Chapter 14
Tea was already ready.
Nancy had spoken with Cook about the ideal pastries and biscuits that would be served to the wives of her husband’s friends.
She had spent the entire morning organizing things, and yesterday she had had a wonderful meeting with Cook to ensure they had all the necessary things like butter and cream to make the flakiest of treats.
The tea leaves were the best that could be purchased in London. She was going to impress these women. She simply had to. After all, they were Pierce’s friends’ wives.
It wasn’t so much that she feared they wouldn’t like her. It was that she feared that she might let Pierce down, that she might disappoint the wives who would then go home and complain to their husbands, and that that would affect the husbands’ relationship with Pierce somehow.
She fussed about the room, which was now decorated to the height of French fashion. She really wished she could be doing other things. She had so much still to organize in this house and then move on to the next.
Eileen strode into the room, her butter-yellow skirts flapping about her strong form and highlighting her blonde curls. “Would you like to look at the list?”
Pansy, in a soft green gown, was behind her. “I have another one about the armory.”
And Victoria followed in a pink frock with a surprising number of ribbons. “And I have one about cutlery. Why do you think the old duke had so much cutlery?” she asked.
“One mustn’t try to understand,” she replied, folding her hands together. “Ours is simply to sort it all out. But I don’t have time for the questions right now. I’m terribly sorry.”
And then, much to her horror, she saw something on their faces she’d never hoped to see.
Disappointment. She’d spent years trying to make sure she never disappointed anyone, and it felt like a blow to her middle, and she couldn’t breathe.
Eileen, Pansy, and Victoria looked quite dire.
“What is it?” she managed.
Eileen gave her a wary look as she fidgeted with her notebook. “It’s our friendship,” she rushed. “It seems to be on death’s door.”
“What?” Nancy exclaimed, horrified.
Pansy studied her list most seriously, though it was clear she wasn’t actually reading it. “We know you’re a duchess now, but we miss you.”
Victoria nodded her affirmation.
She sucked in a breath and then cringed. “Forgive me,” she said. “What do you mean our friendship is on death’s door?”
“Well, you’re a grand lady now,” said Pansy, before she stopped, winced, and added, “Your Grace.”
“Don’t do that,” Nancy exclaimed. “I might be a duchess, but you’re my dear, dear friends. You’ve supported me and been kind, and we’ve eaten cake together and laughed and shared dinner. You’ve all been better than anyone could ever be, certainly better than any countess or…”
“Oh, not very important, am I?” drawled a young lady as she strode in, pulling her travel gloves off.
Nancy groaned inwardly. Oh dear, this was no good start. “That’s not at all what I meant, Lady Seaborough.”
Lady Seaborough came to a stop but a few feet away, her embroidered hem swishing before she fluffed her hair and gave her a grin. “I don’t really care what you mean. But I dearly love to tease, and I’m always happy to make new friends. And these ladies are?”
“We are not ladies at all,” said Pansy. “I am Miss Pansy Croke.”
“And I’m Miss Eileen Riley.”
“And I am Miss Victoria Basilton.”
They nodded and gave identical curtsies.
And suddenly she didn’t know what to do for an awful, terrible, cold minute as more ladies of high station poured in through the door and Everett followed them, announcing their titles one after the other.
Nancy froze. Eileen, Pansy, and Victoria looked at her, and she could see the sadness in their eyes. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that to them.
“These are my friends,” she said, gesturing to the women who had been so essential in her work these many weeks. “And they have helped me a great deal with the organization of this house. They’re remarkable young women. And if you like remarkable young women, you should know them.”
The Countess of Seaborough and the Duchess of Westfort came together and beamed.
“Well, we love meeting capable young ladies,” enthused the Duchess of Westfort. “Do please pour the tea?”
“Oh,” exclaimed Viscountess Skyburn, looking at the teacups. “You don’t have enough cups.”
“I think we need three more, don’t we?” said the Duchess of Westfort.
Nancy suddenly felt a wave of gratitude to these grand women, women she didn’t know, that was powerful and lifted her soul.
In that moment, she realized how nervous she’d been that she would be judged.
But now? She knew that none of them had any wish to look down upon her.
No, these women didn’t look down on anyone.
They knew their power and wished to help, not hurt.
“You wish to have tea with us, my lady?” gasped Pansy.
“Of course,” the duchess said, shrugging her shoulders and causing the ribbon tied just under her bosom to bounce.
“You three look far better company than what we must keep in the ton. My opinion, shared by these other ladies, is that one must keep their mind sharp, you know, and the only way to do that is to have intelligent company. We often lack it, though it is not the fault of the ladies of the ton. It is just how society treats ladies.”
The Duchess of Westfort crossed to one of the striped silk settees and lowered herself without ceremony. “So have a seat. Have a seat, Eileen, and tell us all about Ireland. You must be from Ireland.”
Eileen tensed. “Yes. What exactly would you like to hear?”
“I’ve heard some terrible things and indications that we’re about to withdraw Parliament from Dublin. And I think it’s a terrible idea, don’t you?”
Eileen stared at the Duchess of Westfort, and she quickly cleared her throat. “Yes, I do, Your Grace,” she said.
“Good.” The duchess pursed her lips. “Come by me and let’s talk about it and see what we can do.
I’m not sure there’s anything that can be done, but I have a terrible suspicion that if the Irish Parliament is taken away, well, things will not go well in the next few years.
And, frankly, things are bad enough without adding something so terrible so close to home. ”
Eileen nodded. “You speak with great sense, Your Grace.”
And the two of them sat together upon the settee, heads together, as they discussed the ramifications of Ireland’s politics.
Tears of hope stung Nancy’s eyes as she poured the tea out for all the ladies.
Viscountess Skyburn sidled up to her. “I like mine black,” she said. “I used to like cream, but I am trying to taste things as they are now and see life for what it is, which is really quite challenging these days. But I think it necessary.”
She poured her out a steaming cup of tea and handed it to her. “Being clear-eyed is to be admired. It is the only way to fix that which is amiss.”
“What beautiful cups,” Viscountess Skyburn said, taking the pale blue cup.
“Yes,” said Pansy. “They are one of three hundred sets.”
“Pansy,” Nancy whispered, her stomach tightening.
“Three hundred sets,” the Countess of Seaborough echoed. “I can understand collecting such a beautiful thing,” she said without unkindness.
“He was such an interesting man,” said the viscountess. “I met him when I was a girl.”
“Did you?” Nancy asked, pouring out another cup, careful not to drip any from the silver pot.
“Oh, yes,” the viscountess affirmed as she took her cup and beamed as the aroma filled the air.
Good tea could make anyone smile, after all.
“The duke’s father was a very kind, very good man.
And I can still remember him playing games with us children.
He loved to make us laugh. It was such a pity to see him so sad and reclusive at the end.
I think we all understand why he was like that.
He just couldn’t bear the world without his wife. ”
And she suddenly realized that all the women in the room were ladies of title, but first and foremost, they were kind.
Somehow, that mattered more than anything, and she felt so very lucky. And she was going to prove that she deserved that luck, that she deserved love, that she deserved all of this.