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Authors: Candice Hern

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BOOK: A Proper Companion
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"I have always known it as Gloucester House," she
said to Emily, "as it was the home of the Duke of Gloucester for
decades. Not too many years ago, it was bought by the Earl of
Grosvenor, who has apparently spent a fortune renovating the
interior. I've not seen it myself, of course, since I haven't been
to Town in years. But I've heard various reports of either its
supreme elegance or its overblown vulgarity. I shall have to
arrange an invitation and judge for myself."

They soon turned into Upper Brook Street headed
toward Grosvenor Square, which immediately reminded Emily of Queen
Square in Bath, where her friend Lady Mary lived. The square was
surrounded on all four sides with elegant town houses. Although
each was obviously designed separately and therefore did not have
the uniformity of style found in Queen Square or Laura Place, there
was nevertheless a sense of familiarity that comforted Emily. The
square itself was actually a small circular park laid out in a
geometrical design of formal gardens and enclosed by a wrought-iron
fence with elaborate gates in the center of each block. Emily eyed
her new surroundings with pleasure.

The carriages pulled up in front of a large town
house in the middle of the western side of the square. It was of
gray stone and was distinguished by a classical pediment over the
large doorway supported by two Doric columns on either side. There
were three rows of windows above, the second row echoing the
entrance, with small pediments over each window.

Lord Bradleigh's faster curricle had arrived a few
minutes before the other carriages, so that by the time the
dowager's chaise pulled to a stop, liveried footmen and grooms had
spilled onto the street to assist the new arrivals. Although a
footman placed a step beneath the door of the dowager's carriage,
it was the earl who assisted first his grandmother and then Emily
to the ground.

"Welcome back to Bradleigh House, Grandmother," the
earl said as he took the dowager's arm to lead her toward the front
door. "It has been far too long since you have honored us with your
presence."

Emily and Tuttle walked behind, while their fellow
travelers also disembarked. Emily was busy admiring the elegant
facade of Bradleigh House and was therefore oblivious to the
frenzied activity of unloading the carriages that took place behind
her. They were ushered to the spacious entry hall, where they were
met by a tall silver-haired man with a stiff military bearing, who
was introduced as Claypool, the butler. Emily was also introduced
to Mrs. Claypool, the housekeeper, who led the way up the gently
curving stairway to the third level, where the bedroom suites were
located. Emily smiled as she realized that even amidst all the
confusion, Lottie, taking her new duties very seriously, had
followed unobtrusively behind and had commandeered a footman to
help carry up some of the more portable baggage.

Mrs. Claypool signaled to Lottie, indicating which
room had been assigned to Emily, while she escorted the dowager to
her suite. Lottie held the door open, and Emily entered the large
sunny room which was to be her home for the next several weeks.
Lottie quickly scrutinized the room and gave the footman
instructions on where to place the portmanteaux. He immediately
hurried from the room to help with the rest of the baggage.

" 'Tis a lovely room, miss," Lottie said as she
helped Emily out of her pelisse and bonnet.

"Yes," Emily responded distractedly as she surveyed
the spacious room. It was indeed one of the loveliest rooms she had
ever had the pleasure to occupy. It was decorated in various hues
of green, rose pink, and white and was dominated by a large bed
covered in a fine white silk counterpane embroidered with garlands
of ivy leaves. Most of the furniture was of dark wood, and Emily
recognized the elegant lines of Sheraton. She found that she was
immediately comfortable in this obviously English room, so
reminiscent of her mother's taste. It suddenly occurred to her how
truly uncomfortable she had always felt among the elaborate gilded
French furnishings which the dowager preferred.

She sighed with pleasure as she looked around the
room. The far wall was dominated by large three-quarter-length
paned windows overlooking the square below. The shutters were open
and the curtains thrown back so that the room was bathed in
sunlight.

She was overwhelmed. Surely this elegant room was
too grand for someone in her position, although at the same time it
appeared remarkably comfortable and cozy. She wondered if Lord
Bradleigh had commissioned a project of redecoration, or did the
charm and cheerfulness of the room reflect his late mother's taste?
In any case, it was delightful, and since Mrs. Claypool had been
precise in directing her and Lottie to this room, she must assume
that there had been no mistake.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of two
footmen carrying a large heavy trunk, which Emily knew contained
her new wardrobe. While Lottie began to unpack, Emily stepped
across the hall to the dowager's suite, to make sure that she was
settling in comfortably.

The dowager's suite of rooms, consisting of bedroom,
dressing room, and sitting room, was more formal, more ornate in
decor than her own. Perhaps this suite was always held in readiness
for Lady Bradleigh and therefore reflected her special taste.
Shades of blue predominated, and the furniture was all of either
light woods or painted in gilt. The large bed was draped with a
tall tent-like structure of royal blue satin with gold embroidery.
Although Emily much preferred the room she had been assigned, she
did admire the prospect of the large garden which the dowager's
rooms commanded.

Iris and Tuttle appeared to have things well under
control. "I am going to have a brief rest before tea," the dowager
told Emily. "I am thoroughly exhausted from bouncing around like a
rag doll for two days. Go ahead, my dear, and have a rest yourself,
and I will see you in a few hours for tea."

Emily returned to her room to find that Lottie had
completed the unpacking. "Shall I have a bath prepared for you,
miss?" Lottie asked.

"I would love a bath, Lottie. Thank you for
suggesting it."

Lottie beamed with pride at having pleased her new
mistress. She lost no time in ordering that a tub and hot water be
brought up at once. Emily could not help but notice this new quiet
efficiency of Lottie's since they had left Bath. She suspected that
during the long journey Iris, the dowager's abigail, had given
Lottie more than a little advice on the proper behavior for a
lady's maid. Lottie had obviously paid attention and was now
determined to prove her worth.

And so Emily spent the next hour feeling utterly
luxurious and quite spoiled as she soaked in a tub of
lavender-scented bathwater placed before the fire. She was almost
able to forget for the moment that she was a woman in service and
not a lady of leisure. She washed her hair and afterward sat by the
fire brushing it dry. Lottie then helped her into a freshly ironed
dress of pale blue sprigged muslin with a high-necked smocked
bodice and long cased sleeves. Lottie also dressed Emily's still
slightly damp hair into an intricate braided topknot taught her by
Tuttle. During all this time, Lottie had said no more than "Yes,
miss" or "No, miss" or "Whatever you say, miss," so that Emily was
actually beginning to regret the apparent loss of the former
chatterbox.

 

* * *

 

Emily knocked at the dowager's door and found that
she was ready to go down to tea. A few minutes later the two ladies
entered the drawing room with Charlemagne skipping behind. Emily
noted with pleasure that this room was also very much in the
English taste, with an Adamesque fireplace and plaster frieze of
classical figures. Large antique portraits and Italian landscapes
adorned the walls.

The earl had preceded them, and he was in the
company of a dark-haired woman whom Emily did not recognize.

"Louisa, my dear child!" the dowager exclaimed as
she spread her arms in a gesture of welcome. The woman rose,
smiling broadly, and rushed into the dowager's open arms.

"Grandmama!" she cried. "I am so happy to see
you."

"And I you,
ma petite
." The dowager hugged
her granddaughter and then stepped back to look at her. She tilted
Louisa's chin from side to side as she examined her face. "You are
much too brown, my girl. Country life is ruining your complexion.
But," she said, releasing Louisa, "what luck that you are in Town.
Robert must have told you that I am here to give him an engagement
ball."

"Yes," Louisa said breathlessly, "and I can't tell
you when I've been so excited. Imagine our Rob finally tossing the
handkerchief! When we saw his notice in the papers, I convinced
David that we simply had to rush up to Town to meet my future
sister-in-law. And what do we find but that Rob has bolted to Bath!
I was never so provoked." She scowled at Robert, who stood leaning
against the mantel grinning at his sister. "But you're here at
last," she said as her scowl turned into a warm smile, "and I'm
simply beside myself with excitement."

"Louisa, my dear," the dowager said, taking Emily by
the elbow and drawing her forward, "I want you to meet my
companion. Miss Emily Townsend. Emily, this is Robert's sister
Louisa, Viscountess Lavenham."

Emily dipped a curtsy and said, "Lady Lavenham, I am
very pleased to meet you."

"Oh, please, Miss Townsend," Louisa cheerfully
replied, "you mustn't stand on ceremony with me. Why, Grandmama has
written of you so often that I feel you are practically family.
Besides, I feel positively ancient when someone curtsies to me like
that. Please, sit down and be comfortable. My, what a lovely
dress."

She had taken Emily by the arm as she chattered
breathlessly, and led her to a chintz-covered sofa. Before Emily
could respond, Claypool entered with a footman carrying the tea
tray. The dowager claimed a large comfortable chair and settled
Charlemagne next to her. She poured tea as Claypool presented trays
of warm scones, slices of seedcake, and shortbread wedges. Emily
was once again put in mind of the differences between this
household and the dowager's, where standard tea fare usually
consisted of exquisite tiny tarts, petits fours, and intricate puff
pastry confections. Although she had always enjoyed Anatole's
delicate French pastries, she experienced an almost childish
anticipation for the traditional English treats offered by
Claypool. The aroma of the warm scones almost undid her composure,
and she had to force herself not to attack her plate with a very
unladylike enthusiasm.

Conversation centered on Lord Bradleigh's betrothal
as Louisa insisted on hearing every detail, although in her
excitement she interrupted so frequendy that the earl actually
imparted very little information. Unlike her grandmother, Louisa
was very pleased about the earl's marriage, as she had despaired of
her brother ever settling down. As she was not acquainted with the
Windhursts, she had no particular objection to the match. Emily was
pleased that Lady Lavenham's energetic personality eliminated any
need for her to participate in the conversation. She was able to
turn her full attention to the scones.

"When do we meet her, Rob?" Louisa asked. "I have
it!" she exclaimed as the earl was opening his mouth to reply. She
turned to the dowager. "Let's have her to tea tomorrow. Oh, do say
yes! I'm simply dying to meet her."

"I have no objection," the dowager drawled, breaking
off a tiny piece of shortbread, which she fed to Charlemagne, "as
long as Robert doesn't mind." She looked over at the earl for
approval.

"I think it's a fine idea," he said, "as long as you
both behave yourselves. Lou, you must promise to allow Augusta and
Lady Windhurst to say at least one or two words," Lord Bradleigh
said, scowling at his sister, though Emily did not miss the twinkle
in his eyes. "I would not like to give them a disgust of our
family."

"Hmph!" the dowager snorted.

"And
you
, Grandmother," he continued, glaring
at the dowager, "must promise to
try
to be polite to my
betrothed and her mother, and not to look down your nose at Lady
Windhurst with such obvious disdain." He turned to address Emily,
who was daintily spreading a scone with honey and cream. "I think,
Miss Townsend, that you are the only one I can count on to behave
with the proper decorum. I shall have to trust you to rescue the
afternoon from any improper behavior on the part of my female
relations."

"I will do my best, my lord," Emily replied, smiling
as she caught his eye in shared amusement.

"In that case, I shall send a note round to
Cavendish Square inviting the Windhurst ladies for tomorrow," the
earl said, rising to take his leave. "I am engaged for dinner this
evening but will see you all tomorrow, I'm sure." He kissed both
his grandmother and Louisa on the cheek before leaving.

"Louisa, my dear," the dowager said as she lifted
Charlemagne onto her lap, "I hope that you are free tomorrow
morning as Emily and I have much shopping to do. We are building
her a new wardrobe and could use your advice."

"Oh, that would be great fun!" Louisa exclaimed. "I
would love to join you." She turned excitedly to Emily, who was
seated next to her, and grasped her arm. "You simply
must
visit Mrs. Bell's on Charlotte Street. Her designs are all the
rage."

"I had planned on patronizing Madame Cécile, as
always," the dowager declared as she offered another morsel of
shortbread to Charlemagne. "I see no reason to change
modistes."

"Of course Madame Cécile is perfect for
you
,
Grandmama. She knows your tastes and preferences and has a
wonderful flair. But," Louisa said hesitantly, her eyes darting
from the dowager to Emily, "perhaps for Miss Townsend we could just
drop by Charlotte Street? I am sure you will not be
disappointed."

BOOK: A Proper Companion
6.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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