Chapter Five #2
“It’s a wonderful place for assemblies. We attend a weekly ball there on Wednesday evenings during the Season.
But that is an entirely new conversation.
Tonight will be a treat, I promise. Do you enjoy poetry?
Lord Byron’s latest poem has just been published, and it is quite the rage.
Rumor has it that he will be there tonight to read.
But I must go find Mama. I’ll send Betty to tell you what time we leave to visit the modiste. ”
Left alone, Fiona decided to search out the music room. In the corner by the fireplace, she was amazed to see a full-size Broadwood piano. A Broadwood!
She lifted the lid and sat on the polished oak bench. The first chords she played told her it was badly out of tune. Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but wait for a tuner.
Madame Brigitte’s establishment was a short carriage ride away.
Fiona tried not to gawk through the window, but it was impossible.
They traveled along the perimeter of Hyde Park, and she watched the parade of fashionable figures, carriages, and groups of riders moving through the manicured grounds.
The Merrick landau was done in black and silver to match the livery and pulled by two showy bay horses.
When they arrived at the modest brick townhouse on the corner of Bruton Street, they were one of two carriages on the curb.
Noon was still early for most members of the ton.
A footman helped them down to the street, while the driver remained on his perch, reins in hand. Valentina led the way into the shop.
Once inside, Fiona was dazzled by the sheer number of bolts and piles of fabric stacked in cabinets along the walls.
Madame Brigitte, a petite woman just past her youth, hurried to meet them.
Her costume was a beautifully cut black wool frock, and she wore a necklace of lustrous pearls over the simple bodice.
“Ah, my dear Lady Merrick and the lovely Miss Merrick! Bonjour! It is always my pleasure to welcome you to 35 Bruton. Marie, put the closed sign on the door, s’il vous plait.”
“You are looking well, Brigitte…I hope you do not work too hard.” Lady Amelia handed the waiting attendant her traveling cloak and muff.
“Bah! The work, it never stops, but that is good, eh? And how is my kind benefactor, your son, the earl? Bah, he is always busy, that one. Too busy to visit here, I know.”
Madame Brigitte glanced over at Fiona, and her shrewd eyes took in the frock, hat, shoes, and gloves, assessing everything in a way that made Fiona which she had kept her challis wrap. “I see you have brought a friend?”
“His Lordship sends his regards. He keeps himself so busy I scarcely see him. This is Miss Rafferty. She is my son’s ward, newly arrived from Dublin. This is her first visit to London, and also her first Season among the ton.”
Brigitte nodded. “Ah, je vois. So we must outfit her superbemont. Such a thing will be my pleasure. You have the figure to wear wonderful clothes, ma chére. Come!”
Hours later, Fiona still stood in her chemise, surrounded by fabric, trim, and lace.
Everything from worsted to serge, velvets, taffeta, and sarsenet to satins in varying hues and patterns.
She had been poked, prodded, and measured until she thought she might scream.
Brigitte and her assistants made much of her “coloration vive” and extolled praise upon her “silhouette élégante.”
Valentina offered advice and a decided opinion against pastels, which she declared “entirely wrong for Fiona’s coloring.”
“So, we will do the cerulean velvet for your riding habit, non? And then two afternoon dresses with a pelisse and redingote, and four evening gowns.”
“That is too much,” Fiona protested. “The dresses I have now will be fine for the daytime. I only need one or two more formal dresses. Lady Amelia, please…”
“Now, dear,” Amelia said briskly. “You must trust that Brigitte and I know what is best. That sounds excellent, Madame. When can you have them ready?”
“Two of the evening gowns the day after tomorrow, the rest within two weeks. That is acceptable, n’est-ce pas?”
“Excellent.”
“And lingerie?” the modiste asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I have some wonderful—”
“No,” Fiona said firmly. “My current selection is of excellent quality. Dublin is quite known for its lace and delicate lawn.” Lord Merrick would not be purchasing her undergarments.
“And the accoutrements? Slippers, hats, reticules. I will arrange it all, oui?”
Amelia spoke quickly before she could intervene. “Perhaps a hat for the habit, and another for the afternoon frocks. A couple of sets of slippers for the evening gowns, and a pair of long gloves and a matching reticule. Right, dear?”
Fiona gave up. She was outflanked and exhausted. Lady Amelia turned back to Brigitte, pulling on her gloves. “I cannot thank you enough, Brigitte. Your taste is impeccable, as always.”
“I am always happy to be of service to the Merrick family. I remember when my address was not so fashionable, and the earl saw my frocks in the window. The rest is, as you say, l’ histoire.
I have a stunning watered silk that would be très belle in a ball gown for Miss Valentina. You will let me do that, will you not?”
“Oh yes, Mama. I should so like something new.”
“Of course, my dear. You have been very patient.” She patted Valentina’s hand. “Brigitte, I see that lovely bolt of sky-blue crepe in the corner. Let’s also add a new spring outfit—perhaps with a sapphire velvet spencer to match?”
“Mais oui, parfaite.” Madame Brigitte bubbled. “As always, Lady Merrick, your taste is exquisite. I will bid you au revoir, and also to the beautiful mademoiselles. It has been my great privilege to serve you, but I have much work to do.”
Lady Amelia dismissed Fiona with a wave of her hand. “You may dress now, my dear. It is nearly two thirty, and we shall have to forego Richard’s offer to ride in the park.”
As she left the modiste, Fiona wondered if the piano tuner had come. She was anxious to return to Merrick House and find out. She still didn’t feel like it was her home, but having a piano to play would certainly help.