Chapter 8 #2
Lady Derringer had chosen the material that had been sent from London.
She had been present when the dressmaker, Miss Vivaldi, who’d come specially from London to make the dresses, had me try on each one just before it was finished so she could make any alterations.
It was Lady Derringer who inspected each garment along with Miss Vivaldi when I tried them on, and it was also Lady Derringer who conferred with the dressmaker if something was too tight or needed other alterations.
This morning, she sent for me. I went to her own private room, where she said, “You’ll need some sort of jewelry.
You may borrow my brooch to wear with the blue dress and my amber cross with the other two.
They are appropriate for a young unmarried lady, and they will look lovely on you.
” She smiled as she handed me the two pieces.
“They are beautiful. Thank you so very much. You are very generous.”
“Not at all. I’m happy to share them with you.”
I went back to my room. She was being so kind to me, but she probably only did these things to keep her nephew from embarrassment.
She probably guessed that I’d never owned any jewelry.
And after all, it was strange for an earl to invite the governess, to have her among his superior guests, although I hadn’t seen any indication that she objected to him inviting me.
The brooch and necklace were simple but appropriate, and they would provide me some adornment so that I wouldn’t look quite so poor. I didn’t wish to embarrass Lord Brookhaven any more than she did.
I started to don the dress that was my favorite for this first night. It was a white muslin with lovely pink and lilac embroidered flowers and vines. It was the prettiest dress I’d ever seen, and I could hardly wait for Lord Brookhaven to see me in it.
That was a silly thought. As if Lord Brookhaven would be interested in seeing me in a lovely dress. But if only to myself, I couldn’t deny that I longed to see admiration in his eyes. My heart skipped a beat just thinking about it.
I couldn’t forget Mrs. Merryweather’s frowns when she’d escorted Miss Vivaldi to one of the spare bedrooms so she could take my measurements.
Mrs. Merryweather disapproved. Was it the fact that an earl and his duchess aunt had dresses made for his governess?
No doubt it was that and more. She obviously disapproved of Lord Brookhaven inviting me to his house party.
But she had not warned me about my manners, nor had she given me any instructions.
I hoped that meant that she at least trusted me to conduct myself properly.
Perhaps I should have refused to accept the dresses, but in the moment, I hadn’t considered refusing.
He hadn’t given me the option. Besides, Lady Derringer was in charge of the dresses, would be helping to host the party, and therefore brought an air of respectability and kept Lord Brookhaven from seeming improper.
A thought struck me. Could Mrs. Merryweather believe that Lord Brookhaven was setting me up to be his paramour?
My stomach felt sick. She wouldn’t think that, would she?
As for Lord Brookhaven’s part, it was utterly impossible.
Lord Brookhaven surely knew me well enough to know that I would never agree to such a thing.
Besides, he’d never once done or said anything untoward or improper to me.
Also, why would he have asked Lady Derringer to help him host this party, and why invite respectable, reputable guests if he had nefarious ideas about having an illicit affair with me?
No, unless he did something to alarm me, I simply would not believe Lord Brookhaven meant anything of the kind.
Would I be shunned by his other guests? Even if they didn’t think he was treating me with improper attention, they could hardly want to befriend a governess.
Even Millicent might ignore me if she thought the other guests looked down on me.
I wouldn’t blame her if she did. She was afraid of being shunned herself, as she’d never met an earl before Lord Brookhaven, and the next two weeks would be miserable for her if she was not accepted by the other guests.
I, on the other hand, was becoming accustomed to having no one talk to me.
The only thing I worried about was . . . would Lord Brookhaven treat me the same as he always did? Or would he be embarrassed for his guests, Lord and Lady Rutledge or the Viscount Markeley, to see him talking with me? Would he stop talking with me in his friendly way?
Mrs. Merryweather had sent Daisy, one of the upstairs maids, to fix my hair. She’d done so quickly, jerking my hair to the point of pain, with an angry look on her face. Once she’d finished, I thanked her profusely.
Her expression changed to mild surprise, and she almost smiled before saying, “Very good. Now, I must see to my regular work,” and rushed out of the room.
I needed to think of a way to thank her, make her a gift of some kind or help her with her work when this was over.
One last look in the mirror. I was transformed.
My hair was beautiful, even though it might not be adorned as elaborately as the other ladies’.
I did have the kind of hair that cooperated well, thankfully, and I added a couple of little curls to hang down on the sides.
I liked the way the color of my dress brought out the pink in my cheeks.
But would I look severely unsophisticated among such ladies of society?
Well, if I did, I’d just think of this as a new adventure, something I could write about to Hattie, who’d begged me to tell her every interesting detail.
A knock came at my door as the servant’s voice called, “Miss Robbins? Lord Brookhaven says you must come downstairs.”
“I am coming!” I called back and quickly hurried out.
Hannah had been in the schoolroom when the guests all arrived and had pointed out who was who. Apparently she had seen them before.
“Are they frequent guests?” I’d asked.
“They have come two or three times in the last five years I’ve been employed here. Lord Brookhaven doesn’t have a lot of guests and never has parties.”
If Hannah were a friend, I would have said that I thought it was good that he was having a house party, good that he was not isolating himself, as he’d seemed very melancholy the first night I met him, and I didn’t think a melancholy person should be always alone.
But no doubt Hannah would think me impertinent for presuming to know what our master needed or what was good for him.
My heart was beating fast. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I nearly tripped. I pressed my hand against my chest as I closed my eyes and concentrated on calming my breathing.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Merryweather whispered loudly.
I opened my eyes to find her standing in front of me. “I—”
“Get in the drawing room. Make haste. He’s asking for you.”