Chapter 5
Five
The beautiful weather and the possibility of going outside, of going out into London to actually do and see something, meant Aurora was up, dressed, and down to breakfast significantly earlier than the Wentworths.
Missie, who had been her schoolfellow at Miss Fielding’s Select Academy for Young Ladies in Brighton, had always been fond of staying in bed as long as possible in the mornings (which led to a number of lectures on slothfulness and punctuality by Miss Fielding herself).
As they had arrived in London on the first of February, and it was now April, she appeared gradually later each day at the breakfast table.
Lord and Lady Wentworth rarely appeared at all, in any case, and Aurora missed the comforting, familiar chatter of home while she ate, even her mother’s lectures.
This morning, however, she was especially impatient for Missie to come downstairs.
She perched on the edge of her chair, staring out the windows of the breakfast room into the sunny garden beyond.
It took her a few moments to realize she had unconsciously begun swinging her leg under the table.
Once again, she found herself wishing she were at home.
Nonsense, Aurora. You are in London. This is an adventure.
As time passed and her friend didn’t appear, she found she was hungry after all and stood to see what was under the great silver lids which covered platter after platter on the sideboard along the wall.
In the end, she grabbed a lone brioche and resumed her seat, alternating between staring out the window and then at the door while she absentmindedly chewed on it.
It was only when she felt a painful crunch on her fingers that she realized she had eaten it completely.
Ruefully, she reflected for the second time that morning on her tendency to woolgather, in this instance while eating.
She liked to eat, and she had an assertive stomach insistent enough to prevent her from becoming more interesting, as Missie would say, with a slimmer profile and only a hint of frailty.
She had become resigned to displaying a robust healthiness, with no danger of appearing on the brink of collapse into a waiting suitor’s arms. While Aurora secretly suspected this was a virtue only to be found in novels, her friend’s insistence on its truth prevented her from totally dismissing it.
She tried to school herself to stillness while she waited.
“Aurora, must you wriggle so?” had been her mother’s frequent complaint as she was growing up.
She was now supposed to be a young lady and a model of decorum, yet she could not mask what she was feeling.
Even now, her body was apt to, well, wriggle when a particularly strong idea or emotion grabbed her attention.
Was it too early to go to the pianoforte and pick out a piece—something by Mozart?
Or Bach? That would soothe her spirits and ease her fidgets into something that provided joy.
No, it was too early. She leapt up and went to the sideboard again for something else.
This time, she picked up a plate and set a slice of beef upon it.
After what seemed like eons, the door opened and a beautifully assembled Missie entered.
She had large gray eyes that darkened to slate when she was irritated or angry, ringed by smoky lashes, and hair so fair it was almost white, interlaced with strands of gold.
This morning’s gown was a pale blue, which echoed the color of the sky outside.
The icy blue of the transparent overdress was intensified by the richer royal blue of the fabric beneath.
Her kid slippers made hardly any sound at all on the polished floor, which she appeared to glide over in any case.
Aurora couldn’t suppress the sigh that escaped her.
No matter how unpunctual Missie was, she always appeared exquisitely turned out, so perfect she did not seem real.
Allowing one of the footmen to pull back a chair, her friend gracefully sank into it and took her place at the table. “Just brioche for me this morning.”
“Yes, milady.”
Gradually, Missie’s eyes lost their faraway look and began to take in the room.
For the first time, she appeared to acknowledge Aurora’s presence, and the porcelain doll mask she sported in public disappeared.
“Wretched sun! It woke me up far too early this morning!” she protested while the brioche was set in front of her.
She daintily stifled a yawn. Nevertheless, a sparkle began to light up her eyes.
Aurora couldn’t wait much longer and came round the table to stand by her friend. “Oh, Missie, it’s glorious out today. Let us escape. Let us go and see something. No modistes or milliners this morning! Let’s, let’s, let’s go and see the bears at the Tower.”
“Bears at the Tower!” Missie let out a small shriek. “Where do you get such dreadful ideas, Rorie?”
“From my guidebook—Legendary Sights of London. Oh, do say yes. Before everyone arrives for the Season and we must be terribly careful about minding our P’s and Q’s. Oh, come, Missie. You know you would love it. Please?” She set her blue eyes to look beseechingly into Missie’s gray ones. “Please?”
While the corners of her friend’s eyes began to turn up a smidge, this was covered with an admonitory, “Goodness, yes, if you insist. We cannot, must not tell Mama of this. Nor your parents. This is not the type of activity we are meant to be introducing you to in London. I went to the Tower once with my governess. It was so large and forbidding and terribly damp as well. I ruined my new shoes by stepping into a puddle on Tower Green. Madame Fourchet was quite cross with me.”
“Well, Madame Fourchet is not here. And we can bring Hyacinth to act as chaperone. I am certain she will be sure and tell us, well, me, what is proper and what isn’t. We will be back in time for luncheon, and your parents will be none the wiser.”
Aurora could tell her pleas were starting to work as the set of her friend’s shoulders began to relax, and she was rewarded when Missie let out a giggle.
“Then we shall, Rorie. And if we do it now, Mama will not need to know.” She lifted her hand delicately about ear height and waggled her fingers to call the silent footman over to her.
When he approached her chair, she informed him she needed the carriage brought round and Miss Hyacinth to be fetched, as the young ladies were going into town.
As he left the room, Missie jumped up and pulled Aurora to her feet.
“Come on, before I change my mind,” she said, and the two young women hurried upstairs to finish their toilettes for going out.