Eye of the Wind (27 page)

‘What are you going to wear? Won’t be easy climbing about on a boat in long skirts.’

‘Oh Lord, I never thought.’ Grabbing a robe, she pulled it around her. ‘Come with me.’

Sarah was bewildered. ‘Where we going? Here, you can’t –’

‘Hush.’ Melissa opened the door, took a quick look both ways, then started along the passage. ‘We’re going to the attic.’

‘Whatever for?’ Sarah hurried along beside her.

‘There are trunks full of my brothers’ clothes up there. We should be able to find something that will fit me.’

‘You’re going to dress up like a man?’ Sarah gasped.

‘You just said I can’t go in long skirts,’ Melissa pointed out. ‘You’re right. I’ll be far safer and much more comfortable in breeches.’

‘Yes, but what if someone sees you? I don’t like it. Truly I don’t. ’Tisn’t right nor proper.’

‘If all goes well, no one
will
see me: only Gabriel and Robert, and they will understand the reason. So stop worrying.’ If all goes well. Fear knotted her stomach.

Twenty minutes later, back in her bedroom, Melissa surveyed the clothes laid out on her bed. Rifling through the trunks they had found breeches, coats, waistcoats, shirts, neckcloths, and boots, and brought down several of everything in different sizes. Stripping to her underwear, Melissa began trying on each garment.

‘As soon as my aunts and uncles have gone I shall retire to bed,’ she said over her shoulder to Sarah, who held a well-cut frock coat of forest green superfine. ‘You must tell Lobb and Mrs Betts that I have overstretched myself, and am running a slight fever. It is nothing to cause concern, but sufficient to keep me in bed for the next two days.’

She flung the coat away. ‘It’s too tight. Let me try that one, the dark blue.’ She turned her back and slipped her arms into the sleeves while Sarah held it. ‘I have left instructions that I am not to be disturbed. You alone are to attend me, and I desire nothing but hot water to wash with, and cool drinks. You must either drink them yourself, or pour them into the slop bucket. You may tell Mrs Betts I have no appetite, otherwise you will have to eat for me as well. Is everything clear?’

‘Yes, miss.’ Sarah surveyed her critically. ‘That dark blue do look handsome. Here, try the grey breeches.’

Melissa surveyed herself in the long glass. As she turned, her hair swung forward over one shoulder and she grabbed it, meaning to toss it back. ‘What shall I do with this?’

‘Braid it up, shall I?’ Stripping off the coat and breeches and setting them to one side, Melissa sat down on the padded velvet stool in front of her dressing-table. She gazed at her reflection for a moment, at the thick black, wavy tresses that tumbled over her breast almost to her waist. She thought of what might happen if they were sighted by another boat, or boarded. Her height, and male attire, aided her disguise as a man. Long hair, even braided around her head, would instantly betray her. Opening a drawer she took out a pair of scissors and handed them to her maid.

‘Cut it off, Sarah.’

Backing away as if she had been offered a live snake, Sarah shook her head. ‘Oh, miss, not your beautiful hair. I can’t.’

Melissa looked at her through the mirror, and shrugged. ‘If you can’t then I’ll have to do it myself. I’m sure to make a terrible mess. Then my aunts will want to know why I keep a maid who has so little idea of fashion –’

‘All right, I’ll do it, though it do grieve me something awful.’ Sarah took the scissors and studied her mistress with a frown. ‘You sure now? ’Cos once it’s off, I can’t put it on again.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Seeing you made up your mind, I can tell you this here new crop is all the rage. Not that I seen it myself, but Mrs Betts have got pictures in the ladies’ magazine she do get from her sister. I must say it look handsome. I reckon it would suit you.’

‘Then you’d better get a move on, Sarah, or my relations will be arriving before I’m ready.’ Sarah picked up a comb, and Melissa closed her eyes against the sting of tears. It was necessary, and she wouldn’t waste time regretting it. But she couldn’t watch. She didn’t look when Sarah told her she had finished cutting, and was just going down to fetch a pitcher of hot water.

‘It will look even better when ’tis washed, miss. I won’t be more than a minute.’ True to her word, she was soon back with the pitcher in one hand and a small jug in the other. ‘While I was waiting for the kettle, I beat the yolk of an egg with a pint of spring water and quarter of a pint of vinegar. Bring your curls up lovely, that will. Bend over the basin.’

‘Now,’ Sarah said, flicking the towel away after rubbing Melissa’s head dry. ‘I’ll just put a comb through it and … There now. What do you think?’

Opening her eyes, Melissa stared at her new image. The short, bubbly curls gave her skull new definition. Feathered onto her forehead and in front of her ears, they made her cheekbones seem higher, her eyes larger. She swallowed.

‘It’s certainly – different. Thank you, Sarah, you’ve done a marvellous job.’

‘You wait till your aunts see it. Be green with envy they will.’

‘Oh my goodness! What’s the time?’ Melissa leapt up from the stool and, while she finished dressing, she gave Sarah more instructions.

‘I shall need enough cold food for two people for two days, and some extra for the journey back as Robert will be with us. You know: bread, cheese, cold meat, pies, tarts, fresh fruit. If Mrs Betts asks, tell her it’s for some poor folk in the village who’ve all been ill and unable to work. I’ll give you my father’s hip flask. I want you to fill it with brandy. You probably know better than I do where Mr Lobb keeps the kegs that Father didn’t pay duty on. If you fill it from one of those, hopefully he won’t notice. If there’s any lemonade left, I’d really appreciate it if you could put some in a bottle for me.’

‘You leave it to me, miss. I’ll have it all ready, and no one the wiser.’

Hearing horses’ hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels, Melissa slipped her feet into black and white kid slippers and adjusted the white plaited lace at the neck of her black silk gown. Then, taking a deep breath, she hurried out of the door Sarah was holding open for her, and flew downstairs.

Crossing the hall, Lobb glanced up, his normally wooden expression softening momentarily.

Self-consciously, Melissa raised one hand to her bare neck, still unused to her head feeling so light.

‘May I say, miss,’ the butler murmured as he passed her on his way to the front door, ‘that you are looking particularly well tonight.’

‘Thank you, Lobb. Just give me a moment.’

She hurried into the drawing room, and when he had seen her seated on one of the chairs near the fireplace, he opened the door. Listening to the sounds of her aunts alighting from the carriage, Melissa breathed slowly and deeply, bracing herself for the ordeal ahead.

She rose from her chair as Lobb announced her guests. Aunt Louisa was, as always, first to enter, swathed in black velvet over black silk. An elaborate turban of black velvet bound with a white bugle bandeau and three black-creped ostrich feathers sat behind a dense bunch of reddish curls at the front of her head. Aunt Sophie followed in black satin and lace. All her hair, except for a fringe of curls on her forehead and in front of her ears, was hidden by a chiffon bandeau decorated with twists of silk, a diamond pin, and several white ostrich plumes. Both kissed the air on either side of Melissa’s checks and she responded automatically to their greetings.

‘My dear –’ Aunt Sophie beamed ‘– you have the new crop! It is very becoming, and suits you well.’

‘I am inclined to agree,’ Aunt Louisa added before Melissa could murmur her thanks for the compliment. ‘Perhaps this new effort with your appearance is a sign you have learnt your lesson at last. It is only to be hoped you have not left it too late.’ Her gaze darted significantly toward James, who had just entered behind her husband and brother-in- law.

‘Surely,’ Melissa remonstrated quietly, ‘it would not have been seemly for me to exhibit too great an interest upon a first meeting.’ Leaving her aunt open-mouthed and speechless, she moved forward to greet her uncles with a curtsy, and offer James her hand.

He bowed over it. ‘Dare I hope, Miss Tregonning –’ he peeped from under his brows as he straightened, pressing her fingers ‘– that you are signalling a change of heart?’

Dropping a curtsy, Melissa withdrew her hand, masking her irritation with a demure smile. ‘It is my earnest wish that the memories you take back to London will be pleasant ones. As for my heart, sir, that is as it ever was.’ Let him make of that what he wished.

The table was a work of art: snowy damask; polished silver; glittering crystal that reflected the flames of the candelabra at either end, and bowls of cream and yellow roses releasing their delicate fragrance into the air. Gilbert served the first course, Lobb poured the wine, and Melissa breathed a sigh of relief as Aunt Louisa held forth on the effects of the cold among her acquaintance.

‘My poor dear Charlotte is quite exhausted. Not a wink of sleep has she had this past se’ennight.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Melissa sympathised. ‘Was she very ill?’

‘She wasn’t ill at all,’ Brinley Tregonning answered drily. ‘It was her son.’

‘Still, she must have been very worried. I imagine that sitting with him while –’

‘Oh no,’ Louisa interrupted. ‘She could not risk infection. Her condition, you know. So she had to surrender him to the attentions of his nurse. A good enough girl in her way, but it’s not the same as a mother’s care. Poor Charlotte, she was beside herself with anxiety.’

Not trusting herself to comment, Melissa simply nodded in what she hoped was an understanding manner, and signalled Lobb to bring the second course.

Mrs Betts had excelled herself. Marcus and Brinley Tregonning were sufficiently impressed to remark upon the rich succulence of the duck, and announced the lobster salad to be the best they had tasted. Acknowledging their compliments and promising she would tell the cook of their pleasure, Melissa noted the tightening around Aunt Louisa’s eyes and mouth and prepared herself for trouble.

‘So –’ Brinley looked up from his plate ‘– still no news from George?’

Melissa shook her head. ‘Not yet. But I’m sure –’

‘I do feel,’ Marcus interrupted, ‘that we have been somewhat remiss in leaving you to deal with so much by yourself.’

Melissa smiled and shook her head. ‘Not at all. No blame can be attached to you. It was my idea. In fact, if you remember, I insisted upon it.’ She ignored Aunt Louisa’s snort.

‘We thought –’ Brinley took up the thread ‘– it would be best to allow you to find out for yourself.’

‘Find out what?’

‘That you are not as clever as you thought you were,’ Louisa answered for him. ‘And that headstrong wilfulness such as you have exhibited only leads to trouble.’

‘Thank you, my dear,’ Brinley said firmly, then turned to Melissa again. ‘I imagine you must have discovered exactly how difficult and demanding it is to handle matters of business.’

Moistening her throat with a sip of wine, Melissa set the glass down with care and gave a thoughtful nod. ‘I admit it has been time-consuming. I think that is because I lack my father’s experience and quick brain. I cannot say it has been
difficult
.’

Aunt Sophie clasped her hands in admiration, while Louisa gasped aloud.

‘Such immodesty is not at all becoming, Melissa. What must James think? ‘

‘While I have no desire to offend my cousin, his good opinion can be of no relevance when it concerns matters of which he is entirely ignorant.’ Smiling sweetly, she glanced at each of them in turn, and felt a thrill of pure pleasure at the uncertainty on their faces.

Marcus cleared his throat. ‘What about this tree felling? How do the trees reach the timber-yard? Are you paying for haulage?’

Melissa shook her head. ‘No. When Mr Nankivell contracted to buy the wood it was part of the agreement that he would use his own wagons to move it.’

‘Was it, by Jove?’ Marcus exchanged a glance with his brother. ‘How does the wood reach the wagons in the first place?’

Relief that she didn’t have to admit to, or lie about, her own involvement allowed Melissa to relax a little. ‘Since my father’s hunters were sold, our groom has had more time, so he and the stable lad spend a few hours each day using two of the farm horses to haul the logs to a collection area where they are picked up by the wagons.’

‘Sold the hunters?’ Brinley began, but Melissa pretended not to hear him.

‘In fact, Mr Rogers has informed me that the estate is showing a healthy profit.’ Smiling, she picked up her knife and fork again. As she resumed her meal she noted the glance her uncles exchanged, and guessed they intended to adopt some of what they had heard on their own properties.

‘What about the packet?’ Brinley enquired.

She set down her cutlery once more, wanting to convey her willingness to answer all their questions. But the fact was that, despite the delicious array of food, she was finding it impossible to eat. Her stomach ached with tension, and each mouthful threatened to choke her.

‘The men are making excellent progress. The ship is now fully planked, the decks have been laid, the gun ports cut, and the superstructure is in place. The steering gear, capstans, and deck fittings have been installed, and the masts will be stepped and rigged at the end of next week. After that has been done she’ll be fitted out internally, the copper sheathing applied to the hull and ballast shipped. Then, once the hull has been painted and the decorative work done, she’ll be ready for launching.’ Melissa smiled. ‘I have every expectation of my mother being home by then to perform the naming.’

As her two uncles and her Aunt Sophie concurred with this hope, Aunt Louisa signalled Lobb to refill her glass.

‘I’m sure James must find such talk of limited interest. Let us change the subject. I must tell you, Melissa, about a party we attended last week. The new fashions are quite alarming. It is not enough that waistbands appear to have risen to the armpits, the dresses are made of such flimsy material that girls are going out in public wearing dresses that are little more than a chemise. It is quite shocking.’