“What wonderful news!” Lydia exclaimed, clasping Laura’s hands in her own and kissing her cheek.
Her mother beamed. “Lord Daventon is a lucky man indeed! Lady Maria is quite the catch.”
“Daventon wants us to join him. There is still a month left of the Season. Catherine is better now. She will be able to come, too,” Lady Helena said, her tone suggesting that Lady Catherine had never been estranged from the family.
“You couldn’t have shared better news! Please pass on my inquiries to Lady Catherine Daventon. I still remember our first meeting. Lady Daventon and his lordship were newly returned from the Continent. Lady Daventon was dressed in a lace gown from Paris. It was in silver and mauve. She looked like an angel. I felt dowdy beside her. We all did.”
“We met Lady Maria last season,” Lydia said. “She is both beautiful and charming. She is quite the leader of fashion. Her bonnets are most admired. Hostesses vie for her attendance.”
Laura listened with a sinking heart. She knew nothing about fashion except what the village dressmaker, Miss Henry, told her. Lady Maria sounded intimidating. Why couldn’t Gareth have chosen Lydia? Everything would have been so comfortable.
“Why the long face?” Lydia asked, taking her aside.
“I don’t want to go to London. I won’t know how to get on.”
“Of course you will! You have had an excellent education. You are proficient on the pianoforte. You carry yourself like a true lady.”
“I know nothing about fashion.”
“You will have Lady Maria to guide you. Your mother, too.”
“What will I talk about to callers? Aunt Helena was saying we will have women calling on us. I have no experience of house calls except with our tenants and you.”
“You talk to me all the time.”
“That’s different. It’s only you.”
“I could take offense to that.”
“I’m sorry! I meant to say ...”
“Don’t be such a ninny! I was only teasing! Listen, you are a beautiful, well-behaved young woman. I’ve attended two Seasons. I can tell you most debutantes are nervous about meeting people and talking to them. It’s better to be nervous than to put on a brash air and make a fool of oneself.”
***
Laura was thankful for her maid, Bessie’s presence in the carriage. Her incessant chatter about the changing scenery kept her aunt engaged, leaving Laura free to pursue her thoughts. They were mainly about the mother she did not know.
She had let her aunt and Bessie take care of the arrangements for the journey. Her mind was in turmoil. Everything was happening too fast. They were reconciled with Lady Catherine and she was to have a Season. Her brother was engaged to Lady Maria, a beautiful lady who was the toast of the haute ton.
She wished Gareth had come home instead of writing. She needed to talk to him. She loved her aunt but Gareth was the only one she always turned to with her doubts and fears.
After four days spent on the road and in inns, they arrived in London. “At last!” Lady Helena murmured as the carriage drew up in front of a stately mansion.
Laura’s eyes darted to the entrance as soon as a footman handed her down. There was no sign of Gareth.
“His lordship and his lady mother will be arriving the day after tomorrow,” the butler said, dropping a curtsy.
The servants were lined up on the steps. Lady Helena said a kind word to them, and let the housekeeper lead them inside. Tired from their journey, they dined early and retired. Laura couldn’t sleep for a long time. She felt deflated; she had prepared for the moment when she would meet her mother. She had yearned for it and also dreaded it.
The next day, Lady Helena shown Laura the well-appointed house. “This is the ballroom, my dear. I had my first ball here. How well I remember it! My engagement, too! Dear Edward announced it. He stood under the big chandelier over there.”
Laura obediently followed her aunt from room to room listening to her anecdotes. Many involved her parents. “I didn’t know Father could be so merry,” she said wistfully, after one particularly hilarious account.
Lady Helena squeezed her hand. “Edward was a different man before the unfortunate quarrel. Do you know he sold away this house because he couldn’t bear the thought of coming here again?”
Laura shook her head.
“A coal merchant bought it. A few years later the man met with some reverses and put it up for sale. Mr. Meyers suggested to your father to buy it back. Edward refused. Mr. Meyers also told Catherine. He used to visit Wrenrose every quarter at your father’s behest. Catherine told him to use her funds and buy the house back.”
The butler came in. He looked embarrassed. “Lady Maria is here, my lady. I am sorry, I was away from my post. A footman showed Lady Maria into the drawing room. He is new to the ways of the gentry. He doesn’t know that he must inquire whether you are at home to callers.”
Laura was thrown into confusion. Why had Gareth’s betrothed come? “Aunt Nell, you must tell Lady Maria we are not at home!”
“That would be downright rude, my dear. Come, there’s nothing wrong with your gown. Bessie can redo your hair if you wish though I must say you look very fetching as you are.”
With these and other words of encouragement, Lady Helena led Laura into the drawing room.
Lady Maria stood up when they came in. “Lady Helena, I know you aren’t receiving callers yet but…”
“You are family, dear, or soon to be! Pray come and sit with me!”
Laura dropped an appropriate curtsy and took a seat. Lady Maria was beautiful. No wonder she had captivated Gareth. Laura listened as Lady Helena enquired about the Duchess of Severn. Her aunt knew how shy Laura was in company and kept the conversation running.
Outwardly, with her hands in her lap and her skirts evenly spread out, Laura looked composed. But she wanted to run away and hide in her room. The lessons her governess had rigorously drilled into her were all forgotten. She didn’t know what to say to the poised lady who was easily the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
“Word must have got round. We found a number of invitations awaiting us,” Lady Helena said.
Lady Maria went through the engraved cards. “Lady Malloy’s ball is eagerly awaited. You must attend it.”
“That is only two days away. I’m afraid we cannot attend. We came up to London at short notice and the country, as you know, lags sadly behind in fashion.”
Lady Maria took charge of the problem. She sent word to her modiste for readymade gowns.
“What about Mama? Do you think she will have something suitable for Lady Malloy’s ball?” Laura asked, and colored.
“If Lady Catherine had not had the time or opportunity of repairing her wardrobe, you must not attend Lady Malloy’s ball,” Lady Maria said, in all earnestness. “Everyone will be agog to see her because of her circumstances. If she wears something breathtaking, they will focus on that. I have tested it. Nothing beats scandal like fashion unless it is a bigger scandal.”
Lady Maria’s open manner and the fact that she wanted to help cut through Laura’s reserve. The next day, they went shopping for more gowns. Laura couldn’t remember when she had been happier. Though theirs was a short acquaintance, she knew Lady Maria would be the best of sisters.
But when she went to bed, she thought only about meeting her mother. The beautiful mother who hadn’t loved her enough to come back.
The first time Gareth had taken her to the attic to show her the portrait, she had fallen in love with it. Her mother was beautiful. She was like a fairy. Her smile was tender, and her eyes were filled with love.
Over the years her relationship with the portrait kept changing. Sometimes she went into the attic to blame the woman in the picture for her father's misery. Sometimes she went to gaze upon her mother's face. And sometimes she went into the attic only to turn her back on the picture. A childish gesture but satisfying. I don't care! Do you hear me, I don't care! Why should I when you don't?
Once again, she was plagued with conflicting emotions. Sleep eluded her for a long time as old memories surfaced. She remembered closing her eyes and caressing her own cheek, pretending it was her mother’s touch. She would sometimes draw a caricature of a woman and label it: My Mother. Once she wrote a letter and ended it with I hate you! I wish you weren’t my mother!
***
Bessie was excited and happy for her dear mistress. It was a special day. Lady Catherine was coming! She tiptoed about the room, shaking out the new gowns and looking through the box of new trinkets for something worthy of the occasion.
At half past nine, she gently shook Laura awake. “We must hurry, my lady. Which gown will you wear?”
“Anything.”
“I’ve laid out three new gowns,” Bessie said, drawing Laura’s attention to the daybed.
Laura barely glanced that way. “I’ll wear the blue gown with the white trim.”
A puzzled frown appeared on Bessie’s face. “Do you mean the azure blue from Miss Henry’s shop?”
“The same.”
Bessie stared as if Laura had made an outrageous demand. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you pack it?” Laura asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bessie said, trying to gauge Laura’s strange mood.
“It’s not important. Bring any old gown.”
Bessie did her best to hide her disappointment. A little later she was stunned when Laura said, “I have no mind for curls and fancy styles. Just braid my hair and pin it up.”
Bessie opened her mouth to protest. The only lady who wore her hair into a tight braid was the vicar’s sister and she was at least fifty. One look at Laura’s grim face made her hold her tongue.
If Bessie had plucked up her courage and asked Laura why she didn’t want to dress up to receive her mother, Laura wouldn’t have been able to explain. During the long wakeful hours, her anticipation had given way to old fears. Was she good enough for the woman everyone considered a great beauty? Did her mother really love her? Gareth had written she did. Gareth could be mistaken. His courtship could have blinded him to other matters.
Bessie helped Laura into the gown and twitched it into place. She held up a hand mirror. Laura barely glanced at it. A footman came up to inform that Lady Helena awaited Laura downstairs.
“My lady, the braid becomes you very well. I thought it would make you appear plain but you look even more beautiful,” Bessie said, ecstatically clasping her hands to her bosom.
Laura smiled brightly without hearing a word. She left her room with measured steps and slowly descended the wide staircase. Lady Helena was at the landing, talking to someone who looked like an outrider. The butler and the housekeeper were busy lining up the servants.
“My dear, let’s welcome your mother to Daventon House,” Lady Helena said, stretching out a gloved hand. “She is arriving in a few minutes.”
Laura allowed her aunt to lead her to the foyer. They stood under the arched entrance, with a direct view of the drive. A carriage came in view. Laura stiffened and watched as it came to a stop in front of the steps. “They are here!” her aunt said, smiling.
Laura watched as her brother helped their mother out of the carriage. He continued to hold her hand. Her mother’s smile was as bright as her own. And as brittle. She graciously inclined her head to the servants and greeted Lady Helena.
Laura held back. The blood was pounding so hard in her veins she couldn’t hear what her mother and aunt were saying. And then her mother looked at her and opened her arms. Laura went into her mother’s embrace. Gareth walked across and held them close for a long moment.
“Mother, you must be tired from the journey. Laura, why don’t you take Mother to her room and help her settle in?” he said.
Laura took her mother’s hand. They were both wearing gloves. But Laura could feel that her mother’s hands were cold and shaking.
“This is your room, Lady ...Mother. Aunt Nell says you and Father always used it when you came up to London.”
Lady Catherine gazed at Laura, looking tremulous. “My daughter,” she murmured, reaching out to once again hold her close. At that moment Laura realized there was no need for words. A stronger language, of tears and heartfelt embraces, washed away years of doubt and separation.