Finessing Clarissa (9 page)

Bella let out a delighted trill of laughter. ‘How wonderful. Nothing to fear there. You know what a martinet Crispin is.’

To Clarissa’s delight, Yvette had finished a carriage dress of dull green velvet trimmed with gold braid. It had epaulettes, all in the latest fashion, and a saucy shako had been bought to go with it. Under Yvette’s supervision, Hubbard pomaded Clarissa’s hair and curled it in such a way that the shako could be worn at a rakish angle and reveal a luxuriant fall of curls on the right-hand side of her head.

Amy came in to watch the preparations and expressed her approval. ‘What a difference clothes make,’ she said, ‘and Lord Greystone’s generous sum of money will be able to furnish you with many more.’

‘I could make a similar dress for you, Miss Amy,’ said Yvette. ‘This style
à la militaire
is very suitable for tall ladies. If one is tall, one must be very
grande dame.
’

‘I have many fine clothes, Yvette,’ said Amy, delicately averting her eyes from the dressmaker’s swollen girth. ‘You must rest a great deal now.’

‘When is . . . ?’ began Clarissa and then blushed as Hubbard and Amy frowned at her. She had been about to ask when Yvette’s baby was due to arrive but mentioning birth or babies was just as indelicate as mentioning breeches or legs. She did not know that broad-spoken Amy would normally have cheerfully discussed every facet of Yvette’s condition, but Mr Haddon had given her a guilty conscience and she was once more determined to take her job of mentor and chaperone seriously.

‘We have not been concentrating on your deportment, Miss Vevian,’ said Amy. ‘You must hold yourself very straight or we will need to put the backboard on you.’

‘Yes, it is important to stand straight,’ said Yvette with a sly look at Amy, who had taken to slouching of late in an attempt to bring herself down to Mr Randolph’s size.

‘Now, I assume you know the etiquette of driving in a carriage,’ went on Amy, ignoring Yvette. ‘When introduced to people in the Park, you shake hands with your equals if the carriages are close enough, and confine yourself to a common nod if the people are your social inferiors. Do not wait for the gentleman to hand you up. He needs to control the horses. Mount gracefully. Do not discuss politics whatever you do. Some of the most unexpected people are Whigs,’ said Amy, who was a Tory. ‘Do not discuss Napoleon or anything of a military nature. Avoid talking about either religion or the poor. Religion is an inflammatory subject and the poor, a depressing one. You may talk about gowns and fashions and the weather. Above all, do not say anything intelligent. Gentlemen abhor intelligent women. Aim for frailty and weakness of body and mind. It is expected of us.’

‘Lord Greystone was good enough to say he appreciated my advice on certain family matters,’ said Clarissa.

‘Oh, that is quite suitable. Talk of aunts and cousins and things like that. You can also talk of pets, if you have any. A love of a pug dog shows the correct amount of sensibility, though,’ said Amy with a burst of candour, ‘I cannot abide the wheezing, vomiting, urinating creatures myself.’

‘I shall remember what you say,’ said Clarissa with an anxious look at the clock. ‘It lacks only a few minutes to five. Should I not go down and wait in the hall?’

‘No. He will not want to leave his cattle standing for very long outside, but a certain maidenly hesitation is called for. You wait here and we will call you.’

When they had left, Clarissa sat in an agony of anticipation. What if he did not come?

Then a footman scratched at the door and called, ‘The Earl of Greystone is arrived, miss.’

Clarissa shot from the room with such energy that she nearly flattened the footman. She ran to the stairs and headlong down them, nearly lost her footing on the last few stairs and clutched desperately on to the banisters.

Effy rolled her eyes to heaven. The earl turned away and began to talk to Amy, giving Clarissa a chance to compose herself.

Clarissa was very subdued as she sat beside him in his carriage. Why couldn’t she have made a stately entrance?

At a crossing, a light gig darted in front of them and the earl’s horses reared and plunged. He controlled them and spoke to them calmly and firmly. He had immediately placed an arm across Clarissa so she would not fall out. That arm pressed under her bust made Clarissa feel shaky.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked when they moved off again.

‘Yes, my lord,’ said Clarissa.

‘Utter fool. Shouldn’t be allowed on the road. I would make them all pass exams before they were allowed out on the King’s Highway. Are you sure you are all right? You look a trifle pale.’

‘Yes, yes. You see, I did not have enough sleep last night.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Only a silly dream. I was sure I woke up and that there was someone in my room. I cried for help and roused the household and was made to feel very silly.’

‘All this rich London food. Tell me about it.’

‘What? Dinner?’

‘No, silly, your dream.’

‘It was so very real. I dreamt I was dancing and . . . and . . . oh, you know the way embarrassing things can happen in dreams.’

‘Quite. I once had a dream that I was in the royal drawing room minus . . . er . . . a certain part of my clothing.’

‘Oh,’ said Clarissa. She blushed furiously at the wicked picture he had conjured up, remembered what he had looked like naked, and said weakly, ‘Oh’ again.

‘Anyway, go on about your dream.’

‘When this embarrassing thing happened in my dream,’ said Clarissa, ‘I suddenly knew I was dreaming and should wake up. I opened my eyes and then I felt a presence in my bedchamber. I called out, “Who’s there?” and there was a little gasp and then I heard the door open and close.’

‘And then what happened?’

‘I climbed from the bed and lit a branch of candles and held it up. Nothing had been disturbed. Then I shouted for help.’

‘I do not think you were dreaming at all,’ he said. ‘Probably one of the servants was trying to rob you.’

‘I did think that, but Harris, the butler, you know, assured me all the servants’ references had been checked.’

‘I would be on my guard, nonetheless.’

‘What a very comforting gentleman you are,’ said Clarissa with a burst of candour. ‘I am so used to being thought silly, you see.’

‘I don’t think I could ever damn you as silly, Miss Vevian.’

Clarissa let out a sigh of pure pleasure. When they stopped several times beside carriages in the Park and he introduced her to various members of society, she behaved beautifully. She felt like quite a different person and, beside him, almost small.

But her happiness was not to last much longer. A smart barouche approached them, bearing not only Lady Bella and Angela, Dowager Countess of Greystone, but Mrs Deveney and her daughter Chloris.

Lady Bella was bad enough, thought Clarissa dismally, but at least she was the earl’s half-sister. Chloris was another matter entirely. She was as dainty and fragile as Clarissa remembered her to be. Her fair fluffy curls were topped by a ridiculously small straw hat. Her huge blue eyes looked up caressingly at the earl. They all talked for a little and then the earl drove on. ‘Pretty little thing, that Miss Deveney.’

‘Yes, very,’ said Clarissa in a colourless voice. ‘I knew her in Bath. We attended the same seminary. Of course I did not know her very long, for I was asked to leave.’

‘And why was that?’

‘A wretched accident. I upset the bath-water. You see, I fell asleep in the bath. The water soaked through the floor and ruined the ceiling below. The floor could not have been very sound, for the water disappeared through it so quickly. I tore down my bedroom curtains to mop up the mess, but there was little I could do.

‘I do not think you are clumsy,’ he said gently. ‘Perhaps very unlucky. It is an accident that could have easily happened to one of the other young misses.’

‘Not exactly. It was considered most odd in me to want a bath in the first place. Baths are really only for medicinal purposes, you know.’

‘Not in my case, Miss Vevian. I have a French bath with a machine at the head of it which heats the water so that my servants do not have to carry boiling water up from the kitchens. In fact, I am considering improvements to my town house at the end of the Season so that water will be pumped up to all the rooms.’

‘But only three times a week in London, or so I have discovered,’ said Clarissa.

‘Perhaps things will change soon. There are so many new inventions. Now if everyone in London Town were as clean as you, Miss Vevian, we should be in a sorry mess. Fifty thousand hogsheads of water are pumped up by that antiquated machinery on London Bridge every twenty-four hours, although it is only distributed to the houses three times a week on a rota system. That does not go very far as it is. Imagine if the whole population took to keeping themselves clean for a change.’

‘Then they would be forced to do something,’ said Clarissa. ‘Necessity breeds invention.’

‘You should have been a politician.’

‘Not I. I lack the necessary zeal.’

‘As do most of the members of the Houses of Parliament. By the way, what do you think of Napoleon now?’

‘Horrid, detestable man,’ said Clarissa.

‘And yet even Wellington allows he is a great military leader. He even has his followers in this country.’

‘I suppose spy fever will start up again,’ said Clarissa. ‘I can remember, when I was small, seeing a perfectly respectable man being arrested because he had been studying ships in the Avon through a telescope. He was accused of spying – that was, until they discovered he was a magistrate. Why would anyone want to betray their country?’

‘For money.’

‘But poor people are not in a position to ferret out military secrets.’

‘There are members of the
ton
beset by gambling debts. They have ruined their estates and beggared their tenants, but they would do anything rather than be reduced to the straits to which they themselves have reduced so many. But these are serious matters for a sunny day. Are you going to that ball?’

‘I didn’t ask about it,’ said Clarissa, reflecting that she had not been able to think of anything else that day other than going out driving with him.

‘I shall come in for a few moments when we go back. I think you should start your début right away. If the Tribbles and those two gentlemen wish to play cards of an evening, they can play in my home for a change. I shall invite you all to dinner tomorrow night.’

‘That would be wonderful,’ said Clarissa, clasping her hands. ‘Why are you so kind to me?’

‘Because I am sorry for you.’

The radiance vanished from her face and he cursed inwardly. But if he said he wanted to see her again very soon then she might decide his intentions were serious and that would be awkward.

They drove back in silence. Clarissa thought miserably that he might have forgotten about his invitation, but he entered the house with her and requested to see the Tribbles in private.

Amy was already feeling guilty about Clarissa. Now she was made to feel even more guilty. The earl politely asked why it was Miss Vevian had not appeared at any balls or parties if they were supposed to be bringing her out.

‘Because she is not ready yet,’ said Effy.

‘Nonsense. She has delightful manners. Pray, bring her to dinner at my home tomorrow evening. Mr Haddon and Mr Randolph are invited as well – that is, if they are free to accept at such short notice.’

‘We are delighted to accept your invitation,’ said Amy. ‘I do hope we are not putting the dear dowager countess to any trouble.’

‘Not in the slightest. Angela will be delighted.’

‘I was never more furious in my life, Bella,’ said Angela, as she perched on the end of her daughter’s bed that evening. ‘Things look bad. Very bad.’

‘Great clumsy maypole. What can he see in her?’

‘I don’t think he sees anything in her,’ said Angela slowly. ‘I think he is sorry for her. He’s always helping lame ducks. Do you remember that tenant farmer, whatever the man’s name was? His son had the smallpox and Crispin must needs put his life, and ours, at risk by accompanying the physician and sitting with the boy. I pointed out that if the boy died, there would be no one to inherit the farm, the farm would revert to the estate, and he could sell it at a fine profit. He called me vulgar. Me! Perhaps he finds her social gaffes endearing. Oh, that we could make her commit some awful accident. That would surely give him a disgust of her.’

‘What?’ said Bella, hugging her knees and looking at her mother with admiration.

‘Crispin has gone to bed. Come down to the drawing room and let us see if we can think of something.’

Bella pulled on a wrapper and followed her mother downstairs. Angela paced about the drawing room, looking at this and that. ‘I wanted Crispin to redecorate this room. The furniture is so old and unfashionable,’ said Angela, looking at a set of Chippendale chairs with loathing. ‘And look at the curtains. Dingy, my dear. Positively dingy. I’ve prayed that this room would go on fire . . .’

She stopped in her tracks. ‘That’s it. We’ll get clumsy Clarissa to set the room on fire.’

‘Now how can we do that, Mama,’ said Bella crossly. ‘We can hardly hand her a torch and tell her to apply it to the curtains.’

‘Wait a bit! Say we soaked the ends of these curtains in oil and say we contrived to light the end of her scarf . . .’

‘She may not be wearing a scarf.’

‘Nonsense, every fashionable woman wears one of those long scarf things. Say we contrive to set it alight and place her chair right against the curtains . . . Yes. I think that might do the trick.’

‘That’s all very well, but what of our things? What if the whole house goes up in flames?’

‘Then we each get a new wardrobe, silly.’

‘But what of our jewellery and fine lace?’

‘Oh, dear. Let me think.’ Angela sat down and stared into space. ‘We’ll just need to tell our maids that I have a premonition and they are to remove the boxes to the hall during dinner for safety.’

‘Is the house insured?’

‘Of course. Did you not notice the plaque outside the front door? It is insured with the Phoenix.’