Chapter Fifteen
With Aunt Patience most surprisingly won over by Fitz’s charm offensive and saying she would attend the ball, Georgiana, who hadn’t truly wanted to fall out with her aunt in the first place, felt a decided lifting of her spirits.
She now had a fine trousseau of gowns ordered and the first to arrive was her ballgown on the day before the ball.
Mrs. Bean’s head seamstress delivered it herself at eleven in the morning, just as Georgiana and Fitz were returning from a ride in Hyde Park.
Their horses were sweating as they’d been cantering and had enjoyed a brisk trot back from the park.
Georgiana had been intending to stay to rub down her horse herself, until Fitz pointed out the lady bearing a gown-sized box in the direction their front door.
“It’ll be your ballgown,” he said, rather unnecessarily.
He’d already dismounted and handed his horse over to the waiting groom, and was moving round to help Georgiana down.
He did this every time they rode, and although she was quite capable of dismounting herself, she’d never resisted this show of chivalry.
No one had ever been so chivalrous to her before and she liked it.
She slid down into his arms, the feel of his touch on her waist intoxicating and mixed with a longing that he would go on holding her thus.
But, as usual, he released her quickly, more quickly than she would have liked, as though this was only a service he was performing, and not because he liked doing it.
He’d given no hint that he would have liked to hold onto her for longer, as Fanny had assured her he would as time passed.
“I suppose we’d better go and see,” she said, rather wishing she could accompany the horses round to the stables with their familiar heady aroma of hay and horses.
Fitz held out his hand to her, another thing he’d taken to doing and she’d not objected to, although she was sure it was only out of politeness.
For a rake, or rather for an ex-rake as he seemed to be showing no signs now of suiting that soubriquet, he was comporting himself more and more each day as a gentleman.
She put her hand in his and let him lead her into the house.
Mrs. Bean’s assistant was already waiting in the parlor with her box laid out on the low table. It was indeed a large box.
Fitz did not appear to want to leave them to it though.
Georgiana shot him a frown, as she had no intention of opening the box with him present.
The dress was part of Fanny’s plan and he was not to see it until she made her grand entrance at the ball.
“He won’t be able to resist you when he sees you in this,” Fanny had said at the last fitting.
How much she hoped her friend was correct, although she was beginning to doubt Fitz was ever going to like her more than as a friend.
“We’ll go upstairs to my room,” she said to the assistant, conscious of the expression of disappointment on her husband’s face.
Now, why did he want to see her gown? Perhaps to make sure she wasn’t going to show him up on the night of the ball.
That must be it. She bestowed a smile on him.
“It’s quite all right. Fanny and Harriet have both assured me my gown is the height of fashion. ”
His eyes danced in the way that made her stomach do little flips. “At least my sister didn’t make you go to her own dressmaker. Since middle-age has taken her, she’s inclined to turn up to balls looking like a dog’s dinner.”
Mrs. Bean’s assistant’s eyes widened in obvious shock, but she managed to regain her self-control in a hurry.
Upstairs in her bedroom, Georgiana lifted the lid of the box, gently folded back the delicate tissue paper and looked for the first time upon her finished gown.
Fanny had been quite correct. Mrs. Bean must be the cleverest dressmaker in Town, or the Princess herself would not have chosen her to make some of her trousseau.
On Fanny’s advice, she’d chosen a gown of cream silk as it would show off her skin to perfection, heavily embroidered with silk and pearls, and with a long overskirt of tulle.
Tiny capped sleeves would show off her slender arms and the neckline plunged to reveal what were now becoming more generous breasts than she’d ever had before.
A consequence of her condition. Her secret condition.
Without thinking, she smoothed her hands over her own stomach.
No longer concave as it had once been, but with the gentlest of curves, which would not show under the Empire line gown.
She blessed the current styles as they were perfect for a girl with a secret.
“It’s quite the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
” She looked up at the assistant, a small woman with wisps of grey already showing in her hair, and now thankfully without eyes wide with shock.
“I love the seed pearls in the bodice. I love the whole thing.” Excitement loosened her tongue.
“This is the first ballgown I’ve ever had, and it will always be the best and most loved one. ”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the woman said, her cheeks coloring. “It was me that did the embroidery on it. I’m glad you like it. You’re going to look a picture in it.” She drew aside some more of the tissue paper. “Mrs. Bean said as I should make you a headdress to go with it.”
Georgiana looked at the gossamer fine headdress, like a net of seed pearls and glistening silver embroidery with tiny embroidered flowers.
A gasp escaped her parted lips. “It’s as if you’ve made lace come alive.
You’re so clever. I wish there was something in my life that I could do as well as you do this. ”
The woman blushed some more. “I’m sure there is, ma’am.
” She clearly didn’t know what to say in the face of such praise.
Did not her other clients shower her with this sort of praise?
Georgiana made a silent vow to always thank people who did things like this for her.
Words cost nothing, but praise was welcomed by everyone, no matter how small the service. And this was a great service.
She couldn’t diminish her smile. The impulse to hug the woman had to be controlled as the poor thing was probably unused to her clients behaving in such a way.
But she could reward her with more than just words, especially now she was a young lady of means.
From her reticule she drew five gold sovereigns.
“For the trouble you’ve taken to make me a gown that will be the most beautiful at the ball. ”
The woman hesitated, more color rising to her thin cheeks. “I was only doing my job, ma’am. You don’t need to do that.”
Georgiana shook her head. “Oh, but I do. For yours is a job I could never have the skill to do, and I want you to know how much I appreciate your work.” What would Fitz think when he saw her in this gown?
Might he like her in it as was Fanny’s plan?
How could anyone not like the person apparelled in such splendor and beauty?
Five gold soveriegns was a tiny amount to pay for love.
The woman took the coins. “It’s a pleasure to dress a lady as beautiful as you are, ma’am. That’s reward enough. But I don’t say as this won’t help me and my family a lot.” She tucked the coins away in her own small reticule.
Georgiana nodded in satisfaction. “I hope that it is you who will be working on my other gowns. I shall ask Mrs. Bean to be sure that it is. If you don’t mind my doing so?”
The woman curtseyed. “I should be honored to do so, ma’am, for a lady as lovely as you.
” She just might have been thinking of further gifts which would be coming her way.
Which they would. Could she also, perhaps, provide a layette for the baby when it arrived?
The thought of tiny embroidered gowns and bonnets sent a wave of excitement skittering through Georgiana, and she almost put her hand to her stomach.
Stopping her hand just in time, she instead looked back down at her gown. She’d get Havers up here immediately to hang it up, and hide it from where Fitz’s prying eyes might find it. She was going to make a grand entrance in this and all of it would be just for his benefit.
The following day, she and Fitz rode in the carriage to Cavendish Square in the afternoon with Havers following in a second vehicle escorting the gown in the company of Thewlis who was taking care of Fitz’s evening apparel.
Harriet met Georgiana in the hallway, her expression one of the utmost disgust. “You must come upstairs with me immediately. Just you, not Uncle Fitz.”
Fitz, relief showing on his face, departed to greet his sister, and Harriet hurried Georgiana up the wide staircase and into her bedroom.
A very pink ballgown lay spread over the bed.
“Look what she’s making me wear.”
Georgiana looked. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.
Where on earth had Marianne had this frilly monstrosity made?
She didn’t herself know an awful lot about fashion but pure common sense told her this was not an acceptable dress for a young lady like Harriet to wear.
Possibly a vivacious blonde might get away with it, but not a young lady with aspirations to authorship and the same need for glasses she had herself.
Although she’d already decided to cast aside her glasses for the evening, even if it did mean seeing the world in a kind of blur.
She searched for something to say, but very little came to her. “It’s very…pink.”
Harriet nodded, clearly teetering on the edge of stamping her foot.
“I never wear pink and she knows it. She’s done it on purpose because I’ve told her I refuse to get married just to suit her.
She says it’s an embarrassment to have a daughter who’s an old maid.
An old maid! I might not intend to marry, but I am most certainly not an old maid.
Does anyone call Miss Austen an old maid? Do they?”