Chapter Four
A riadne had been happy to hear that her brother had invited Lord Aldridge to accompany him to White’s today. She hoped the marquess would accept the invitation. It was hard to explain why she even cared about a man she had only meet briefly, especially since he had appeared so disgruntled. It wasn’t as if a marquess were one of her abandoned strays she took in and tried to find homes for. Then again, she had always been the one in her family to try and solve problems. Lord Aldridge wasn’t her responsibility, yet she felt a need to help him.
Whether he wanted her help or not.
She watched out the window as their carriage rolled along the busy London streets as they traveled to Mama’s dressmaker. Her mother claimed Madame Laurent was the best modiste in town. While Ariadne would have been happy for their village seamstress to have made up her come-out wardrobe, Mama insisted it must be Madame Laurent and no one else. She did look forward to choosing the material for a few ball gowns, knowing several balls would occur this Season. It would be enjoyable to discuss the type of gowns the modiste would create for her.
They passed many other vehicles and carts, and she saw the streets lined with vendors selling their goods and food. Ariadne caught the scent of hot pies, causing her mouth to water.
Then she saw a group of ragamuffins, children who were dirty and poorly clothed. None of them wore shoes, and the girls’ legs and feet were stained with the mud of the streets. It broke her heart to think of the dismal lives these children led. She wondered if they were orphans, which caused her even greater pain.
“Finally, we are here,” Mama said as the carriage began to slow and then came to a full stop. “Traffic is terrible these days. It takes forever to reach a destination.”
They were handed down by a footman, and Mama told the driver what time to return for them. Ariadne supposed her father had need of the carriage, and that was why Mama allowed it to return home. She still didn’t understand why it would take so many hours to decide upon a few designs and materials but decided to keep silent. Mama had made her come-out years ago and would know what needed to be done.
They entered the dress shop, and a tall, slender woman with kind eyes greeted them.
“Ah, Your Grace, Lady Ariadne. I am so happy to see you. I will do everything I can to make your wardrobes the best of all the ton .”
She had not thought about Mama needing new gowns since she already had so many to wear. That must be why they would take so long today. Her mother could be quite particular about things, especially her clothing.
“See to my daughter’s measurements, Madame Laurent. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
A young woman appeared, and the modiste said, “This is Giselle, my best assistant. Please come with us, Lady Ariadne. We will need to measure you before we begin discussing the designs for your gowns and the best fabrics to use.”
They went to rooms in the back, where her measurements were taken and recorded, and then returned to the front of the store. Mama sat at a table, flipping through samples of cloth.
Ariadne and Madame Laurent joined her. The modiste picked up a sketchbook.
“What are you looking for in your gowns, Lady Ariadne?”
“I... have not really given it much thought, Madame. I was hoping you would advise me,” she replied. “If it makes sense, I would like to feel pretty and yet comfortable. I know balls go on for many hours.”
The modiste nodded as she began sketching. “We will have to be careful with the shades of your gowns because of your rich hair color. Copper can clash with many colors. We want your gowns to be in harmony with both your complexion and your hair.”
Mama sighed. “It is their father’s fault. All four of my children suffer from inheriting his red hair, which is so unfashionable.”
Ariadne had worried about the shade of her hair, but the way Mama spoke, it would be troublesome. Her usual confidence now deflated.
“Are they all copper-headed?” Madame inquired.
“No. My two youngest girls, the twins, have strawberry blond and auburn hair. Fortunately, my son’s hair is chestnut. It appears brown most of the time. It is only in strong light that the red tint is evident.”
“Will this be a problem, Madame?” Ariadne asked, worrying her bottom lip.
“Bien s?r que non. You have a lovely figure, my lady. We will select the right shades for your gown, as well as flatter your frame. Leave everything to me and Her Grace.”
Over the next two hours, the dressmaker sketched numerous gowns, with Mama giving her approval or turning down the design. The drawings went on and on, which puzzled Ariadne.
Finally, she asked, “How many gowns are to be made up for me this Season, Madame?”
When the modiste told her the number, Ariadne nearly fainted.
“Why so many?”
“Well, you will have the sixty or seventy ballgowns,” Madame Laurent began. “Those are the most important. You will also need gowns for all the many parties. Garden and card parties. Routs. Musicales. Venetian breakfasts. And then you must have appropriate gowns for morning calls.” The woman smiled. “You are very pretty, my lady, and the gentlemen will fill your drawing room each afternoon.”
“But... it is too many!” she proclaimed. “Why would I need sixty ballgowns?”
“For each ball?” Madame said, her brows knitting together as if she were confused.
“You mean I am to wear a different gown each time?” she squeaked.
“Of course, Ariadne,” Mama said smoothly. “Why, you cannot be seen in the same gown twice during a Season! Think of all the harsh gossip that would occur. You are the daughter of a duke.”
“It seems so wasteful,” she said. “When I see the hungry children on the streets, barely clothed, I—”
“That is none of your concern,” Mama said, cutting her off. “We have decided on the designs. Let us look at materials now, Madame Laurent.”
Stunned at the sheer number of gowns that must be purchased, Ariadne sat, dumbfounded, as her mother and the modiste evaluated different materials, deciding which would be suitable for a particular gown. All the while, it almost made her nauseous, seeing the amount of money which would be spent on her wardrobe alone. To think, this would be happening all across town, with numerous girls of ranking peers making their come-outs.
“Mama, will you also have as many gowns made up as I will?” she asked at one point.
Her mother stared at her disapprovingly. When she spoke, her tone was frosty. “I am the Duchess of Millbrooke. I set the standard for Polite Society. Naturally, I will have a new wardrobe for the entire Season, the same as you, Ariadne. Now, you need to participate more. After all, this is your come-out. Have a care choosing some materials for yourself.”
She did as requested, trying to put aside the picture in her mind of those hungry children, but the entire process had fallen flat for her now.
“We are off to a wonderful start,” Mama declared. “You are to begin at once on my daughter’s wardrobe, Madame. When may we expect the first batch of gowns to be finished?”
As her mother and the modiste talked about fittings and timelines, Ariadne wondered how she was going to enjoy this Season. She decided it would be the right thing to do, looking her best, because she wanted to attract a husband. He must be the right kind of husband, though. One who shared her concerns regarding the poor. She wanted to make her mark in the world and not simply be known for being pretty and fashionably dressed. She needed to make a difference and help others less fortunate than herself.
“Quit your woolgathering, Child,” Mama chastised, bring Ariadne out of her reverie. “We are ready to leave.”
“Thank you, Madame Laurent,” she said earnestly. “I know you and Giselle will be working very hard on my behalf.”
The modiste smiled warmly. “We will do our best to make you the best dressed girl of your come-out class, my lady.”
They left the dress shop and entered the waiting carriage.
Immediately, Mama said, “There is no need to thank tradespeople, Ariadne. They are being paid quite well to do their jobs. Madame Laurent’s is to provide you with a spectacular wardrobe. She is being amply compensated.”
“Yes, Mama,” she said meekly, thinking she shouldn’t worry about the many gowns being sewn for her because it was the way Madame and Giselle earned their living. “Will you return to her shop for your own wardrobe needs?”
“I have an appointment with her the day after tomorrow,” Mama replied. “I will have to think on your sisters’ come-outs. Since there are the two of them next year, we might have to come to town earlier in order for Madame to have ample time to make up two come-out wardrobes.” Her mother smiled. “Of course, you will be free to choose Madame Laurent or whomever you wish to design your wardrobe next Season, Ariadne. I am certain you will wed a generous husband, and he will wish to see you clothed in style.”
It struck her anew that come this time next year, she very likely would be a married woman, no longer under her parents’ roof. Why, she might even be with child.
“Do women who are . . . . increasing . . . attend the Season?” she asked.
“It depends how far along they are,” Mama told her. “The style of gowns in fashion now allows women more time before they reveal their status. If they are not showing, many do come for the social events. As they grow larger and more tired, however, they stay home. Are you thinking of yourself?”
Heat filled her cheeks. “I suppose I am. If I am to be married, I will have children. Is that something a couple... plans?”
Mama snorted. “It simply happens.”
“How?” she asked, wondering for the first time about the process.
This time, her mother’s color rose high in her cheeks. “It is not something to discuss.”
“Why not?” she pushed. “I should be prepared for what to do. How does it occur?”
Mama cleared her throat. “A man and woman... come together. The details are unimportant, Ariadne. Suffice it to say, your husband will know what to do and tell you what you are to do to please him. You will couple. A child is the result. Enough of that.”
For the rest of the ride home, they did not speak. She couldn’t tell if her mother were angry or embarrassed—or perhaps both. It did make her curious about how things worked between a husband and wife, however. Perhaps Val might tell her more and help her prepare for her wedding night and beyond.
They entered their townhouse, handing off their cloaks to Parsons.
“Tell Cook we are famished,” her mother told the butler.
“You are to have a guest for tea this afternoon, Your Grace,” Parsons informed his employer.
“A guest? I invited no guest.”
“I did, Mama,” Val said, coming down the stairs. “I had an opportunity to meet our neighbor, Lord Aldridge.”
“Aldridge?” Mama said. “Oh, the new one, I suppose. What is he like?”
“You can judge for yourself when he comes to tea,” Val said airily.
Mama glanced to her. “You must change, Ariadne. Wear the green gown you favor.”
“Why, Mama?”
Looking exasperated, Mama said, “Aldridge is a marquess and quite wealthy.”
The reply stunned her. “You are thinking of him as a suitor for me?”
“He is a marquess,” Mama said dismissively. “Of course, he will be considered a suitor. It will be good for you to meet him before the Season begins. I must change myself. Where is His Grace, Parsons?”
“In his study, Your Grace,” the butler said.
“Get him to tea on time,” Mama commanded.
“Certainly, Your Grace,” Parsons said.
Mama left them, and Val said, “You had better go change, Ariadne.”
“I like what I am wearing,” she protested.
“You do not want Mama upset with you.”
“All right,” she said, admitting defeat. “But how was Lord Aldridge? What did you think of him?”
“Actually, we got along splendidly,” her brother said. “We had a decent conversation about his country estate and shared ideas about farming and livestock.”
“I am glad to hear it. And happy you invited him to tea, Val. But Mama is wrong. He will not be a suitor to me. He does not like me.”
“You cannot know that for certain.”
“He was quite dismissive of me yesterday.”
Val grinned. “Yet you wanted him to make friends with me.”
She shrugged. “He seemed in need of a friend.”
“Perhaps you, too, can become his friend, Sis.”
Being friends with a gentleman was a foreign concept to her. “Do you have friends who are female?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I am not going to answer that question, Ariadne. Go change,” he urged.
She went to her bedchamber and rang for Tally, asking her maid for the green gown which went so well with her hair. Once she wore it, Tally checked Ariadne’s hair and repinned a portion of it.
“You’re fit as a fiddle, my lady. Have a lovely tea.”
Ariadne made her way to the drawing room, aware she was breathing more rapidly and her heart raced. Surely, it couldn’t be because of their guest?
Yet when Lord Aldridge entered the drawing room five minutes later, she realized he was exactly the reason she was both excited and on edge.