by Liz Botts
“Is this…?” My voice trailed away as fear formed a ball in my throat. I couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t swallow. Mrs. Saunders patted my arm as if she knew what was going on inside of me, though after all the weeks we had spent together, I supposed she did know me better than most. She and Graham.
I stepped down into the damp air. A fine mist settled on my bare arms. I wished I had accepted Mrs. Saunders’s offer to take one of her shawls. Wrapping myself up, disappearing into a cloud of fabric protection, appealed to me more than I could say at that moment. Besides that, I had not counted on London being so chilly in mid-August. I rubbed my arms to warm myself. The footman carried my parcel, and Mrs. Saunders took my elbow. The three of us headed up the short stone walk. To steady myself, I wrapped my hand around the wrought iron rail beside the steps. The cold seeped to my bones.
Mrs. Saunders turned businesslike, rapping smartly on the door before giving me a quick once-over. She reached out to smooth an errant hair back into my low bun. Why hadn’t my appearance even entered my mind? There had been a small mirror in our cabin on the ship; if I had thought about it I could have checked… well, no matter, I decided. My stomach knotted as I waited for the door to open.
The door creaked on its hinges, and we were greeted by a somber looking butler in a smart black suit. He bowed for us to come in. “Who may I say is calling?”
“Lady Felicity has arrived from the colonies. She seeks her grandparents.” Mrs. Saunders spoke in a nervous halting tone that I didn’t recognize.
The butler merely nodded. “Wait here.”
While we waited, I fidgeted with the fabric of my skirt. The lengthy sea trip had turned the thick cotton threadbare. I looked like a poor relation, though I supposed that’s exactly what I was. In those long moments in the entryway to my grandparents’ home, I wondered what they would think of me when they first saw me. How had Mama described me in her letters? That thought brought a fresh wave of fear that perhaps Father’s letter had not arrived. How could I break the news that their daughter had died? Grief choked me, and I turned my head toward the wall in an effort to compose myself.
A door opened and an elegant older woman emerged. She wore a dark blue dress with a high waist. Her white hair was piled high on her head, and tiny fasteners studded with pearls peaked out from beneath the bun. I forced myself to look into her eyes, which were shiny as she gazed at me. A moment later she had crossed the space between us.
“Felicity.” She spoke my name softly as she enveloped me in a hug, and in that instant I knew she had indeed received Father’s letter. Her arms gave me strength, and at the same time welcomed me with tenderness. I leaned my head against my grandmother’s shoulder and wept for the first time in months.
After several long moments, I felt an internal tugging that allowed me to swallow the rest of my tears, straighten up, and wipe my eyes. I realized in a flash of understanding that all those months of worry about my grandparents and whether they would accept me was for naught. These people were my mother’s parents. They had loved her with all their being, had loved her enough to let her marry a man of her choosing and sail off for an unknown world despite all the dangers that lurked. They had loved her enough to continue to write as often as they could. Of course they loved me.
I drew a shuddering breath as I offered my grandmother a weak smile. She gave me a fragile one in return. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the heavy thump of footsteps drew our attention. A man I could only assume was my grandfather emerged from another part of the house. He had gray hair and the bushiest eyebrows I had ever seen. His blue eyes, though, mesmerized me. They looked identical to Mama’s, right down to the glint in them as the corners of his mouth curved into a smile.
“You are even lovelier than I had imagined,” he said as he placed his hands on my shoulders and examined me. “You are the very image of your mother.”
“She had your eyes,” I replied softly, giving him a shy smile as I spoke.
My grandfather and I gazed at each other a moment longer, then my grandmother took my hand again. “We only just received your father’s letter a fortnight ago. As you can imagine, the shock of his news has not yet sunk in, but we are overjoyed to have you here.”
“Well, I’m off, then, dearie. It seems as if everything is right as rain here.” Mrs. Saunders’s voice startled me. My first meeting with my grandparents had gone better than I could ever have imagined. Yet the prospect of being separated from my guardian of the past two months felt like opening a wound. The grief of Mama had resurfaced and losing both Graham and Mrs. Saunders seemed almost too much to bear. Tears blurred my vision as I rushed to hug her.
“Thank you for everything. I would not have survived the trip without you.” I whispered the words.
Mrs. Saunders squeezed me tight before she patted my cheek with her plump hand. “You’ll do just fine, dearie. These grandparents of yours will take good care of you.”
I nodded, sniffing back the tears so they wouldn’t spill down my face. Too much crying for such a short span of time. Mama would have wanted this reunion to be joyous. Why did so much of life have to be bittersweet?
“We’ll meet again,” Mrs. Saunders said, though I knew the promise was empty. Now that I was with my grandparents, my life would exist in a different realm than anything I could imagine.
Then she was gone, and I was alone with my grandparents, who, though they made me feel welcome, were still strangers. As the household footman stooped to pick up my things, my grandfather sent him an admonishing look, but my grandmother stopped him with a hand laid gently on his arm. She turned to me with a puzzled expression on her face.
“Where are the rest of your things? Dear, stop the carriage. Felicity’s trunk must be on there still.” I could feel myself flush as she looked around, puzzled.
“N-no. This is all I have. There is no trunk.” I mumbled the words as I could feel my face heat up further, though I wasn’t quite sure exactly what I was embarrassed about. Swallowing, I added, “These are some of the things — Mama’s things — I managed to save from the cabin.”
“Of course,” my grandmother said. “How silly of me. I took it upon myself to commission a few things for you after we received your father’s letter, so there are some day dresses hanging in your wardrobe. They’ll have to be taken in, though. We will have to get some food into you, my dear. You are far too thin. Your mother would never have approved.”
Despite the no-nonsense approach of her words, I could hear the affection under them. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and began to guide me deeper into the house.
“Let me show you around. This is our town house. After the Season your grandfather will be off on his hunting, and then we’ll all retire to the country house for Christmas. Oh, darling, I cannot wait to show you off. It’s too bad we only have a short time for that. We shall make the best of it, though. Come.”
And just like that, she drew me into my new life. All my fears evaporated as we toured the house, ending with my bedroom. As I sank onto my bed, my head spun with the newness of it all. I only hoped I could keep up.
Chapter Eleven
“You look just like your mother.”
My grandmother’s smile stretched across her face as she studied the seamstress’ handiwork. I ran my hands over the silky pale yellow fabric. The empire-waisted dress cinched slightly, but my grandmother had assured me I was the height of fashion. After staring at Mrs. Saunders’s Lady’s Magazine for the past few months, I knew she was right. I found the concept of fashion puzzling. Mama had taught me to sew my own clothes as soon as I could handle a needle, though my first bumbling attempts required her correction to actually be wearable.
The sudden flash of memory made me smile. For some reason, I found it easier to remember happy things while here at my grandparents’ house. The seamstress gave one final tug on her thread, and my grandmother gently turned me toward the mirror.
“Now, we’ll pull your hair
up like this.” Grandmother paused as she demonstrated the hairstyle. “What do you think?”
“I think — I don’t even recognize myself,” I said with a shaky laugh.
Grandmother laughed along with me. She had lightened up over the past two weeks. Right after I arrived, she’d had a cloud of grief hanging over her. Every time she’d looked at me or spoken to me, her eyes had welled up with tears. Her voice had quavered when she’d asked me questions. But slowly, as I’d spoken of my life growing up, told her things about our home that Mama had never mentioned in her letters, and regaled both her and Grandfather with the funny exploits of James, she’d seemed to change. The sadness we all felt never left, in fact, for me it always simmered just below the surface, but we were able to enjoy the fact that we were all together. In brief moments, I even allowed myself to believe that Father had found James, and the two of them would soon join us.
“Your first ball. Oh, how I wish your mother could see you.” The wistfulness on Grandmother’s face made my throat close momentarily. Then I pressed a smile to my lips, because I could imagine Mama’s reaction.
“She’d tell me that I look beautiful,” I said. “Grandmother, I am so nervous. I really have no idea how to behave at all.”
Grandmother made a dismissive noise and waved her hand in the air. “You have lovely manners, my dear. You shall be fine.”
I turned to examine the back of the dress. “Mama had a book of manners that she insisted James and I learn, but it certainly didn’t contain any advice for how to act at a ball.”
“Your grandfather and I will be there to support you. All you have to do is be your charming self, and you’ll have friends and suitors lined up for miles.” Grandmother smoothed my hair as it fell along my back.
With a nod, I continued to examine myself. “I think I’ll take a nap before it is time to get ready.”
After helping me out of the ball gown, Grandmother left me to my own devices. She and Grandfather had allowed me to rest when I wanted, to have as much time alone as I required. They were careful not to overwhelm me, but after a fortnight I knew they were anxious to show me off to their society friends.
I lay down on my bed in my linen shift. The lightweight fabric felt lovely on my suddenly flushed skin. Though the day was hot, I knew my current warmth had more to do with nerves than anything else. From what I had gathered, the ball that evening would be the largest of the Season. My maid had assured me that everyone who was anyone would be there. My breath caught and my heart skittered out of rhythm at that thought. Graham might attend. I knew he was well respected in London society. Actually the way Grandfather spoke of him, I knew he was more than respected.
A warm breeze stirred the curtains at the window. I closed my eyes and conjured a memory of Graham on the deck of the ship. Grandmother had assured me there were still a few weeks of good weather, though the cold would soon move in. Despite her assurances, all I had experienced so far was gray clouds and misting rain. I was pleased with the current warmth, and Grandmother had smiled smugly as the sunshine had streamed through the windows during breakfast.
The knock on the door drew me from my Graham daydream, but I did not rise from the bed. Sometimes I could not believe the luxury that surrounded me.
“May I come in, my dear?” Grandmother’s face appeared around the edge of my door.
I lifted myself into a sitting position and gave her a smile. The flood of emotions that came with thinking about Graham must have been evident on my face, because Grandmother immediately opened her arms to engulf me in a hug. The physical affection I received from her was delightful. She reminded me so much of Mama that I ached, but I was also comforted each time she was near.
“What’s wrong, darling girl?” She stroked my hair as I drew a shuddering breath.
“N-nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking about people I have lost in the past few months.”
“You mustn’t dwell on that. Dark thoughts will bring you nothing but darkness and sadness. We must celebrate the joy those people brought to our lives and never forget them. That is the best we can do. Besides, it won’t do for you to be melancholy at your first ball.”
I sighed. “No, it won’t do. Though I don’t know what I will do with myself at a ball. I’m afraid I will stick out like a sore thumb.”
Grandmother laughed, and for a moment I sat transfixed by the sound. It reminded me of church bells chiming after a wedding. The pure joy in her voice made tears spring to my eyes. I could not remember the last time I had heard someone sound like that. Surely it had been Mama, but when? The horror of our last day scarred the memory of happiness with my family.
“You will be the belle of the ball, my darling. Just you wait and see; before the night is over, you will have suitors breaking down our door to court you.”
She left me to get ready, and I sank back onto my bed to think about what she had said. As far as I could understand, the whole point of attending balls and other society functions was to snag a husband. Preferably a rich husband with a title. Grandmother and Grandfather had assured me I had a say in who I married, especially since Father was not present. That was the law, as they said. I suspected, though, that if the man did not meet their approval, no matter how I felt about him, he would be sent away faster than a hawk could catch a mouse.
Deep down, I knew my grandparents did not want the past to repeat itself. Mama had met Father at a society function, and he had seemed to be the ideal match for her, given his title and inherited land. But then he had taken off to a foreign land to serve the navy. Since Mama’s sense of adventure had won out over my grandparents’ pleas to stay, I could see why they would not want me to follow the same path. Just look how that had ended for Mama.
Still… I shoved my thoughts aside and climbed restlessly from the bed to pace the floor. That activity distracted me nicely, as I could focus on the change in texture beneath my feet. One, two, three, four steps on a soft Persian carpet. One, two, three, four steps on the smooth bare wood floor. I could make a bigger loop around the room should I choose to do so, but this was my preferred path.
The mere fact that Graham might be at the ball that evening made my heart beat out of rhythm. I felt alternately lead-footed or light-headed. Would he dance with me? Had he missed me as much as I’d missed him? The questions pressed on my chest as I paced. Once or twice I had mentioned Graham to my grandparents, and they had been quite enthusiastic about him, but did that mean they would consider him a suitable mate?
I sighed and picked up the dress I was to wear for the evening. A moment later my lady’s maid knocked lightly on the door, peering around the crack. “Lady Felicity? Are you ready for me to do your hair for the ball?”
****
As the carriage approached Almack’s, the social hall where the ball would be held, I felt as if I might be sick. The knots in my stomach made me bend forward slightly, and I kept my gloved hands pressed to my face. I felt flushed at the same time chills swept my body. The closest I could come to describing the feeling was when I had been ill with measles as a child.
“You will do fine, darling,” Grandmother said softly as she patted my hand, drawing it gently away from my face.
“I don’t see why I need to be at this infernal place again.” Grandfather thumped his cane on the carriage floor and blustered through his bristly white mustache.
Grandmother patted him, as well. “You can have a tête-à-tête with the men, just as you always do. Smoke some good cigars, and you’ll feel quite right with the world.”
Despite my nervousness, I had to smile as Grandfather crossed his arms and sat back against the seat in a pout. He reminded me of a sullen child. The look on Grandmother’s face made me think that they had this conversation often. I wondered who they had sponsored in the past. She had mentioned something about helping girls whose families were down on their luck, so I supposed that was what all the society people would think of me to begin with. Why did the thought of a bad first impr
ession bother me so much? Never before in my life had I given such a thing a single thought. At that moment it was all I could think about, though. And what if Graham should be in attendance? All the variables of the situation made me even more jittery.
“Madam.” The footman opened the carriage door and offered Grandmother his hand. He waited while Grandfather lumbered out of the small space before helping me out. With a smart bow, he climbed back into the tiger’s seat.
I heard a roar in my ears that reminded me of the ocean during a storm. As we entered the hall, music from a lively reel swirled around us. Ladies and gentlemen danced in time, smiling all the while. On first glance everything seemed lovely, but as my gaze drifted over the scene again, I realized how many other things were going on. Girls my own age stood in bunches around the edge of the large ballroom, heads bent together, eyes darting about surreptitiously. I had no doubt they were sizing up their competition, especially since they were sitting out the dance.
When we were announced, I could feel all eyes in the room trained on me. I kept my gaze downcast as I followed Grandmother around the space to greet one of the patronesses of the evening. Grandfather had already disappeared. A waltz began. I was surprised I recognized the music, but then I supposed I shouldn’t have been, since Grandmother had been tutoring me for weeks.
“My dear girl, your grandmother has been alight with joy since you arrived. Ah, I remember your mother at this age, God rest her soul. I hope you have a marvelous time tonight.” The old woman must have been very pretty in her prime, because she still carried an air of nobility. Her face had a regal tilt, and her blue eyes crinkled when she smiled. Her white hair was swept back and hidden by a lace cap pinned in place with pearls. Heat crept onto my cheeks as I realized I had missed Grandmother’s introduction.
I curtsied, pasted a smile on my face, and said, “Thank you, ma’am, I look forward to the evening, and to making your acquaintance again.”
