Almack’s. He no longer entertained any hopes of using her to hurt the Armitages, but he was at loose ends and found Lady James amusing.

  Sir Edwin Armitage had sent him an angry letter, saying that if he approached the Hall to try to see Emily again, he would be shot by the gamekeepers as a poacher. The Reverend Charles Armitage had also written to inform Mr Wentwater that his presence in Hopeworth would, in future, be even more unwelcome than it had been hithertofore. The vicar added that it would give him infinite pleasure to horsewhip Mr Wentwater should he dare show his nose near the vicarage again.

  Since Guy Wentwater did not move in very high circles, he had not heard of Frederica’s triumph at the ball, but Lady James most certainly had.

  She flew at Guy Wentwater the minute he was ushered in and poured into his willing ears all the gossip she had heard. By now, Lady James had convinced herself that the Duke of Pembury would have married her if only this wretched Armitage girl had not appeared on the scene.

  ‘It is of no use me trying to lure the girl away,’ said Mr Wentwater. ‘The Armitage sisters will have warned her against me. There must be some way to get at her. Is there anyone of whom she is particularly fond?’

  ‘Let me think.’ Lady James strode up and down, the silk of her gown making a swishing noise. ‘Lady Godolphin?’ she said, coming to a halt.

  Mr Wentwater shuddered. ‘That horrible old woman would eat us for breakfast. Did Miss Frederica show no evidence of having any school friends?’

  ‘I was not intimate with the chit,’ snapped Lady James. ‘You must remember when I first met her she was emptying chamber pots. She has the soul of a servant. The minute she was unmasked and hoisted back up into the ranks of the ton, her only desire was to have her fellow chambermaid elevated to the rank of lady’s maid.’

  ‘Ah, I might do something in that direction,’ drawled Guy Wentwater. ‘Abduct the maid and the mistress will follow.’

  ‘I do not know what I can do to help,’ said Lady James fretfully. ‘My name must be kept out of any plot.’

  ‘You must befriend the Armitage chit, find out her movements and get me a description of the maid. I will do the rest. You must hint to Pembury that her taste runs to servants and that Miss Frederica is said to be enamoured of some footman.

  ‘If necessary I can produce said footman. We must give Pembury a disgust of the girl for long enough to allow you to do your work – unless, of course, you are over-rating your charms. He may not want you, no matter what happens to Miss Armitage.’

  But Lady James’s vanity would not allow her to believe that the duke had not one scrap of feeling left for her.

  ‘Do not be insulting,’ she said coldly. ‘Get rid of Frederica Armitage and leave the rest to me.’

  Lady James would have been very surprised if she could have known that the entire Armitage family were determined that Frederica should have nothing to do with the Duke of Pembury. All the sisters had heard of Frederica’s evening at Almack’s and all were convinced that the duke had been merely amusing himself, but that little Frederica was in danger of losing her heart and spoiling her Season. Deirdre had finally convinced Lady Godolphin of the folly of even thinking of the duke as a possible suitor. The other sisters had also written to her ladyship on the matter. Diana had called on Frederica the day after the ball, prior to journeying to Hopeworth, and had been alarmed by the distinctly dreamy look in her little sister’s eyes.

  But Frederica had aroused herself from her dreams enough to give Diana the full story of Sarah Millet, and so it was a very worried Diana who approached the vicarage.

  The vicar was at first delighted to see his fox-hunting daughter and was prepared to take her on a tour of the kennels, but his face fell when Diana delivered herself of a long lecture on his morals.

  ‘But Pettifor’s going to marry Sarah,’ said the vicar, ‘so it ain’t no use you going on like a jaw-me-dead.’

  ‘Worse and worse,’ said Diana severely. ‘You constrain that poor man …’

  ‘I didn’t constrain him,’ howled the exasperated vicar. ‘He’s smelling o’ April and May. Can’t keep his eyes off the girl. Wants an early marriage.’

  ‘Mr Pettifor!’

  ‘Yes, that long drip o’ nothing has blossomed. Got a house out o’ me and demanded a mort o’ money.’

  ‘Amazing. Where is Sarah?’

  ‘Well, Jimmy Radford said it waren’t fitting for her to stay here, so she’s lodged with Miss Hamworthy in the village until the wedding, and I’ve had
to pay that old biddy for the housing of her.’

  ‘A small price to pay for having got off marrying the girl yourself,’ said Diana dryly.

  The vicar raised his eyes to heaven. ‘The Lord has forgiven me,’ he said piously. ‘“Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more.” St John, chapter eight …’

  ‘Oh, Papa. What does Sarah think of all this?’

  ‘Like a dog with two tails. Strutting around the village, bragging ’bout how she’s going to be Mrs Pettifor.’

  ‘The problem does seem to have been resolved,’ said Diana doubtfully. ‘But trouble of another kind has arisen. Frederica’s adventures with the Duke of Pembury have not finished. At her first ball, the duke sat for quite half an hour talking to her, then he danced with her, and then he left, making it quite clear he did not favour any other lady in the room. He was merely amusing himself, but I am afraid little Frederica has taken his attentions seriously. The duke must be dissuaded from paying her any further attention, or we will never get her married. I asked Dantrey to have a word with him, but he merely yawned and said he was much too lazy and for his part he always thought Frederica was a taking little thing. Men! They do stick together.’

  ‘Ever consider Pembury might have a tendre for her?’

  ‘Pembury? Nonsense. You have only to look at the man. You have met him. He recently had an affair with Lady James, a mature and voluptuous blonde. He is not going to change his exotic tastes and fall in love with a little girl like Frederica. It is your duty, Papa, to write to Lady Godolphin and tell her to make sure Frederica meets as many suitable young men as possible. We are all doing our best. Deirdre sees Frederica almost every day.’

  ‘If you’re so anxious, why don’t you stay in London and keep an eye on her?’ grumbled Mr Armitage.

  ‘I must return to Dantrey. He … misses me.’ Diana’s dark eyes lit up and her whole face seemed to glow.

  ‘You can’t leave here so soon,’ said the vicar. ‘Break your journey for a night.’

  But Diana refused to stay.

  Before she left Hopeworth, she called on Sarah, and found, to her relief, the maid was much as her father described her. Sarah was already playing the part of the respectable matron and enjoying herself immensely. Mr Pettifor called while Diana was visiting Sarah, and, although he was obviously head over heels in love with the girl, he had also become rather pompous and sanctimonious.

  As her carriage finally bore her homewards, Diana resolved to write to Frederica as soon as she arrived. Frederica must know as quickly as possible that the problem of Sarah had finally been resolved.

  Contrary to her sisters’ fears, Frederica did not think about the Duke of Pembury very much and, like them, was convinced his interest in her at Almack’s was based on some fleeting whim.

  Unlike her other admirers, he had not called on her the day after the ball, but had sent his servant instead with his card and a bouquet of flowers.

  Frederica did not, however, know that he had called two days later, but Lady Godolphin did, and had informed Mice, her butler, to say Miss Armitage was ‘not at home’.

  The duke accepted the message and was strolling across Hanover Square when he happened for some reason to turn round and look back at the house. He was very surprised to see Frederica at an upstairs window, looking dreamily down into the square. He raised his hand in a salute, but she did not see him.

  He walked on his way, puzzled. Never before had he received such a rebuff. People were not in the habit of turning rich and eligible dukes away. After some thought, he decided Lady Godolphin had made a mistake. He let two more days go by and called again. Again he received the same message. He walked away and leaned against the railings of the square. After about ten minutes, a carriage drove up and Lady James alighted. His eyebrows rose in surprise. Lady James, obviously receiving the same rebuff, drove off again. He waited patiently.

  Five minutes later, the door opened and Frederica and Lady Godolphin emerged, got into Lady Godolphin’s carriage and drove off.

  After some thought, he decided to call on his former mistress and find what she was about.

  Lady James had just arrived home when he walked up to her home in Curzon Street. She gave him a rapturous welcome. She was looking very beautiful, melting and feminine, and he almost forgot about the ugliness of her character which had only shown through in the latter days of their affair.

  After she had fussed over him, plumped cushions behind his back and poured him wine, she proceeded to regale him with the latest gossip. Lord Lascelle’s son, Edward, had actually up and married Harriet Wilson’s sister. Harriet Wilson was a famous courtesan. Everyone was afraid that Sam Whitbread meant to marry that woman who was living with him. Prinny had let down his belly and wore corsets no more. The old king was dying. Murray, the bookseller, had returned Lord Byron’s latest poem to Venice and said he was afraid of publishing it.

  ‘And,’ interrupted the duke, ‘Lady James has been seen trying to call on Miss Armitage.’

  ‘How people gossip.’ Lady James laughed. ‘I was merely calling to see how she fared. As a matter of fact, it was because I heard some rather disquieting gossip. It is said she has formed a tendre for some footman. Not in your household, I trust.’

  ‘Fustian.’ His face had gone hard and set.

  ‘Just what I said,’ she said quickly. ‘I mean, even if she took a post as a servant it does not go …’

  ‘Exactly,’ said the duke. ‘I am sure you are too wise, ma’am, to broadcast such a piece of scurrilous gossip yourself. No lady likes to be accused of jealousy.’

  ‘I? Jealous! You are funning.’

  He rose to his feet and looked down at her curiously, wondering what he had ever seen in her.

  ‘Good day to you,’ he said, turning on his heel.

  Lady James made a move as if to run after him, but quickly restrained herself. She would need to be patient and wait – and hope that Guy Wentwater could effect the ruin of Frederica Armitage’s reputation.

  * * *

  Guy Wentwater had not been idle. He had been frequenting the taverns and coffee houses favoured by the servants of the ton. He was searching for a good-looking footman who liked gambling too much. After a week of searching, he struck gold. His prey was William Richards, second footman in Lord Cooper’s town house in Mayfair. Richards was a tall, engaging young man, handsome in his pink and silver livery. Introducing himself as a Mr Jackson, Guy Wentwater soon became on friendly terms with the footman. Their friendship proceeded rapidly through several bottles of wine to several games of hazard. The unfortunate Richards did not know that the dice were literally loaded against him, and found with a sobering shock that he owed his newfound friend one hundred guineas – a sum it would take him several years to pay back.

  Embarrassed and miserable, he stammered out a plea for time to pay.

  Guy Wentwater leaned back in his chair and smiled lovingly on the blushing footman. ‘I could forget about your debt, my boy,’ he said, ‘if you would but render me a trifling service.’

  ‘Anything,’ babbled the unfortunate Richards.

  ‘Then lean your head close to mine for I do not wish to be overheard. Good. This then is what you must do …’

  Perhaps the Duke of Pembury might never have been able to call on Frederica had Lady Godolphin resumed amicable relations with Colonel Brian. But when there appeared to be no sign of a reconciliation on the horizon, Lady Godolphin decided that drastic measures must be taken to restore her beauty.

  Firstly, Martha, her lady’s maid, was told to prepare a ‘cosmetic bath’. Baths were usually medicinal or cosmetic. No one really bothered taking them for simple dreary reasons of cleanliness. Lady Godolphin’s bath was to consist of two pounds of barley meal, eight pounds of bran, and a quantity of borage leaves boiled up in spring water.

  Secondly, Mary was despatched to the City in a hack to fetch a tincture for the teeth from Greenough’s apothecary shop near St Sepulchre’s, Lady Godolphin claimin
g that her usual home-made mixture of the ashes of nettles, tobacco and honey was doing nothing to whiten her remaining teeth. Greenough’s tinctures claimed not only to keep the teeth white but to ‘perfectly cure the scurvy of the gums, fasten and preserve the teeth, render them white and beautiful, and prevent them decaying and keep such as are decayed from becoming worse’.

  So it was when the Duke of Pembury called again that Lady Godolphin was lying abovestairs in a bath which looked like porridge. Mice had not been given instructions to refuse the duke admittance. On the previous two occasions Lady Godolphin had been told of the duke’s arrival and had sent Mice back with the ‘not home’ message. But Lady Godolphin quite often told callers she was not at home because she simply could not be bothered entertaining them.

  Mice therefore informed Frederica of the duke’s arrival and Frederica promptly told Mice to show the duke into the drawing room.

  Since Frederica had not thought too much about the Duke of Pembury during the past days, she was not prepared for her own odd reaction at the sight of him. Her breathing became rapid and she could hardly bring herself to look at him. She had been escorted here and there by various admirers and not one of them had caused her to feel any social unease.

  The fickle spring weather had turned chilly and the duke was wearing a long black wool cloak lined with red silk and fastened with gold frogs. His calfskin boots, polished to a mirror shine, were worn over tight pantaloons of drab kerseymere. The femininity of his ruffled shirt emphasized the rather harsh masculinity of his face.

  The duke was relieved to find Miss Armitage looking much the way she had done at Hatton Abbey. The sea nymph of the ball had disappeared. Her half-dress was of silk, and very fashionable, being intricately plated on the bosom and falling to four deep flounces at the hem. But the pale violet colour of the gown did not flatter Frederica.