Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Later that morning, Clementine busied herself at the women’s shelter. After breaking her fast with Rosalind, she had left the house quietly.
Her heart raced with anticipation as the carriage rolled through the quiet streets, the city still half-asleep, the mist hanging low over the cobbles.
It did not take long before she was once again within the comforting bustle of The Haven.
By midmorning, she had already prepared the rooms, tidied after the women who had arrived overnight, and checked in with the kitchen to see if further help was needed.
Later, she sat opposite Miss Linton in the small office.
As they folded napkins and spoke of nothing of particular consequence—how the bread delivery had been late, how one of the girls had burned her hand on the stove, when the new order of blankets would arrive—Clementine felt soothed by the domestic simplicity of their tasks.
Here, there was no pretense and no requirement to charm or dazzle. Only kindness, only purpose.
The door opened suddenly, and a woman Clementine had not met before bustled into the room. Her cheeks were pink, her breathing labored, as though she had hurried from the street.
“Miss Masters!” Miss Linton exclaimed, rising from her chair. “How lovely to see you again… Do come in.” She gestured toward the spare seat beside Clementine, then asked, “But why are you so flustered?”
Clementine stood politely. “Would you like me to give you some privacy, Miss Linton?”
“No, no,” Miss Linton replied with a kind smile, waving her hand. “Not at all. Lady Clementine, may I introduce Miss Elizabeth Masters? She’s been away in the country, but we were expecting her return. She volunteers with us often.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Clementine said. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”
"And I you, Lady Clementine," Miss Masters replied with enthusiasm.
She settled into the chair. "When Miss Linton wrote to say that one of our new volunteers was a duke’s daughter, I could hardly believe it.
I just had to travel back to London as fast as I could to see if this news was indeed true. "
Clementine laughed softly, unsure what excitement such news could provoke. “You are very kind, but truly, I am doing nothing extraordinary. Only what anyone in a fortunate position ought to do.”
Miss Masters nodded eagerly. "Indeed. From what I hear, we shall be working together quite often. I am here several times a week. I live close by, in Cheapside. My father is a doctor."
“How lovely.” Clementine had never met a doctor’s daughter before, and what a wonderful profession. “What an honorable living your father has.”
"He does indeed," Miss Masters agreed. "Though he grows older and speaks often of retiring. As I am now engaged to be married to a gentleman farmer, I thought it best not to abandon my charitable efforts before I am forced to do so by leaving the city. So here I am again, ready to be useful now that I’m back from the country. "
“Well, welcome back to London.” Clementine smiled. “I am certain we shall get along splendidly.”
Miss Masters looked between Clementine and Miss Linton, her eyes bright. “I must admit, Lady Clementine, I am rather in awe. We have never had anyone of your station here before. And to think your sister is the Duchess of Ravensmere—I hardly know what to say.”
Clementine reached out to pat the woman’s hand gently. "You needn’t say anything at all. While I suppose it’s a novelty to see a duke’s daughter here, I assure you, I am quite ordinary. I don’t believe my circumstances make me any better—or worse—than those who work beside me."
She meant it too. Each woman here—from the laundress to the matron—gave more of themselves than Clementine had ever been required to offer in her gilded life. Their dedication humbled and inspired her. She longed to do more with what she was born with, not merely marry and have children.
Some people, of course, did believe such individuals were beneath them—especially those who were not nobility or gentry. Thankfully, she and her sisters had never had that overinflated view of themselves.
Miss Masters smiled. “You have such a gracious way about you. I fear I should be rather more boastful were I in your position.”
Clementine laughed softly.
Miss Linton chuckled and shook her head. “We were just folding napkins, if you would like to join us?” she invited.
“Oh, of course, I would.”
They continued folding napkins, the pile before them growing steadily. The room smelled faintly of starch and tea, sunlight slanting across the table.
"I have been trying to convince several women on my street in Cheapside to volunteer," Miss Masters said. "Some are comfortable enough to give their time, but they hesitate due to the location of The Haven. Perhaps now that you’ve joined us, Lady Clementine, they’ll be more inclined.
You lend…credibility to our cause, if I may say so. "
“That would be wonderful indeed,” Miss Linton agreed. “More hands, more good done for those less fortunate.”
Clementine nodded. “Yes, the shelter can always use more help—and more funds, for that matter. I hope to speak with my brother-in-law about donating to the charity.”
Miss Masters hesitated with her response, then straightened, her expression brightening as though struck by sudden inspiration.
“Lady Clementine, please do not think me too forward, but I wonder if you would do me the great honor of joining a small gathering I am hosting this evening. It is to introduce my betrothed to a few friends and family. He is a gentleman farmer, you see, and doesn’t know many people, or anyone, really, in London.
Miss Linton will be there, so you will already know someone.
We are not, of course, of the same social sphere, but I would dearly love for you to come.
My father will be beside himself to meet a daughter of a duke. ”
Clementine hesitated, taken aback by the woman’s earnestness and hand of friendship. Pity the debutantes of the ton were not so welcoming. How long had it been since anyone had invited her somewhere simply for companionship, not to raise themselves further in society? The thought warmed her heart.
“I am to attend the Austen ball this evening,” she said slowly. “But perhaps I might make an appearance at your gathering earlier in the evening. If you would write your address and the time, I shall ask my sister if she will permit me to attend. While I cannot promise, I will certainly try.”
Miss Masters clapped her hands together, her delight unrestrained. “How wonderful! Thank you, Lady Clementine. I shall write it out this instant.”
Clementine chuckled softly, glancing at Miss Linton, who hid her amusement behind a demure smile.
When the note was written, Miss Masters set her pencil aside and reached for the linen. “Now, pass me more of those napkins. Many hands make light work, after all.”
Clementine handed her a stack with a smile.
The gesture, simple as it was, filled her with a warmth she could not quite name.
For all the grandeur of her upbringing, she had never felt as rich in spirit as she did sitting in that plain little office, folding napkins beside women who labored for kindness rather than recognition.
As the three of them worked together, laughter and quiet chatter filling the air, Clementine thought that this—this simple purpose, this friendship—was precisely what she had been missing and craving in equal measure.