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THURSDAY AFTERNOON, 5 July 1821
Although it was not yet mid-day, I was already tired and longed for a nap to make up for the wakeful hours I had spent last night worrying over Wendy’s whereabouts. On my way home from the Tremonts that morning, I went over and over again in my mind the unpleasant conversation I had had earlier in the day with Mr. Haworth. I could not help wondering if Aunt Helen knew what he intended saying to me, or if to sack me had occurred to him on the spot after I confessed I was on my way to meet a friend, which of course, meant that I would, once again, not be on hand to see to Cathleen’s needs this morning.
But, I had not been employed as her nursemaid, I told myself defensively. Nonetheless, even I knew I had been derelict in my duties the entire past sen-night and to be caught out and sacked for it was entirely justified. Still, I did wish to speak privately with Aunt Helen, and would make a point to do so the minute I arrived home . . . before I informed her that I intended to set out for another pleasure jaunt this evening. My head shook. How inopportune for the Assembly Rooms to open for the Season this very evening, meaning I could not yet begin to make amends for my regrettable behaviour towards Cathleen. Still, I confess, the notion of being led onto a polished dance floor by a gentleman was far too tempting a prospect to resist. My limited experience at the fancy-dress ball at Morland Manor paled by comparison.
Arriving home and finding Pansy guarding the entrance to the cottage from the doorstep, her orange tail wrapped about her front paws, brought a smile to my lips. “Hello, girl,” I said, reaching to give the cat a pat on the head. “Are you waiting for me?” I stepped past her. “Let us go and see if Aunt Helen has something tasty for you to nibble on, shall we?”
Entering the house with Pansy on my heels, I instantly spotted our young housemaid Wendy coming down the hall, carrying a pile of folded up linen in her arms.
“Wendy! I am so glad to see you!” I very nearly rushed forward to fling my arms about her. “You gave me a terrible fright when you did not return home last evening.” I fell into step beside her as she began to climb the stairs. “Did . . .?” I lowered my voice. “Did everything go as planned with your brother? Did he sign on with the . . .?”
“So sorry to have give you a fright, miss.” Beneath her mobcap, the young girl’s brown head wagged. “When I reached home, Willy tol’ me something was afoot last night and it’d be safer if’n I wasn’t out walking, so I stayed put. Ever’thin’s fine now. Willy’s already out to sea. ‘E left this mornin’. I know ‘cause I saw ‘im off,” she stated proudly. “I’m real happy how things has worked out, miss.”
“And I am happy you are safe, Wendy. I am pleased for Willy, as well, but I am especially glad to see you again.”
Reaching the landing, we nearly collided with Aunt Helen, who was just then heading down. She smiled when she saw me speaking with Wendy. “Did I not tell you, Juliette? Our Wendy returned this morning just as I said she would.” She paused until Wendy had disappeared into Mrs. McCurtain’s bedchamber, then in a low tone asked, “Did Mr. Haworth speak with you before he left for London?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “He did. I wonder if I might have a private word with you, please?”
“Of course, you may, dear. I rather expected you would wish to speak with me. By the by, I did appreciate the note you sent ‘round. Without it, I would have commenced to worry over your whereabouts.”
Aunt Helen walked with me to my room. Once inside, I pulled the door to but did not latch it. Depositing my reticule on the bed, I began to remove my bonnet. “I just wanted to tell you, ma’am, that I will soon be leaving Margate. Since Mr. Haworth informed me that my services are no longer required, I do not believe I should continue to stay on here.”
“You will not be going anywhere,” Aunt Helen said firmly. “George Haworth is a hot-headed old fool. I do not know how my sister has tolerated him these many years. I daresay the fact that she is ill and bed-ridden rather helps her to cope with her husband’s ugly outbursts. It has not escaped my notice that Cathleen has inherited a good bit of her father’s prickliness. Depend on it; if my niece wishes to land herself another husband, she will have to learn to curb her temper. At any rate, so far as I am concerned you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. You are a lovely young lady and I quite enjoy your company.”
“Thank you, Aunt Helen. I quite enjoy your company as well.”
She sat down on the bed as I moved to hang my bonnet on a peg, then turned around. “To say truth, I would like to stay here a bit longer, at least until I have done all I can to help my friend Olivia Tremont find her sister. Olivia and I scoured the beach this morning whilst her brother and his friend searched the cliffs for signs of a hidden cave. We are all at our wit’s end over what could have happened to poor Priscilla.”
“My, I do hope the girl turns up soon,” Aunt Helen said, her gray head shaking sorrowfully.
I perched on the little stool before the dressing table. “However . . . since I am no longer employed by Mr. Haworth, or Cathleen, I do wish to pay you for my lodging.”
“Why, I will take nothing at all from you! As I mentioned before, George gave me sufficient funds to take care of both you and Cathleen for the duration of your stay, so I shall hear no more on that score either.”
“You are very kind, Aunt Helen.” I paused before adding, “I daresay I should leave off addressing you as Aunt . . .”
“I rather like you calling me Aunt Helen.” She smiled. “Therefore, you have my permission to continue doing so.” She rose and moved a few steps closer to the door. “I have already informed Cathleen that you will be staying on as my guest, so you needn’t feel the least bit discomfited in her presence. And, pay no heed to any discourteous comments she might direct your way. I daresay her being allowed to see her baby a bit more often has improved her outlook. So . . . we shall move forward as if nothing has changed,” she concluded with decision.
“I truly appreciate your kindness, Aunt Helen.” I exhaled the anxious breath I had been holding, and added, “I said nothing to Olivia Tremont this morning regarding what had transpired between myself and Cathleen’s father. However, I rather expect I could have removed to her home, but . . . her brother Ashford seems to have taken a fancy to me, and to say truth, I find his attentions rather . . . off-putting. I would far rather remain here with you and Cathleen than stay elsewhere.”
At that instant, my bedchamber door opened of its own accord. Both Aunt Helen and I looked ‘round in time to see a ginger cat amble in, her tail held high. Pansy mewed and made straight for my ankles and began to rub around them.
“It appears Pansy is also pleased to have you remain here with us,” Aunt Helen said on a chuckle.
“I am happy to stay here with you, as well, little Pansy.” I reached to pet the cat while Aunt Helen exited my bedchamber, saying as she went, “The girls will be setting out our luncheon soon. I mean to invite Cathleen to join us. It is time she abandoned that little pantry where she’s been living.”
The cat had hopped to my lap and was now head-bumping my chin. “Pansy and I shall be right down,” I said. “And then you and I, little Miss P, will settle in for a nice long nap.”
Thursday Evening, 5 July 1821
Soon after tea that afternoon, and following a much-needed nap, I sought out Aunt Helen in the parlour to tell her where I was planning to go that evening. She said she had wondered if I would attend an Assembly whilst I was in Margate and added that if I wished to have my gown pressed to ask Wendy or Meg to take care of it for me.
On my way from the parlour, I found Cathleen lingering still in the corridor.
“So, you mean to attend an Assembly tonight? Were you planning to mention your whereabouts to me?”
I smiled. “No, Cathleen . . . I was planning to invite you to come along.”
She pulled a face. “Do not be daft. I am a mother now. I can no longer go gallivanting about as if I were a carefree girl.” Her lips firmed, then she said, “It appears Father’s talk made no impression on you. You are as thoughtless as ever. I said once before that you have changed, Juliette. You are clearly not the person I once knew. You are now . . .”
I waited. “What, Cathleen? What am I now? Or rather, who am I now, that you find so very disagreeable?”
With a haughty sniff, she looked away. “Go then, and have a lovely evening. Give no thought to me or my . . . I shall . . . I intend to ask Mrs. Murphy to allow me to keep Alistair permanently once she brings him to me today.” She moved a step closer to the cottage door. “She should be arriving any moment now.”
“I am truly happy for you, Cathleen.” I smiled. “I know how terribly you miss your son. I do hope the midwife can see that you are now fully recovered and able to take proper care of your infant.”
Turning to ascend the stairwell, I soon heard the rap at the cottage door and Cathleen’s cry of pleasure as Mrs. Murphy once again settled the baby into its mother’s waiting arms. Above stairs I found Meg fluffing the pillows in Aunt Helen’s bedchamber, and prevailed upon her to take the gown I had chosen to wear this evening and press the wrinkles from it.
She willingly did so and that evening, also helped me dress.
This evening I waited until Ashford Tremont had rapped at the cottage door rather than dash unescorted to the carriage awaiting me at the curb. I confess I felt quite elegant heading off to a real ball. My gown had been one of Marianne Chalmers’ favorites and was now one of mine, despite the fact that I had not yet had a proper occasion to wear it.
A filmy lace overdress covered the lavender silk column that fell in gentle folds to the floor. A wide lavender satin sash gathered the soft tucks of the bodice and the folds of the long skirt. About my arms I wore a matching lavender lace shawl and for tonight, I had piled my honey-blonde curls atop my head and secured them with a cameo brooch, leaving a few wispy tendrils to softly caress my cheeks. Whilst I was dressing, Aunt Helen had declared that I looked lovely, which brought a smile of pleasure to my lips. It was at times such as these that I missed having a mother to fuss over me.
After Aunt Helen and Ashford had exchanged pleasantries, he and I made our way down the walk to the coach, he gushing over how beautiful I looked tonight. Once he and I were settled within the closed coach, I smiled at Olivia, fully expecting her to also remark upon my lovely ball gown but instead, her lips were tight and other than a slight nod of her head in my direction, she merely turned to gaze from the window of the closed coach at her side.
“You look beautiful tonight, Olivia,” I said. “The blue of your gown matches the blue of your eyes. Does she not look lovely, Noble?”
Noble also seemed a trifle out of kilter. All he said, rather tightly, was, “Olivia always looks lovely.” Then, he too, turned to stare from the small window on his side of the coach.
The ride to the Royal Hotel in Cecil Square was of short duration, which was just as well, since conversation between the four of us inside the coach was thin to non-existent. I could not think what the trouble might be. Olivia and I had parted on good terms this morning. I could only conclude that she and Noble had quarreled, and wondered if it would be too forward of me to inquire of Ashford what the trouble between them might be.
Inside the brilliantly lit hotel, we passed beneath a range of tall Doric columns extending across the entire front wall of the building, and fell in behind a seeming hoard of other guests, talking and laughing with one another as they made their way to the spacious ballroom. I felt very grand, indeed, and not the least bit out of place. With high interest, I took note of the other ladies’ ball gowns and realized that I was as finely turned out as any one of them, including Olivia, perhaps a bit finer than she, for all that.
Once the orchestra started up, and the Master of Ceremonies had welcomed everyone to the first Assembly of the Summer Season, Ashford Tremont promptly extended an arm and led me onto the dance floor. I felt the color rise in my cheeks as I proudly smiled up at him. How, I wished Mr. Philip Talbot could see me now. How I wished I could see him now. How I wished that my first time to dance upon a real ballroom floor might be on his arm, as his partner. But, it was not to be and I had no choice but to accept things as they were, even if they were not precisely as I wished.
I did note that Ashford, as well as most all the other gentleman, looked dashing tonight in form-fitting satin breeches, white stockings and shiny black pumps. Ashford’s coat was a fashionable shade of deep blue, whereas Noble’s was a smashing lemon yellow. Both gentlemen, I also noticed, were quite creditable dancers, neither of them hesitating the least bit over the intricate steps, or the quick turns. If anything, it was I who exhibited some hesitancy, despite the fact that I had practiced a bit on my own. Still, as the dance progressed, I found that I was able to fall into step with the other couples with relative ease and even a modicum of grace. I made a point to smile at Olivia who was confidently moving hand-over-hand near me and when she did not return my smile, I wondered again what could be causing her to behave in such a cool manner towards me.
A bit later, the gentlemen left Olivia and me standing together on the sidelines as they repaired to the area where light refreshments had been laid out. At once I turned to my companion, who at the moment, stood silently gazing out at the other couples as they took up positions on the dance floor for a lively gavotte.
“Olivia, please; do tell me what the trouble is.”
Sniffing, she merely thrust up her chin. “I cannot think what you are talking about.”
“You have scarcely spoken to me. It is plain to see that something is troubling you. Please, tell me what is wrong. Allow me the opportunity to set things to rights.”
Her nostrils commenced to flare as she spun towards me. “I do not see why I should.”
At that instant, the gentlemen returned, their hands full.
“Here we are, ladies,” Ashford said, “lemonade and sweet biscuits for all. Shall we partake of our feast where we stand, or shall I send my lackey Noble to search out a proper table for us to sit?”
Olivia whirled about. “I do not wish to eat anything.”
“Why ever not, Livie? The biscuits are quite tasty.”
“Give them to Miss Abbott. I am not hungry, nor am I thirsty.” She moved a few feet away from me; and, chin held aloft, stood coolly gazing at the couples cavorting gaily about the dance floor.
I cast a quizzical gaze up at her brother. “Ashford, if you know what it troubling your sister, please enlighten me, for I am at a loss.”
Resting his glass on a nearby window ledge, Ashford silently motioned for me to follow him. Willingly, I did so.
“All I know is that she read the letter meant for Noble that arrived today from Mr. Carrington. She’s had her knickers in a twist ever since. ‘Cuse my language. Guess I should have said her nose is out of joint, rather than her . . . dash it, you take my meaning.”
“But, if the letter was from Noble’s father, and meant for him . . . how could it have anything to do with me? I have never met the gentleman.”
Ashford shrugged. “Couldn’t say. All seems rather a mystery to me. Not even certain Noble knows what it’s all about. I simply overheard Mother scolding Liv for reading post that was meant for Noble. But, she was already overset by then and there was nothing to be done for it. Shall I ask Noble what the trouble is?”
“Please do.” I exhaled a fretful sigh. “Whatever it is, it has certainly cast a pall over our festivities this evening.”
We ambled back to the window ledge where Ashford had left his cup. He leant against the sill as he sipped his lemonade whilst I stood facing him, both gloved hands wrapped around my cup. Now and again I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder in Olivia’s direction.
At length, Noble appeared at my shoulder. “Couldn’t find a proper table, Ash. Olivia refuses to eat a biscuit anyhow. So, Miss Abbott . . . would you do me the very great honor of . . . standing up with me?”
I glanced at Ashford, who grinned crookedly. “You two go on. I’ll have a word with Liv.”
Setting down my still full cup, I stiffly took Noble Carrington’s arm and the pair of us set off for the dance floor. As the steps of the contradanse kept us apart for the bulk of the figures, conversation between us was also thin. I did ask him if he and Ashford had had any luck today in their search for a cave amongst the cliffs. He said no, and did not elaborate. I asked nothing further as my thoughts were in a tangle wondering what on earth could have so vastly overset Olivia.
Upon returning to both her and her brother, neither of whom had joined the dancers but were mutely standing side-by-side, he staring out onto the floor, she doing the same, Olivia did not deign to even glance my way. However, moments later when both gentlemen again took themselves off, I determined to seize the moment to get to the bottom of the difficulty in the gentlemen’s absence.
“Olivia I insist you tell me, at once, what the trouble is.”
After a pause, although still not looking at me, she said, “You and Noble make a handsome couple.”
“I do not wish to speak about Noble Carrington. You should have been the one to stand up with him just now, not me. I wish to know what has happened to cause you to behave in so . . . so frightful a fashion towards me. I cannot think what I might have said or done to have offended you.”
I noted her lips press together, then at length she said, “I have given the matter a great deal of thought, Miss Abbott, and I have decided that I will not stand in your way.”
Bewildered, I asked, “What are you saying, Olivia, and why are you now addressing me as Miss Abbott? I am your friend, Juliette. Please, tell me what the trouble is.”
She looked down, then back up. “If you must know, I-I read the letter from Noble’s father this morning; perhaps I should not have, but, I did; and the information it contained was . . . enlightening to say the least . . . but also troubling. I now know the whole truth about you, and clearly, there is no further hope for a friendship between us. Our circumstances are . . . far too divergent.”
My heart sank. Suddenly the crowded ballroom felt so very close, it rendered me lightheaded. A gloved hand flew to my forehead. “Suddenly I feel quite faint.”
Olivia merely cast a cool gaze my way. “Surely you carry smelling salts in your reticule. Do not all fine ladies carry such a vial?”
The tightness in my chest caused my breath to come in fits and starts. With difficulty, I worked to regain myself and finally managed to say, “Please, Olivia, do not make sport of me. As you know, I am not a . . . a fine lady. I am not a lady at all.” I stopped speaking merely because I hadn’t the breath to confess the whole truth to her, which was not necessary since she already knew it; although how Mr. Carrington had managed to uncover the circumstances of my past eluded me. Still a part of me felt compelled to own up to the fact that I was, indeed, little better than a servant, that I had once served as a lady’s maid and that for nearly seven years of my life I had been employed as a paid companion to either Lady Carstairs, or her niece Miss Cathleen Haworth, in London.
“You may not be possessed of a title, Miss Abbott,” Olivia spat out, “but as the facts bear out, that is of little consequence now, is it?”
Her scornful words had not yet begun to register within my fevered brain. “I-I do not understand what you are saying . . .”
“Leave off, Juliette! I am so far beneath you I cannot hope to ever attain your elevated station in life. I know you are an heiress! Noble knows you are an heiress! Whilst in London, Mr. Carrington uncovered the truth about Miss Juliette Abbott and he now insists that Noble take you to wife! The man is desperate for money and he will snatch it wherever he can find it.” She paused to draw breath, and then, in quite a resigned tone said, “Because I love Noble with all my heart, I have decided to . . . to step aside. You are free to marry my . . . my,” tears began to swim in her eyes, “m-my beloved Noble.”
With that, she turned and fled from the ballroom, leaving me to absorb all she had just said. Not a word of it made the least bit of sense to me. I did not wish to marry Noble Carrington! How did . . . could it be possible that, whilst in London, Mr. Carrington had . . . had somehow chanced upon an official from the Bank of England who had hinted at, or perhaps even disclosed, the actual sum of the funds that were indeed on deposit in my name, but, in actuality, I was not at all certain I possessed? It seemed highly unethical to me that someone at the bank would reveal a depositor’s financial assets to another, but as I had no clue how things were done, I was not at all certain what was right or wrong on that score.
Moments later when Ashford and Noble Carrington sauntered up to me, I made a fervent effort to put aside my distressing ruminations.
“Is Olivia dancing with another gentleman?” Noble asked, his eyes straining to see past those guests who were not on the dance floor but were instead milling about on the fringes of the ballroom.
I looked imploringly up at Ashford. “Might I prevail upon you, sir, to please take me home now? Please, sir, I wish to leave.”
His expression was all puzzlement. “Has something untoward happened between you and my sister? Where has Olivia got off to now?”
“She . . . became overset with me and ran from the ballroom. I should like to return home now, Ashford. Please.”
Ashford turned to say something to Noble, who glanced at me, then headed off in the same direction in which Olivia had disappeared.
“Very well, then, I shall see you home, Miss Abbott.”
Little to nothing was said on the short drive back to Northumberland Row. Seated across from Ashford, I felt far too raw inside to utter a single word. What had begun as a grand adventure this evening had suddenly become a nightmare of half-truths and misunderstandings that I had no desire to discuss, or explain.
Once the closed carriage drew up before the cottage, I was again shocked speechless when instead of alighting from the carriage, Ashford instead rose and repositioned himself on the opposite bench beside me!
His voice was noticeably hoarse when he said, “Miss Abbott, I . . . I have wished for some time now to tell you that I find you . . .” Suddenly, the gentleman leaned in as if he meant to kiss me!
“You forget yourself, sir!” I drew back in horror, the latch to the door of the carriage pressing painfully into my back. “Please, open the carriage door at once, and assist me to the ground. This evening has drawn to a close, sir. I wish to go inside now.”
Drawing himself up, he straightened his waistcoat. “Very well, Miss Abbott. As you wish.”
Once safely inside my bedchamber, the tears that had begun to swim in my eyes gave way and began to stream freely down my cheeks. When a light rap sounded at my door, I said nothing. I did not wish to speak to anyone, although I knew I had no choice, since to get myself out of my ball gown was not possible without aid. The task clearly required another pair of hands to undo all the underpinnings and whatnot. I was trussed up in such a fashion, I was not at all certain I could even divest myself of my own stockings and slippers.
“Juliette, dear. Is it I, Aunt Helen. You are home quite early, sweeting. Might I come in, please?”
A sob escaped me.
Aunt Helen let herself into the room and at once, drew me into her arms. “There, there, dear. Whatever it is cannot be so bad as all that. Did the young gentleman attempt to . . .?”
Through my tears, I nodded, then as quickly shook my head. “No; yes, he did. Oh, Aunt Helen, how did things get in such a muddle?”