CHAPTER THREE #3
“Mama, how can we possibly afford the kind of clothes you have been describing?” she blurted out when the sheer volume of Mrs. Marsh’s listings finally penetrated her preoccupation with her own personal concerns for her surrendered autonomy.
Her mother’s laugh sounded oddly youthful in Laura’s ears.
“Have I been prattling on as though expense were no consideration, dearest? I beg you to believe I am not so idiotic as that, but we are not paupers either, and what with it being winter and all, we have neither of us purchased any new clothes since our mourning period ended. Certainly some additions to our wardrobes would have been necessary even were we to remain in the country.”
“Yes, but not elaborate gowns for going to the opera or balls or the theatre, and not —”
“No, but Oswald has very generously offered to underwrite our needs for the season.” Seeing the frown that descended on her daughter’s brow, Mrs. Marsh continued persuasively, “You have said yourself that I shall be performing a signal service for my brother in agreeing to oversee Sophia’s come-out, dearest, so it must be a source of satisfaction to you to know that he considers himself to be in my debt. ”
“But not in mine, Mama. I am at best a necessary evil to my uncle. I cannot feel comfortable about accepting expensive gifts from one who is not bound to me by close ties of affection.”
“Indeed, you do your uncle less than justice when you ascribe such feelings to him, Laura. That would be to deny the real sense of family obligation that he possesses.” Mrs. Marsh drew a sheet of paper from her workbag and unfolded it.
“After requesting my assistance with Sophia, he writes, Naturally you will wish to introduce your own daughter to society if she cares to accompany you. It will be my duty and pleasure to augment your wardrobes to meet the requirements of a London season. I do not deem it impossible to achieve a respectable connection for Laura. Though she might be thought to be past the first blush of her youth, she is fortunate in favouring you to some extent, and I well recall that you were considered a success during your own come-out. You see, my love, your uncle does indeed consider himself in loco parentis for you.”
Laura murmured a weak acknowledgment. Nothing in Sir Oswald’s tepid offer negated her innate conviction that he was merely making a virtue of necessity by concealing a personal disaffection for his half-niece.
He was shrewd enough to take his sister’s measure and desperate enough to assume the only posture that would elicit her cooperation in his plans for Sophia.
Sinking her pride in a temporary accommodation with her uncle, no matter how distasteful, weighed less than a feather when set in the balance against twenty years of sacrifice on her mother’s part for her daughter’s sake.
Buoyed by her resolution, Laura mustered the grace to go along with all her parent’s preparations for departure with the appearance of pleasure, though it was grim determination rather than nobility of character that supplied the necessary spur.
Their peculiar family circumstances having resulted in a restricted social life in the past, Laura had never developed much of an interest in fashion.
Among the local matrons it was generally conceded that Annabelle Marsh possessed exquisite taste, and Laura had been the beneficiary of her mother’s unerring eye for what best became her.
She was quite content to prolong her reliance on her mother’s judgment, deferring to her suggestions as a matter of course until Mrs. Marsh turned to her at breakfast one morning, saying anxiously, “Believe me, dearest, I have no desire to come the dictator over you. If you prefer the green sprigged muslin to the blue, please tell Mrs. Plunkett when she arrives. I only mentioned the blue because your straw bonnet has blue ribbons. That is easily remedied, you know.”
“No, Mama, I liked them equally well,” Laura assured her.
The ladies had bespoken a couple of simple morning gowns to be made up immediately by a local seamstress who had obliged the Marsh family in the past. “You choose whichever you think most attractive when Mrs. Plunkett comes. I really must see Mr. Judson this morning. There is still much to decide before we leave.”
There was a multitude of small chores to be performed, minor decisions to be taken, farewell calls to be made in the neighbourhood, and instructions to be written out for the staff in their absence.
They were occupied every hour of the day, and a considerable number of evening hours as well, with details pertaining to the move to London.
Laura marvelled at the renewed energy displayed by her parent in the sennight between receiving Sir Oswald’s letter and the tentative date set for their departure; in fact, if hers had been a fanciful nature, she’d have declared that the invitation had made a new person of her mother, or a rejuvenated version at least. This new sparkle and alertness about her parent was Laura’s reward for her continued efforts at dissembling her own reluctance to embark on their London adventure.
It took years from her age, a discovery that gave way to the irrelevant thought that were the flirtatious Lord Hastings to see Mrs. Marsh today, a repetition of his claim that she and her daughter looked enough alike to be twins would not seem much of an exaggeration at all.
At the thought, Laura’s lips curved into the first real smile she’d produced since committing herself to joining the army of husband-hunting girls about to be let loose on the ton.
She shuddered at this repulsive prospect but brought herself up short.
She was committed, there was no going back, so it made sense to direct her thoughts to those aspects of her unwanted stay in London that would provide satisfaction, enlightenment or entertainment.
She must keep reminding herself that there were scores of young ladies in towns and villages all over the land who would trade places with her in an instant.
By dint of continual repetition of these precepts, Laura had brought herself into a more comfortable acceptance of her lot when she and her mother eventually stepped into a carriage piled with baggage to make the trip to London.