Royal Regard (32 page)

When Michelle returned to take away her tray,
a huge bouquet of pink hydrangea, camellias, snapdragons, and roses
preceded her through the door.

“What is this?”

“The Duke of Wellbridge has sent them, my
lady. Madame Jemison suggests you might enjoy them here.”

Bella pulled aside the thin satin blanket and
rose from a bed so large she couldn’t reach two sides at once, even
stretched out full-length. The gold brocade dressing gown over her
embroidered linen nightrail was almost too heavy in the warm
room,

Once the bouquet had been stationed on the
console table near the door, Bella drifted over to the flowers,
hoping Charlotte wouldn’t insist she send them back. The pink was
so pretty in her newly decorated lilac-colored room. And if the
inherent messages were to be believed, he was pining for her and
wished nothing more than her trust in the sincerity of his
affections.

While Michelle tightened the ropes under the
mattress and straightened the bed linens, pillows, and coverings,
Bella immersed herself in the warm bath, taking with her one
perfect pink rose.

Once Bella had bathed and the tub removed
from the dressing room, Michelle helped her into a fine lawn
chemise, the tightest stays Charlotte would allow her to buy, a
petticoat embroidered with a pattern of spring leaves, and clocked
stockings with green garters. Partially clothed, she sat down in
her dressing room and Michelle draped the combing-out cloth across
her shoulders, to keep loose hair and powder from her linens.

The mirrored dressing table in the sky blue
room was Louis XIV, painted in gilt, detailed with oil landscapes
to match the ceiling and walls, all covered in gold-trimmed murals
from Grecian mythology. The Pomona-green jacquard morning dress she
had requested lay across a soft armchair in the corner, taken from
the matching French
armoire
reflected in the looking glass.
Michelle poured another cup of chocolate, then started Bella’s
morning
toilette
.

Working swiftly and efficiently, Michelle
used rose oil to remove Bella’s nightly
Unction of
Maintenon
, and said, “The skin is lighter already,
non
?
Only a fortnight and you can see your face is much more the
fashion.”

“Yes,” Bella agreed, turning her face from
side to side to gauge the relative whiteness of her skin. “Much
better.”

Michelle took out a basket of other items,
and Bella stuttered, “Oh! You… you bought all of those… I’m
not…well… I’m not accustomed…”

“So you have said,
Madame
. You have
doubts? You are afraid, perhaps, I cannot make you as beautiful as
I say?”

“No. No. It’s not that. I’m just not…” Her
voice grew smaller as she mumbled, “Will it not it appear strange
if I suddenly look pretty?”

“Every woman is a work of art,
Madame
.
There is skill to make one pleasing to the gentleman’s eye. Like a
picture, not so lovely with paint placed on the canvas
pêle
-
mêle,
no respect for the work, but the right
proportions, a light hand, attention to the smallest detail, a
masterpiece is created. And
Madame
, with all humility, I am
a master
artiste
. Should you find I overstate my abilities,
we may remove the cosmetics, and you will be just as always. Does
this meet with your approval? Shall I begin?”

Bella swallowed hard, staring into the mirror
with shaking lips but determined eyes, heart pounding in
anticipation. She drummed her fingers against the seat of her
chair. “Yes. Yes. It can only be an improvement.” With narrowed
eyes, she asked, “I suppose you have done this all in celebration
of the occasion?”

Only the slightest commiserating smile
crossed the maid’s lips when she said, “There is an occasion,
Madame
? I know of nothing special about this day.”

Before Bella could either confirm or deny the
statement, Michelle started applying Milk of Roses to make the skin
appear supple and fresh, followed by cherry-laurel oil around the
eyes, where the lines were deepening since the Huntleighs had
returned to England. Bella screwed up her nose at the bitter smell
of almond, but Michelle just said, “With the fragrances I have
brought from the perfumery, you will not mind so much the scent of
the paints.”

“You must be very careful with the cherry
laurel, Michelle. It is quite poisonous, even in small doses.” She
looked askance at the bottle, but added, “I suppose if one doesn’t
ingest it…”

“Of course that is so,
Madame
, for
many women find it of use in the
toilette
.” She carefully
set the bottle into a drawer.

A small amount of chalk, mixed in the palm of
her hand with rose oil and a dab of Pear’s Bloom, created a beige
tone, just a bit darker than Bella’s face. She traced Bella’s nose
from brow to tip with the blend. Adding more chalk to the mixture,
she smudged the lighter shade onto the sides, rubbing it in to blur
the two colors.

Bella’s nose was suddenly straight and thin,
just like Charlotte’s.

“That is extraordinary, Michelle. Quite
extraordinary.”

“
Non, Madame
,” she said with a wink,
“only a secret French women learn at birth.”

Michelle used the white again on the inside
corners of her eyelids and just below, adding a touch of pearl
powder for shine, visually adding an inch between Bella’s close-set
eyes. A bit of lampblack mixed into the paint in her palm, applied
to the outer eyelid, and the effect was magnified by another
half-inch. A fine brush traced pure lampblack across the edges of
the upper and lower lids, then Michelle mixed ash from a burnt cork
with rose oil for Bella to flutter onto her lashes. Bella’s eyes
looked wider and somehow a clearer blue-green.

“Not
impasto
applied with a palette
knife, you see,” Michelle observed. “We prefer watercolor with
delicate brushes to heavy oils,
non
?” Michelle chuckled.

“I… I suppose so. It is all so… so…”

“
Oui
, is it not?”

Michelle removed the paint from her hand with
a huckaback towel, then took up the Liquid Blooms of Roses, rubbing
it into Bella’s cheekbones. She once more used her hand as a
palette, adding another dab of lampblack to darken the rouge. “You
must draw up the lips like you wish to be kissed,
Madame
.”
As soon as Bella did, Michelle applied the darker rouge just below
the cheekbone, and Bella’s face lost five pounds.

“Perhaps
Madame
does hope to be
kissed?” Michelle smiled slyly. “Hopes to attract a certain
gentleman?”

Bella swallowed. “My husband?” She couldn’t
quite keep the question from her voice.

“Ah, yes, the earl is a very fine man who
will have his head turned by the magnificence of his
comtesse
.”

Bella snorted, “Magnificence. What
fustian.”

“Not at all,
Madame
.” Michelle again
removed the cosmetics from her hand with the towel and reached for
a
cloisonné
box inlaid in yellows and browns.

“For powder,
la farine de riz
is best.
Just a dusting to leave the skin pale and smooth.” She applied the
powder with a large brush, leaving Bella with the prized white skin
she hadn’t had for fifteen years.

Rigge’s Liquid Bloom softened her lips and
gave them a rosy glow. An old-fashioned crescent-moon beauty patch
on her chin drew attention to her plump lips, the one feature of
her face she thought rather pretty. Finally, Michelle produced
belladonna drops, which dilated Bella’s pupils, making her eyes
look deep and mysterious. Before Bella could admonish her, Michelle
said, “I will be cautious,
Madame
; I swear it,” placing the
tiny bottle and dropper in the same drawer as the cherry
laurel.

As she closed the drawer, she announced,
“
Voilà, Madame
. All of the things you say you do not like
about your face have disappeared like magic. You look so very
beautiful, the gentleman callers for whom you take so much trouble
will not be able to resist your charms.”

Michelle set out the curling papers and took
up a hairbrush to remove any tangles from Bella’s slightly damp
hair.

“This isn’t
for
anyone,” Bella
admonished.

“
Non
? Not even for your two lord
dukes?” Michelle asked, as she began to massage pomade through the
fine strands.

“Oh, Heavens,” Bella said, her face pinking
under the powder. “No, of course not. They are not
my
dukes.”

Michelle’s eyes reflected in the mirror were
momentarily sly, with distasteful shades of servility, but her air
of French decadence reasserted itself in moments, leaving Bella to
wonder whether the change had even occurred.

“If I may make so bold,
Madame
,
Monsieur le Duc de Malbourne once was known throughout Alsace for
his skill in the
boudoir
.”

Bella looked away, beads of perspiration
popping out along her hairline. “Oh… yes… I had forgotten… you
lived in the same… region.”

“
Oui
, and all of the girls—even those
like me who would never have reason to cross his path—had silly
dreams of catching his attention. He is oh, so
romantique,
non
?” Michelle used a handkerchief to blot Bella’s face.

“He is… quite… nice. Very nice.”

For a time, they were both quiet, Bella
considering the duke’s myriad charms while Michelle curled her hair
into dozens of ringlets, then caught them into a topknot trailing
curls down her back and across her right shoulder. Of the different
hairstyles Michelle had tried, this was surely Bella’s favorite.
For once in her life, a
coiffure
showed her to advantage. A
properly trained lady’s maid was a revelation.

“The English duke, though, is not without his
charms. His trousers fit so very well, do they not?”

“Oh!” Bella’s mouth dropped open, the back of
her hand pressed to her reddened lips.

“But me, I prefer Frenchmen for my
lovers.”

Bella half-turned in her chair, setting askew
the green ribbon Michelle was tying across the crown of her
head.

“Neither of them is my… I mean to say… I
don’t have a
lover
… That would be… my word, Michelle!” She
thought for a moment about what Charlotte would say in this
situation. “You mustn’t take a lover while you are in my employ,
Michelle. It would not be at all the thing.”

Michelle made no response, only gently turned
Bella back toward the glass, and leaned in closer once the ribbon
was tied. “When a woman reaches a certain age,
Madame
, such
men do not appear so often, no matter the care she takes with her
toilette
.”

Michelle secured Bella’s hair with a pair of
tortoiseshell combs, reviewed the effect one last time, and then
patted the curls to indicate she was finished.

“A lady must consider carefully what
attentions she will encourage, especially when she might soon find
herself in need of a husband.” Michelle carefully removed the
combing-out cape. “Perchance your husband might not be so
disinclined to such an arrangement? He is a man of the world,
non?
Perhaps he will understand you are young and need more
of a man’s attention than he can give?”

“That would be… of course I would never…”

“Understand,
Madame
, I will keep your
confidence. You may call on me to deliver notes, arrange a
clandestine meeting, ease Lord Huntleigh’s doubts. The job of a
lady’s maid is to serve the lady’s interests.”

Bella strengthened her voice and added volume
as she stood. “I love my husband, Michelle, and I insist you never
speak of this again.”

“As you wish,
Madame
.”

“Never speak of it again,” Bella repeated,
her face dark, “or I will dismiss you without a character.”

“
Oui, Madame
. I understand.” Without
further conversation, Michelle helped Bella into the green dress,
then added a Chantilly lace overskirt and silk slippers with a
short heel to match.

“Thank you, Michelle. That will be all. If
you could send Mrs. Jemison up, please, I need to review next
week’s menus.”

“As you please,
Madame
.”

“
Ma chèrie
, you look so
lovely it may stop my heart.”

Bella giggled, “That would be a shame,
Monsieur
, for who, then, would escort me to the museum?” She
touched Malbourne’s sleeve lightly. “And you are not meant to know
who I am.”

Bella was swathed in varicolored silks below
a tight bodice with an unfashionably low waist, showing far more of
her bosom than she ever did. Her hair was hidden underneath a fall
of fake black tresses and a hairpiece of fine gold chains and
semi-precious stones. A silk scarf of scandalous scarlet covered
her face, hiding all but her eyes, outlined in heavy black
paint.