Jeanne walked slightly behind Robert, ahead of the footman and maid who’d been dispatched to accompany them to St. Paul’s Church for the evening’s lesson. Apparently the two young people behind her got along quite well, for every now and then, Nancy would giggle at something Giles had said to her. Silly girl. Didn’t she know that young men would say anything to get a girl’s attention and affection? She’d be willing to wager a month’s salary that within a fortnight, Giles’ attention would be directed elsewhere.
Well, it wasn’t her place to worry about it. Her job, at the moment, was to go and make sure Mr. Pompousness didn’t scare off the children. They were to deliver the invitations from the duke and duchess for the Christmas party. If he acted like a monster, no one would come, and the duchess would be devastated. She’d worked so hard to earn their trust. “If they don’t trust you, they won’t learn,” she’d told Jeanne. She also knew they learned better if they weren’t hungry, and that’s why each lesson ended with a treat. Many times she’d have the cook make extra of whatever was on the dinner menu and send that along too.
Tonight was one of those nights. Giles carried containers of food, and Nancy carried some of the extra school supplies. Jeanne carried a basket of the treats they would distribute at the end of the lesson.
She and Robert had agreed to focus on one lesson in table etiquette each time. Tonight, they would work on the correct way to eat soup. They arrived early and set up a table and benches behind the usual chairs. Their students were full of questions, but Jeanne promised the answers would come soon. At the hour, Robert stood in front of them.
“Children, for the next several lessons, we are taking a departure from our usual instruction. You see, you have all received a very special holiday invitation, and Miss Brown and I know you will want to be on your very best behavior.”
The children responded with murmurs of excitement.
One girl stood. “Mr. Townley, are we to have a Christmas party even though Miss Pa— I mean, the duchess isn’t here?”
“That is correct, Polly. The duchess has decided, since she is unable to come here, that she would like all of you to attend a Christmas party at her home.”
His statement was met with gasps of disbelief from the adults watching as well as the children.
“Truly? We’re going to see the duke and duchess — at their home?”
“Will we need to wear new clothes?”
“Should we bring presents?”
“How will we get there?”
“Can Mummy come too?”
Robert put up a hand, and gradually the questions stopped. “Miss Brown and I will attempt to answer all your questions, but for now, we want to show you what will happen and what you will be expected to do. We will teach you to act the way little lords and ladies act.”
Amid the excited murmurs, Robert went on. “The first thing you will do upon entering the duke’s home is that you will follow the butler to the drawing room. You will wait your turn to greet the duke and duchess. When you reach them, the young men will bow, and the young ladies will curtsey. Like this.” He demonstrated a formal bow. “Perhaps Miss Brown could demonstrate a curtsey.”
Jeanne obliged, to the children’s delight.
“May we try?” one child asked.
“Yes, we should practice,” Jeanne replied. “Mr. Townley, why don’t I take the girls to the open area in the back. We’ll need more room, as there are more of us.”
“Excellent suggestion, Miss Brown,” he agreed.
Robert seems more cordial tonight. I wonder if someone took him to task on how to treat the children.
She took the girls to the back and demonstrated again. She gathered her skirt in her hands, pulled outward, and placing one foot behind the other, bent her knees. “Keep your face down and don’t say anything until you are spoken to.” The girls all imitated her with varying degrees of success. Jeanne caught a little girl just before she toppled over. “Maggie, don’t put your leg so far back. You don’t want to tip over when you bend your knees. Mary, keep your head down. It’s not polite to look the duke and duchess in the eye when you’re curtseying.”
While Jeanne worked with the girls, she could hear Robert instructing the boys. He reminded them that even though they were already familiar with the couple as instructors, they would be expected to behave differently while guests in their home. “When they are here, they are your teachers. But in their home, they are nobility, and you must learn how to conduct yourself in their world.”
And there it was. Our world and their world. Her wealthy French grandfather, Louis Gaudet, had the same mindset and had been livid when his daughter Marie had run off and married Michael Brown. The man was not only a commoner, but an English commoner. Monsieur Gaudet had made it very clear what he thought of his son-in-law and had never accepted the grandchildren from that union. Finally, Michael, Marie, and the children had moved to England, closer to Michael’s family, and Grandpère had disowned his daughter entirely.
Jeanne shook off her memories. Nothing would be gained by wishing for what could never be. Noticing that the boys had finished, she told the girls, “We’ll practice again next time. Let’s go back to our seats and see what else Mr. Townley has planned.”
Once the girls were back in their seats, Robert announced, “After all the dinner guests have arrived, the butler will announce the serving of the meal. Lords and ladies enter the dining room in order of their rank — that is, dukes and duchesses first, then marquesses, then earls, and so on. Why don’t we practice getting in line by your ages? The eldest first, the youngest at the back.”
This suggestion met with a little confusion. Several children had no idea how old they were.
“Mum says I was born in the winter,” one girl offered.
“And I’m older than my brother,” a taller boy said.
“All right then, why don’t we simply line them up by height?” Jeanne suggested.
Robert nodded his agreement, and they arranged the children with the tallest at the head of the line. Then he led the line over to the benches and had them sit in the order they entered. He and Giles distributed the napkins, explaining that they should sit back while someone would place them in the children’s laps.
“The first course to be served is the soup. There are some very important things to remember. First, you do not begin eating before the duke. When he picks up his spoon, that is your signal for you to do the same. Understand?”
The children nodded solemnly.
“Second, you do not pick up your bowl. Use the spoon next to your bowl. Scoop a little bit of soup and drink it from there, but do not make noise. The quieter you are when eating, the better.”
“But I don’t want to use my spoon to eat my soup,” one of the boys complained. “Why can’t I just pick up the bowl and drink it like I do at home?”
As Jeanne expected, Robert’s quick intake of breath told her he was taken aback. “Young man,” Robert began.
She raised her hand, intending to soften Robert’s reprimand, but before either of them could utter another word, a roar erupted from the side of the room where the parents watched the lesson. A large man gunned his way toward them, and Jeanne bit her lip, fearing for the valet’s life. But the man stepped around Robert and grabbed the boy by the collar, lifting him out of his seat.
“You do what the man says, ya little bugger! Ye’ve got a chance ta eat fancy food at the home of a real duke and duchess, and all they’re asking of ya is ta eat nice and proper. Don’t you realize what a glorious honor that is? People like us, we don’t get invitations like that. We don’t visit ’ouses like theirs unless we’re gonna clean the chimney or fix the roof. Mr. Townley and Miss Brown here, they’re teachin’ ya some fancy manners. If you learn this, maybe some day you can work in one of them big ’ouses like they do, and you won’t have ta eat cold mush and always wonder where yer next meal is comin’ from. You won’t have ta worry about whether or not the family is gonna freeze to death cuz ya didn’t have money for firewood. Ye’ve got a chance to move up, son, and if you don’t do what they say, I’ll show you what really hard work is. And then you’ll be beggin’ ta use your spoon the way they say. Ya understand me?”
The boy nodded, and his father set him back on the bench. Straightening, the man nodded at Robert. “Beggin’ yer pardon ’bout the interruption. My Johnny’s gonna try a lot harder now. Right, son?” He waited for his son’s nod then touched his cap and returned to the side of the room.
Robert, clearly rattled, cleared his throat. “Er, let’s get started. Mr. Newsome, Miss Stark, please serve the soup so the children can practice.”
After each child got a bowl of the savory soup, Robert went over to the boy who’d complained about using the spoon. Jeanne wondered what he intended to do. Would he berate the child? She watched as the tall man bent and took the boy’s hand in his, placing the spoon in it and guiding it to his mouth. He repeated the motion, gently encouraging, until the boy demonstrated the ability to do it correctly.
Jeanne couldn’t believe her eyes. Had the man frightened some sense into Robert? Was he afraid that if he mistreated Johnny, his father would retaliate? She worked with some of the others, guiding their little hands as they used the utensils, reminding them to say please and thank you and swallowing everything in their mouths before putting in the next spoonful. That, by far, was the most difficult. She understood why they felt tempted to eat as quickly as possible — she’d been hungry herself and when food was available, she’d eaten it quickly. “When you are at the duke’s table, there will be plenty of food,” she reminded them. “You won’t have to eat quickly because when the food on the table is gone, more will be brought out.”
The room went silent, and ten pairs of eyes stared in amazement. “Truly, Miss Brown? They’ll bring more food if we eat it all?”
“Yes,” she promised.
“But,” Robert added, “if the duke puts his spoon down, you must do so also.”
Jeanne nearly groaned. If the children felt they needed to rush through their dinner, they might have more trouble. She’d have to reassure them there would be time to eat their fill. Robert might be learning, but he had a long way to go.