Chapter Twenty-Two
Lord Richard Extends an Invitation
When Fiona entered the drawing room, Octavia ran up and threw her arms about her waist, hugging her tightly.
“I’ve missed you! It was a lark to be with Aunt Catherine, but Bath is dull as an old nag during the Season!”
“Octavia,” sighed Lady Amelia, “wherever do you find such language?”
She and Richard sat on the blue-and-cream striped sofa, a sheaf of papers between them. He looked up, smiling.
“The stables, no doubt. I shall have to tell Jerome to watch his tongue.”
Octavia loosened her hold on her and skipped to one of the large armchairs by the fire. “Jerome is teaching me to jump fences. He says I’m a right brave bird. And that ain’t no fib.”
Her brother picked up the sheet of paper, scanning the contents. “Yes, Octavia, but I’d rather you be a ladylike bird.”
“Richard! You mustn’t encourage her. We have been compiling a list of guests for the ball, Fiona. I have nearly a hundred fifty names.”
Fiona sat across from Octavia. “Well, I’m sure you know best, but it seems like quite a lot of people to me.”
“Oh, no. The guest list topped two hundred when Emily Cowper gave a ball last Season for her niece’s debut. The Duke of Wellington attended, and there were rumors that the Prince Regent might make an appearance. You’re good friends, Richard…shall we invite him?”
“Prinny always spends Easter hunting at Balmoral, Mother,” he replied absently, still reading. He looked up, frowning. “Must you invite Fellingham?”
“It would be the worst snub imaginable not to include him, Richard, when most of society is on our list.”
“And me!” Octavia crowed. “Richard said I can attend! Just think, Fiona, my first ball! What a crack-up!”
He handed the paper back to his mother. “I said you could stay for the beginning. But that need not happen if this vulgar cant continues.”
Octavia drew a finger across her mouth. “I’ll button it up, I promise.
Mama says I might carry the flowers at your wedding.
Will you and Fiona live here? She could play the piano for us every day!
Have you found a dress yet, Fiona? I’m going to have a taffeta dress, all the way to the floor. Just like a real lady.”
“How wonderful. Your first ball gown. What color shall it be?”
“Pink! I love pink. With lace, like your dress!” She turned to Lady Amelia. “Can I have lace on my dress, Mama? It would be smashing!”
Octavia’s face fell as Miss Ernest came into the room. “Do I have to study now? Do I, Richard? I want to stay and hear about the wedding.”
He smiled at Octavia. “If you wish to have your riding lesson later, yes, you must see to your studies. I promise you shall be the first to hear our plans.”
She ran toward the governess, but on second thought, stopped and made a demure curtsy to her family.
“Very pretty,” approved her brother.
“I’ve been practicing for the ball.”
As they withdrew, Richard turned to Fiona.
“I understand you’ve planned a visit to Madame Brigitte’s.
I have business at home, so I’ll send Jerome to drive you in the phaeton.
” He glanced at his mother. “It looks to be a temperate afternoon, but you may take the closed carriage if you prefer. I’ve secured Saint James’s Church for Easter Sunday. ”
Fiona swallowed hard. She was going to be married in scarcely a month. “A-are you sure? But the banns…”
“They will be in this evening’s paper. Our copy arrives each day by four o’clock. Were you hoping I might have second thoughts, Fiona?”
“Now, Richard, don’t tease your betrothed,” Lady Amelia admonished. “Where on earth can Valentina be? She went upstairs more than a half hour ago.”
“Valentina is home?” Fiona asked, relieved to change the subject.
“Yes, a carriage splashed mud on her dress and she went to change. We have so many things to decide regarding the ball. Flowers, the guest list, the menu. And of course, I must show you the ballroom. We generally keep that part of the house closed off, but it is large and quite lovely. There is even a platform for the musicians. There you are, Valentina. Madame Brigitte is expecting us at half past two.”
Valentina wore a simple pale-blue muslin, but the cut was beautiful and it flattered her fine figure. She bent to warmly kiss Fiona’s cheek. “I’m so happy that you and Richard are to be married. You’ll become my sister in reality.”
Fiona reached up to hug her. “Mo chara milis, not everyone would have welcomed me as you did.”
“Before I call for the carriage, I have an idea in mind.” Richard played with the onyx signet ring on his right hand. “I have a horse—a very good one—racing at Newmarket Saturday.”
Valentina beamed. “Richard, are you offering to take us to Newmarket? I’ve always wanted to go.”
“I cannot imagine why,” he sighed. “It’s a long dusty ride with a short layover at a mediocre posting house. The town is crowded and boisterous during the races, with a preponderance of men and only a few decent lodgings.” He paused, frowning. “On second thought, I take back my offer.”
She flew over to him, playfully striking his broad chest with her fists. “Don’t you dare! We are going, are we not, Fiona? I don’t care if it is a crush.”
He held up his hands to ward off the blows. “I give in. We shall go; I have already planned it. You and Fiona will take my traveling carriage; it is lighter and well-appointed. Denys and I shall travel in the phaeton. We will need a vehicle from which to watch the races.”
“Denys is to accompany us?” Valentina asked joyfully.
“Yes, he is. I am glad that pleases you.”
“Of course, I welcome Denys’s company,” she replied primly. “He is always entertaining.”
Fiona grinned. “What a ‘lark’ as Octavia would say. I’ve heard my father speak of Newmarket often.”
“It’s two-and-a-half-days’ drive if we travel fast and change horses.
This is a preliminary race; the big purses are later in the month, but there will still be plenty of people attending.
I plan to leave early on Saturday. Also, you’ll be pleased to hear, Valentina, that I hired a secretary today. A most efficient young man.”
“I am so glad you took my advice, Richard. I’m sure that shifting some of your responsibilities will help with those dreadful headaches.”
He rose and pulled a watch from his gray silk waistcoat. “Let me call for the carriage, or you’ll be late for the modiste.”
“Valentina, ring for Clara,” Lady Amelia gathered her papers. “We only need to fetch our cloaks and bonnets.”
There were no other clients present at Madame Brigitte’s shop. Lady Amelia must have arranged for their privacy since there was so much to be done for the wedding.
The first order of business was a bridal dress.
Brigitte had several bolts of fabric ready to show, and all were so beautiful that it was difficult to choose.
In the end, Fiona picked an ivory satin with a design of daylilies pressed into the fabric.
She agreed to the modiste’s suggestion of an empire gown with a train several feet long, falling from just under the shoulders.
Rather than a veil, Madame promised an exquisite bonnet of cream silk, with plumes dyed to match the irises in the bouquet. All three women pored over materials for their ball gowns.
Lady Amelia picked out a cameo-pink taffeta for Octavia and a mauve damask for herself. After much indecision, Valentina chose a striking blue crepe for the ball and took her mother’s suggestion for a pale-lavender satin for the wedding.
Fiona looked through the fabrics for a ball gown with little success until Madame Brigitte disappeared into a back room and brought out a package wrapped in tissue. She unraveled a deep-pomegranate silk so fine that it clung to her fingers.
“This has just arrived from Paris and it is quite the rage, cette couleur. I know most jeune filles will wear the paler ones, but perhaps this fabric for the skirt and a bodice of Chantilly lace en vanille and matching ribbons?”
“Oh, my,” breathed Valentina. “Of course, you will take that…it will be stunning with your ebony hair and fair skin.”
Lady Amelia nodded. “A vivid choice, perhaps, but the Countess of Seldon will set fashions.”
“It is lovely,” Fiona agreed.
“Ah, c’est bien! And now, for the trousseau. I have promised your très séduisant earl that my girls will work night and day to complete it.”
She frowned. “Madame, I need but a few things. You must not put yourself out.”
“Quelle absurdité! But that is my pleasure, to make the garments exquise for such a belle jeune fille. You would not deprive me of such happiness, would you?” Brigitte asked in a woeful tone.
“Fiona, it is Richard’s wedding gift to you,” Lady Amelia begged. “You cannot be so ungracious as to refuse.”
She bit her lip, fast regretting her stubbornness about the trousseau.
She certainly did not have the funds to cover such an expense, and it seemed like a small thing to give in to the family’s wishes.
Most women were dependent upon their husbands’ fortunes, weren’t they?
Her present collection was out of style and Madame Brigitte had so many lovely things planned.
“I have l’arrangement parfait with Mrs. Baker, a true artiste of the millinery, and others very good to furnish the accessoires, n’est ce-pas? You will let me handle the details, ma chérie?”
“I don’t wish to be disrespectful, Lady Amelia…” she wavered.
Sensing a crack in her client’s resolve, Brigitte took the opportunity to call her assistants over. “Vite! Vite! Bring the fabrics I have set aside for Mademoiselle Rafferty—I may call you Fiona, yes, ma chère?”
A dozen bolts of fabric appeared in a flash, each more beautiful than the last. Muslins in beautiful pale greens and aquamarines to flatter her coloring; luxurious challis, crepe, and brocades in deeper shades; delicate gauzes and sarsenet in gold and silver.
“Oh, my,” she breathed, fingering a batiste so sheer it could only be for undergarments.
“And the accoutrements…” Madame motioned toward a table covered with cords of delicate laces and rich trims. “Tell me what materials you prefer, and I shall make la magie!”
Fiona left the shop an hour later, completely overwhelmed.
Every part of her body had been measured from head to toe, and a simple list of dresses had grown to include shoes, hats, gloves, stockings, and intimate apparel.
Lady Amelia and Valentina’s encouragement couldn’t entirely take the blame for the multitude of purchases.
Fiona’s weakness for beautiful things had played a large part.
Once she had been so sure she would never accept Richard’s charity, but now she would be his wife. A countess.
Was it all some dream that would vanish tomorrow?