The Dressmaker’s Secret

by Charlotte Betts

  ‘Beautiful.’ Dolly held out his hand to help me from the chair and his grip was firm and warm as I stepped down. ‘Beautiful,’ he said again, looking straight into my eyes.

  I noticed how long his black eyelashes were but there were little lines of worry etched around his dark blue eyes. He stood so close that his breath fanned my cheek and I smelled his sandalwood cologne. Now that Alessandro didn’t want me, would it be so very dreadful to be married to Dolly? I’d be safe, with a home of my own and, in time, children to love.

  His hand tightened around my fingers. ‘Emilia?’ he whispered.

  ‘Yes, Dolly,’ I said, suddenly calm as the decision was made. ‘Yes, Dolly, I will marry you.’

  ‘Thank God!’ he said. He pulled me tight against his chest and pressed dry lips firmly to mine.

  Chapter 26

  July 1821

  London

  Millicent smiled complacently as the company raised their glasses to the bride and groom.

  ‘She looks like the cat that got the cream, doesn’t she?’ murmured Araminta. ‘As well she might, having secured the second son of an earl. Her grandfather was only a linen-draper, you know.’

  ‘I hope they’ll be happy,’ I said.

  Araminta opened her brown eyes very wide. ‘How could she not be, with his fortune?’

  I sipped my champagne. Happiness was a fleeting emotion. Once I’d accepted his proposal, seven months later Dolly’s declared passion for me appeared to have waned with familiarity. Father, of course, had been delighted when we confirmed our engagement. Almost at once I’d felt as if I were on a runaway wagon careering down a mountainside as he made wedding plans. He decided the ceremony would take place in St Paul’s Cathedral in June. I’d demurred, using the excuse that he’d be occupied working with the committee organising the Coronation. Finally, though I’d have preferred to delay even longer, I’d agreed to the end of August, after the London season finished. Dolly and I were to be married at St Bartholomew’s in Upper Langdon.

  ‘Your wedding next,’ said Araminta, ‘and mine in September.’ She stretched out her hand and smiled at the diamond on her finger. ‘Is your wedding dress finished?’ she asked.

  I avoided thinking about my wedding. ‘Almost,’ I said. ‘Mrs Webbe was inundated with orders for gowns for the Coronation. I had to beg her to fit me in.’ I’d offered to make my wedding dress myself but Father had reeled back in shock. I didn’t tell him but it was only my connection with the Queen that finally persuaded Mrs Webbe to accept the commission.

  ‘All the world is being fitted for outfits for the Coronation at present,’ said Araminta. ‘Oh, look, there’s Anna! Excuse me, I must have a word with her.’ She drifted away.

  I went to find Dolly. He was talking to Francis Gregory, who seemed to appear everywhere we went. It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone with my betrothed but I’d become irritated by Mr Gregory’s high-pitched laughter and pointed remarks.

  ‘Here comes your little shadow, Dolly,’ he said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘I thought the boot quite on the other foot,’ I replied tartly, ‘wherever my fiancé and I go, there you are.’

  Mr Gregory’s naturally pink cheeks glowed just a little brighter than usual. ‘Dolly and I have been friends since our schooldays.’

  ‘And no doubt we’ll still be toddling off to play cards together in our dotage, Francis,’ murmured Dolly.

  ‘I hear you’ve been to visit your future mother-in-law, Miss Langdon,’ said Mr Gregory. ‘Dolly says you were the best of friends by the time the second cup of tea was poured.’

  I glanced at Dolly, who refused to meet my eyes and cleared his throat in that annoying way he did when he was nervous. ‘It was very pleasant to meet her,’ I said. In fact, Mrs Pemberton had such an insipid personality it had been difficult to have any kind of conversation with her.

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ said Mr Gregory. ‘Warfare with your mother-in-law would be so dispiriting, don’t you think?’ His blue eyes were guileless. ‘Especially when she’s going to reside with you.’

  I managed to prevent shock from showing in my face. ‘That isn’t yet decided,’ I said evenly. ‘Dolly, have you told Mr Gregory that Father is giving us the Dower House on the Langdon Estate?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Dolly. ‘But we must also have a place in town. I’ve no intention of living up to my knees in mud all year round.’

  Mr Gregory pressed a hand to his heart as if the very idea pained him.

  ‘I shall be pleased to spend more time in Hampshire,’ I said. ‘After a while, the social engagements in London all seem to blend into each other.’ In fact, I’d begun to loathe them.

  Dolly looked down his nose at me. ‘You remember what Samuel Johnson said, my dear? “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life.”’

  Mr Gregory laughed. ‘The perfect solution presents itself! Miss Langdon, you shall live in Hampshire with the delightful Mrs Pemberton for company while Dolly will remain in Mayfair, close to his tailor and his club.’

  ‘No doubt we shall divide our time between town and country,’ I said. I had no intention of wasting my energy bickering with Mr Gregory.

  ‘If he’d still been alive you might not have found Dolly’s father so pleasant, of course,’ continued Mr Gregory. He looked pensive for a moment. ‘He had very strong opinions, didn’t he, Dolly?’

  Dolly shuddered. ‘And tried to thrash them into me at every opportunity.’

  ‘Died of an apoplexy while in a rage,’ Mr Gregory told me with obvious relish.

  I didn’t feel it appropriate to comment.

  Later the assembled party went outside to wave to the bride and groom as they set off for Scotland in a shiny new landau.

  I was relieved when it was time to leave and Father came to find Dolly and me.

  ‘I’ve been so occupied with the arrangements for the Coronation,’ said Father, ‘that we haven’t yet talked about your honeymoon.’

  ‘Perhaps we might go to Bath?’ I said. ‘It’s very fashionable.’ Wherever we went, I hoped there’d be plenty of diversions. The prospect of spending a great deal of time alone with Dolly was daunting.

  ‘Bath is for milksops,’ said Father in tones of disgust. ‘You shall travel to Italy. You can show Dolly Pesaro and other towns where you stayed.’

  ‘I like the idea of Bath,’ said Dolly. ‘Travel abroad is so exhausting and the beds are never properly aired.’

  ‘I’d prefer not to return to Italy,’ I said. The last place I wanted to go with Dolly was to where I’d been so happy with Alessandro and his family.

  ‘Nonsense!’ Father rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. ‘It’s a perfect idea. It’ll give you the chance to retrace your steps and look for the Infanta’s miniatures. Despite all my letters I’ve had no more contact…’ He broke off at sight of the expression on my face. ‘What is it, Emilia?’

  I glanced at Dolly, whose lips were pressed tightly together as he studied his boots.

  ‘I have no secrets from Dolly!’ said Father. ‘After all, he’s my heir as well as your fiancé. He knows all about the missing miniatures.’

  ‘Still,’ I said, ‘I don’t wish to go to Italy.’ It would be far too painful to be reminded of what I had lost.

  The smile faded from Father’s face. ‘I thought you were committed to the idea of returning the miniatures to their owner?’

  ‘We need not make final decisions about a honeymoon yet,’ said Dolly, clearing his throat again. ‘We’ll discuss it after the Coronation. And how are the preparations proceeding, Sir Frederick? I heard that the King’s red velvet Coronation robe is to be nine yards long, exquisitely embroidered with gold stars and lined with ermine.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Father, easily deflected to his involvement with the Coronation arrangements. ‘His Majesty will be most gloriously attired. A new crown has been made, too, encrusted with over twelve thousand diamonds.’

  ‘And what of the Queen?’
I asked.

  ‘It’s the King’s prerogative,’ said Father, ‘to decide whether Caroline of Brunswick will be crowned and he’ll never agree to it.’ He laughed. ‘She actually wrote to the Home Secretary declaring it was her right. Her mantua-maker is preparing splendid dresses for her but, mark my words, she’ll never wear them in Westminster Abbey.’

  ‘Can the King prevent her attendance?’ asked Dolly.

  ‘He won’t have her anywhere near him,’ said Father. ‘He’s worried she’ll make a scene so he’s hired prize-fighters to be dressed as pages. They’ll stand by all the doors to the Abbey to stop her.’

  Father and Dolly continued to discuss the Coronation while I looked out of the carriage window. I knew better than to defend the Queen in Father’s hearing but it saddened me she was not to be crowned. Although declared innocent at the end of her trial, her reputation had been left in tatters. Now that the Radicals and the Whigs no longer found her useful in supporting their cause against the King, her popularity with the people had waned. I’d visited her in March and been shocked by how little care she was taking of her toilette. Unwashed and wrapped in a coarse shawl, she’d laughed about the popular belief that she’d taken to drink but I’d seen tears in her eyes even as she made a joke of it. The next time I went to visit her I was told she was indisposed.

  The carriage come to a halt in Grosvenor Street.

  ‘Dolly, there are some matters of estate business to discuss,’ said Father. ‘Come to my study, will you?’

  Dolly handed me down from the carriage and I was pleased to escape upstairs to the solitude of my bedroom.

  A few days later, after Aunt Maude had retired early and Father had gone out, I curled up on the chair by the open window in my bedroom and watched the sun setting behind the roofs opposite. I wrinkled my nose as the breeze wafted in the odour of horse dung and drains from the street below. I was bone tired but knew this was the physical manifestation of the sickness of the spirit that troubled me. All those years I’d travelled with Sarah I’d been desperate for a place to belong. Now that I’d returned to my family home, I realised it hadn’t brought me fulfilment. I had everything a girl could possibly want but I wasn’t happy.

  There was a tap at the door and Daisy stood in the doorway, her fingers twisting together. ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but may I have a word?’ She glanced over her shoulder.

  ‘Come in.’ Her expression was so agitated I wondered if she’d come to confess a petty misdemeanour: a scorched lace collar or a snagged stocking.

  ‘It’s your Italian gentleman friend,’ she whispered.

  I sat bolt upright, my stomach twisting into knots. ‘He’s here?’

  ‘He was in the area outside,’ said Daisy. ‘I didn’t know what to do with him so I hid him in the coal store.’

  Flustered, I stood up and smoothed my hair. I wanted so much to see Alessandro but this time I had to face him as Dolly’s fiancé. ‘Did he say what he wanted?’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘He was very excitable, miss, you know how foreigners are, and said you’re to come at once.’

  We hurried downstairs and Daisy led me into the scullery. The day had been hot and it smelled unpleasantly of rotting vegetables. The scullery maid, up to her elbows in greasy water, hastily averted her eyes when I smiled at her.

  We stepped into the paved area and stood outside the door to the store room under the pavement.

  ‘I’ll go back,’ Daisy whispered.

  I fumbled with the latch and slipped inside the coal store. The air was heavy with dust and mould. I stood still, listening to the thudding of my heart, until my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom.

  ‘Emilia?’ Alessandro’s voice was barely a whisper.

  Light filtered through the crack around the coal-hole cover in the pavement above. In the dimness I saw him. My mouth was dry and I hardly knew what to say after the way we’d parted last time.

  His shoes crunched over scattered coal. It was all I could do to stop myself from running into his arms. Immediately I saw him I knew I still loved him.

  ‘I had to come,’ he said in an undertone, ‘to warn you.’ He spoke in Italian but there was no warmth in his demeanour.

  ‘Warn me?’ I’d hoped he’d come to apologise for not believing me when I’d told him I hadn’t received any letters from him and that I wasn’t, at that time, engaged to Dolly.

  ‘Listen to me.’ His voice was urgent. ‘You’re in great danger.’

  Whatever I might have expected, it wasn’t that.

  ‘I followed him,’ said Alessandro, ‘and then I realised who he was.’

  ‘You’re not making sense,’ I said.

  He grabbed me by my upper arms and shook me. ‘Listen, will you! That man you’re going to marry…’

  ‘I know what you thought,’ I said, ‘but I wasn’t going to marry him when we spoke last.’ I had to make him believe me. ‘I only became engaged to Dolly after you made it so clear you didn’t want me.’

  ‘You cannot marry him. He’s a murderer.’

  Nervous tension made me laugh. ‘That’s ridiculous!’

  He released my arms and stepped back. ‘I followed him again last night…’

  ‘What do you mean, you followed him?’

  ‘I’ve followed him on many nights,’ said Alessandro, shrugging. ‘He spends his evenings in gambling dens. Of course I wanted to know more about this blackguard who’d stolen the affections of the woman I once loved. But last night I was close enough to hear him cough and then I recalled where I’d seen him before. Do you remember I told you I’d seen a man looking in through your cottage window just before Sarah was murdered?’

  ‘In Pesaro?’

  ‘Exactly! I challenged him then,’ said Alessandro, ‘but I had Victorine with me and he loped off on those great long legs of his. Don’t you understand, Emilia, he’s the man who killed Sarah? I heard him make that strange cough at the time but thought no more about it.’

  I remembered my own fear when a man had loomed up in the darkness in the passageway behind the cottage and almost knocked me over. ‘But… Dolly has never been to Italy,’ I said, bewildered.

  ‘I heard him and I saw him, Emilia.’

  I stared at Alessandro through the gloom. What could have made him imagine such a thing? ‘You’re jealous!’ I said.

  He spat on the ground. ‘Jealous? I despise him. I tell you again, you must not marry that man.’

  ‘You’re jealous of him and you’ve made up this terrible lie.’ My voice was cold. ‘I thought better of you, Alessandro.’

  ‘Why can I not make you see the truth?’ he hissed, kicking at the coal. ‘If you still insist on marrying a murderer, then I can do no more.’ Roughly, he pushed past me. He snatched open the door and then he was gone.

  I pressed my hands to my burning cheeks and fought back despair. I should have ignored our misunderstandings and made him listen to me. And now there was this dreadful accusation. Alessandro’s words rolled around in my head as I fought to regain outward composure.

  Eventually I felt calmer and opened the door into the area.

  ‘Emilia?’

  I went cold. Father was peering down at me over the railings. Had he seen Alessandro leave?

  ‘What are you doing there?’ he said.

  I looked back at him, struggling to find an excuse for being in the coal store. Then it came to me. ‘I heard a cat yowling,’ I said, ‘and came to see if it was hurt.’

  ‘Did you find it?’

  ‘It must have run away.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, come up before anyone sees you! Your face is smudged with coal dust.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ I hurried up the steps and followed him inside.

  Chapter 27

  Dolly and I had been invited to stay with the Perry family in Northumberland Gardens on the night before the Coronation. Daisy came to wake me at four in the morning, to dress me in my blue satin dress with an embroidered train. She arranged my hair in elabor
ate curls and topped them with white ostrich plumes. I made my way downstairs, with the feathers bobbing at every step, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

  Mr Perry, Araminta, her fiancé Mr Carlton, and Dolly were already in the dining room, dressed in their finery.

  ‘Isn’t this exciting?’ said Araminta, twirling around to show me her dress of apricot-coloured silk. ‘You’d better have some coffee and bread since we don’t know when we shall next eat.’