by Jennifer Joy
“When you have time to sort your thoughts, I believe you will draw the right conclusion. I have faith that you will make this right with your niece. She is up to something and you could help her. I feel it in my soul.”
Luc bowed and followed Adélaïde out the front door.
Adélaïde marched beside him toward their home. Luc knew that now was not the time for conversation and wisely let her be.
Luc could not understand, much less explain to someone else, why he felt the need to help Miss de Bourgh. He had spoken with her only a few minutes and he hardly knew anything about her outside of his own observations earlier that day. She just appeared so… vulnerable. If no one else will, I will protect her from harm. What is her business in town anyway? What is Miss de Bourgh up to?
She was a mystery and he determined to play the detective.
Chapter 12
Anne watched the people they passed. She studied the dresses and bonnets the ladies wore. She tried to look at their hair without staring. She peeked in the windows of the shops and smiled at the children walking by. Colors were vibrant, the breeze was soft, and Anne’s prospects were much improved. If it would not have caused a scene, she would have walked with her arms outstretched, reveling in the freedom and the open air.
All too soon, they arrived at Adélaïde’s dress shop. Anne felt the ball of nerves tighten in her stomach, but paid it no heed. I am getting good at this, she thought as they entered the shop. What would have sent her to bed only a week and a half ago was now giving way to prickles of excitement as Anne explored life in town as she had never done before.
Adélaïde greeted them with a smile. “I had hoped you would return. Miss de Bourgh, it is so kind of you to lend me your personal maid.” She turned to Nancy. “Now, your work is neat and amongst the best I have seen. I pay a fair wage to my seamstresses and, as their teacher, I will offer you more to provide my girls with instruction and guidance. You see, I have more work than I have able hands to help me do, and I cannot take the time I would like to properly train every girl as I would like. That is where you will come in, I hope.” She looked expectantly at Nancy.
Anne was overjoyed at the opportunity before Nancy and had to clasp her hands together to keep from clapping.
“When may I start?” was Nancy’s reply.
“Tomorrow morning, should you wish.”
As Anne listened to the two women make arrangements, she went over their new schedule in her mind.
She and Nancy could leave together in the morning to go to Mr. Carriera’s shop to join his art class. From there, it was an easy walk for Nancy to the dress shop. If it was no inconvenience to Millie, perhaps Anne could arrange for her carriage to take her home in time for lunch. While Nancy worked until the early evening, Anne would make an effort to accompany Millie so that she might meet more people who may have known her father. If not, she held high hopes of sketching and painting some of them. It would be busy and so different from her normal day. Anne was pleased with the change.
A smooth, accented voice behind her said, “Good afternoon, Miss de Bourgh.”
Anne jumped in place and turned around. So deep was her concentration, she had not heard the bell announcing anyone’s entry into the shop.
“I startled you. My deepest apologies, Mademoiselle.” Mr. Mauvier swept off his hat and swooped an elegant bow, never breaking eye contact with Anne.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mauvier. Please do not worry yourself. I was so distracted, I did not hear you enter.”
“Distracted? Pray tell, what brings a lovely lady such as yourself to distraction?” His crooked grin and close proximity weakened Anne’s knees.
Anne’s face felt hot and she wished she had a fan. You, Monsieur, are a distraction! Both wary of, and drawn to this man, Anne crossed her arms to create a protective shield. Then, the rascal winked.
Righteous indignation boiled up inside Anne. “Mr. Mauvier, your behavior toward me is offensive and I thank you to control yourself— if indeed you are a gentleman.”
Silence consumed the room. It was so noticeable, Anne looked about her. Nancy and Adélaïde stared at them, mouths open and eyes wide. Never in her entire life had Anne scolded anyone, but he had deserved it and she refused to repent. She was a lady, after all. Maybe, she should not have spoken so loudly… Her firm resolve began crumbling down around her and she started to doubt herself until she saw Adélaïde slap her hand over her mouth to restrain the laughter she could not hide. What Anne did not expect was for Mr. Mauvier to join in the merriment.
Looking at him, Anne tried to figure out the man next to her. Most men would have been offended by her rebuke, yet he took it in good humor.
“You have effectively and— I must add— rightfully put me in my place, Mademoiselle.” He took a step back and clasped his hands together. He reminded Anne of a repentant little boy. A troublesome little boy.
Mr. Mauvier took away her insecurity with his apology. However, she feared that extending any crumb of forgiveness would only embolden him, so she said nothing. He was much too forward for Anne’s taste.
He behaved as a perfect gentleman for the remainder of their stay in his sister’s shop. When it was time to depart, he held the door open and offered to walk with them— an offer which Anne refused.
On their way home, Anne and Nancy discussed how their roles would change. Not a word was mentioned of Mr. Mauvier. That suited Anne just fine. She had a difficult time concentrating when he was around and she had matters to discuss with Nancy. Anne was concerned Nancy would overwork herself and insisted that she could help by taking on more responsibilities. Nancy objected, just as Anne suspected she would. Still, Anne considered, she was entirely capable of laying out her own clothes and brushing her own hair… amongst the many other things Nancy did as her maid. She did not want her friend to tire out on her account.
Dinner with the Hepplewhites that evening was boisterous and full of cheer. Mr. Hepplewhite had heard some good news about an investment he had made. That was good news for Mrs. Hepplewhite, who was glad to hear that she would be able to make a more sizable donation to the orphanage she had visited earlier that day. Mr. Hepplewhite was all the happier to help in his wife’s cause. Anne watched the couple’s exchanges and how one’s delight increased the joy in the other. It was pleasant to observe, and Anne let her spirits be lifted with their company.
“Enough about us. What of your day, Anne? Did you meet with Mr. Carriera?” asked Millie, her face flushed with excitement.
“I did. After looking at my drawings, he offered to teach me. He thinks I have talent, but am not yet ready to paint miniatures adequately.”
“Oh, well the ladies will just have to wait then. How wonderful to study with such an accomplished master. You must be very excited.”
“I am. In fact, I was hoping that I might accompany you to some of your meetings so that I may meet some of these ladies of whom you speak. I can practice my sketches in the evenings and my progress will quicken.”
“That is a lovely idea. Now that you are well, I would love nothing more than to show you around town. You may enjoy helping others so much, you decide to join some of our committees. You have a kind nature.”
The desire was present, but Anne doubted she would be of much help to anyone else. She could hardly take care of herself. However, she reminded herself that she was learning and maybe the day would come when she could be more useful. “I would like that very much.”
Feeling better than ever, Anne returned to her room. The first thing she saw as she entered was the unread letter from her mother. The excitement of the day had put it completely out of her mind.
Grabbing the letter, she plunked down on the sofa to read.
March 14, 1812
Rosings
Dear Anne,
By the time this letter reaches you, you will have been in London for over a week. What you have determined to do is doomed to failure and I suspect you know it by now. I will arrange for my
coach to pick you up so you may return home to me where you belong.
I am disappointed that you did not write me with your address. You have no idea how inconvenient it was to find out where to send this letter. I had assumed you would stay at our house on Grosvenor Square. A more agreeable child would have at least written their mother with an address.
I will send my coach as soon as a few minor repairs are done. Expect it two days hence.
That is all for now. I await your prompt return.
Your mother,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Anne dropped the letter onto her lap. Her heart thundered in her chest. She writes to me as if I were a child. Perhaps I am in many ways, but I do wish to change.
Nancy stood across the room, a worried expression on her face. “Are you well, miss?”
Anne stood up and straightened her posture, her hands still trembling in her upset. Lifting her chin defiantly, she said, “I have never been more determined than now to find Father and prove my worth. Until now, all I have done is lounge about and do… absolutely nothing. That is to change— rather, it has already changed.”
With a smile and a nod, Nancy showed her approval. “Very well, miss. Is there anything else I may help you with?”
Anne squinted her eyes and picked at her fingernails in thought. “Yes, I do believe there is. Here I have had one of the best embroiderers in England under my nose, and yet, I can barely manage to stitch my initials on a handkerchief. Would you teach me? If you are very patient with me, perhaps I might learn.”
Nancy clapped; her face lit up. “Oh, Miss Anne, how I have longed to hear you say such a thing.”
Anne did not realize how nervous she had been until she ripped her newly regrown pinky finger’s nail down to the quick. I must stop picking at my nails. Such an unladylike habit, she chastised herself. If she expected Mr. Mauvier to behave as a proper gentleman, she should rid herself of any unladylike habits too. Although, why she should compare her behavior to his at that moment, Anne did not know. She pushed it aside, willing herself not to allow Mr. Mauvier any more space in her mind than was absolutely necessary.
The next morning, Anne woke early to write a response to Mother, thanking her for her consideration and apologizing for her neglect in providing an address. She refused the offer of the carriage, explaining that her purpose in town had not yet been reached, and that she required more time. She would notify her with any change of address. Anne was beginning to think that Mother’s threats of disinheritance were merely that— threats. Still, she would not put Mother to the test and she would not accept any help from her in case she would use it against Anne.
She hurried to get dressed and delivered her letter to the butler to be sent.
Mr. Carriera had not mentioned any kind of payment for his instruction, so she slipped some of her precious coins into her reticule. She would at the least have to pay for her own paints, brushes, and ivory. Looking at her armoire, she hoped her remaining dresses would pay enough until she could earn her own money. She did not want to sell her locket.
As Anne envisioned, the next two weeks were a blur of activity. It was overwhelming at the start, but soon Anne developed a routine of painting in the morning, embroidering with Nancy and the girls at Adélaïde’s, making calls with Millie in the afternoon, and attending various functions and meetings in the evening.
There was only one dark cloud hanging over Anne’s head. She was no closer to finding her father than the day she discovered his letter.
Chapter 13
After two weeks of daily visits, Adélaïde showed Anne her work room. She turned to walk into a hallway behind the large counter bursting with buttons, ribbons, and lace, waving for Anne to follow.
A short distance down the hall, they walked into a large room with windows surrounding the walls facing outside. Anne recognized the display window on the other side of a light organdy cloth hung up to give the workers privacy from the sidewalk.
Nancy stood to greet her. “A vast improvement over the dark rooms at Rosings, is it not?”
Anne took in the ambiance of the room. Bright colors and the warm afternoon sun took Anne back to the orchard full of colorful blooms when she was a child. “It is a happy place.” She wondered why Adélaïde had hesitated to show her this place before.
Adélaïde continued, “These are very brave girls, who for one reason or another found themselves penniless, without a home, and abandoned in town. Life is unjust for a young woman in such circumstances. What I offer is honest work in exchange for honest pay and a place to rest their heads. Their rooms are across the hall. It is cramped at times, but it is a dramatic improvement to sleeping outside.”
Anne counted eight ladies of different ages in the room. She noticed how some laughed with Nancy as she walked around to inspect their work. The thinner girls, of whom there were five, were more somber and nervous. Nancy expertly put them at ease, but many glanced toward Anne with distrust in their eyes. Anne thought she understood Adélaïde’s delay in presenting her to the girls now. Anne had difficulty in social situations, but with the constant exposure to society in Millie’s comforting presence, she had learned to improve. These girls still needed protection, and they would distrust anyone new.
Feeling awkward being stared at, Anne picked at her fingers. She wished she could put the wary girls at ease, but she was afraid they might misjudge her. After all, her appearance was so similar to theirs with her sunk-in cheeks, dark circles surrounding her eyes, and bony body.
Wanting to leave where nobody would have to look upon her pitiful figure, Anne turned away. A woman she did not immediately recognize looked intensely back at her. Anne had not recognized her own image. Her appearance had improved in the three weeks since arriving in town. Her cheeks had filled out, she looked rested, and her collarbones did not jut out quite so shockingly. Quickly, she turned away from her reflection. Vanity was a sin and preening in a mirror was the height of vanity. However, such pious thoughts did not prevent Anne from smiling to herself. She did not consider herself beautiful, but she did not look homely any longer.
When she looked back up, a couple of girls met her eyes. Instead of looking away, Anne held her head up and smiled at them. When they responded in like manner, her smile grew. It struck Anne that the girls around her reflected the same attitude she projected. She was nervous and uncertain when she entered the room. They were too. Now, she was relaxed and happy, and they seemed as well. Maybe if I act confident when I am terrified out of my wits, people will not think me such a weakling. It was worth a try.
She stood as tall as she could in her tiny frame, shoulders back, chin up and ready for her next challenge.
“Adélaïde? Adélaïde, are you back there?” called a voice from the front of the shop. Soon the owner of the voice appeared in the hallway. She was an elderly woman, small in stature, carrying a cake which she set on a work table by the door. Her dress was outdated, but clean and pressed. Her eyes were large and a warm chocolate brown. She stopped abruptly when she saw Anne, a startled look on her face.
Anne, too, felt something familiar about the elderly woman. Her inclination was to like her. She smelled like cake and the young ladies in the room welcomed her warmly.
“Ah, you have come. Please, come in and let me introduce you to my new friends. Miss Beatrice—”
“I do not mean to intrude while you are busy, dear,” Miss Beatrice said to Adélaïde. She exchanged a look with Adélaïde that puzzled Anne before turning to her and asking, “Pardon me for interrupting. Now, who is this young lady? Perhaps I know her mother.”
“Miss Beatrice, let me present you to Miss Anne de Bourgh.” Adélaïde enunciated her name so clearly, Anne figured Miss Beatrice was hard of hearing. She did look to be quite elderly.
Anne curtsied and remembered to smile with her chin up. She refused to break eye contact or shrink into herself even as Miss Beatrice inspected her with pursed lips and narrowing eyes.
“W
hat brings you to town, Miss de Bourgh?” she asked.
Anne had memorized her answer by rote, “I am here to widen my acquaintances and improve my health.” Most people thought it odd that she would choose to come to London for the improvement of her health instead of Bath or the coast. But they would nod their head and change the subject. She did not feel Miss Beatrice would accept her normal response.
The elderly woman looked at her askance, narrowing her eyes until they were almost closed.
“I have come to better myself,” Anne added. It was partly the truth.
Miss Beatrice cocked her head to the other side. “Really?… Very interesting. You are not particularly young. Why do you see the need to better yourself at this point in your life?”
The question was too direct for such a new acquaintance, but out of respect for her elders, Anne answered, “I was not happy with myself and saw no need to continue such a course, if I could change it.” She heard the bite in her own words, but it was an honest answer.
She thought Miss Beatrice would ask another question, but fortunately, she did not. Instead, she tapped her cane on the floor a few times and took her leave. Evidently, Cake Lady’s temperament was not as sweet as her sugary aroma. What an unusual woman.
Curtsies and farewells were exchanged and Miss Beatrice left as easily as she had come. Anne watched her form walk past the display window until she was out of sight.
Adélaïde had one of the girls put on the kettle and everyone turned their attention to the delicious cake Miss Beatrice had brought.
Anne asked Adélaïde, “How long have you known Miss Beatrice? She seems like an interesting woman.”
“She is prickly around the edges at times. I am sorry if she made you feel uncomfortable.”
“I am accustomed to prickly. She reminded me of my mother.”
Adélaïde snorted into her tea. “I am sure she would be pleased to know that,” she said sarcastically.
