Kathryn Caskie (38 page)

But she would do it. In fact, if she very worked hard, she might even come to terms with her accounts before the last spring leaf unfurled. If not before. She had a Society connection, after all.

“Jenny, are you listening?”

She looked up blankly.

“I need to stop by Bartleby’s and retrieve some ribbon for my lady. Care to join me?” Annie scooped up a guinea from the table and flipped it spinning through the air. She grinned as Jenny opened her palm and caught the coin before it hit the table.

“Why not.” Tossing the glittering coin atop the pile, Jenny cupped her hand and neatly corralled the ten guineas in the silk bag. She looked up and flashed a jubilant smile.

Annie laughed. “Won’t the shop keep be gobsmacked when you actually
pay
ten guineas on your account?”

Jenny winced a little. “Well, maybe not the
full
ten. I think I might stop by the apothecary and fetch a few more supplies.”

Annie’s eyes widened with excitement. “Does this mean you’re going to do it—start a business?”

“A business? Oh, I don’t know.” Moving to the wall hooks, Jenny crowned herself with her new velvet bonnet, then swept her perfectly coordinated pelisse over her shoulder. “But it can’t hurt to have few more pots of…
tingle
cream on hand, now can it?”

Muffling their giggles so they wouldn’t be overhead by the Featherton ladies above stairs, Jenny and Annie headed out the door in the direction of Milsom Street.

“The man is entirely unreasonable!” Jenny jerked the handle hard, slamming Bartleby’s shop door behind her. “Eight guineas I paid him, and still he wouldn’t let me put the pearl earbobs on my account.” With envious eyes, Jenny glanced down at Annie’s neatly tied packet of ribbon.

Annie stuffed the parcel into her basket and drew the linen doily over top as if purposely hiding it from Jenny’s view. “You must owe him an awful lot.”

Jenny shrugged. “I suppose. But I am a loyal customer. He should have more faith.”

“Can I ask … how much you owe?”

“I don’t know really. Dropped all his notices in the dustbin. After all, he needn’t remind
me
that I owe him payment. It is not as if I’ve forgotten.”

“There’s Smith and Company, too, don’t forget. What was it you put on account there?”

“A black bear muff. You should buy one. Most fashionable this season.” Jenny wrinkled her brow as they walked. “I should have brought it today. Would have kept my hands warm as embers.”

Annie sighed. “And then there’s the jeweler on the Lower Walk—a quartet of garnet buttons, wasn’t it?”

“Now you must admit
those
were a bargain. All I need to do is replace the shell buttons with the garnets and my pewter gown will be transformed. Why, I’ve actually saved the cost of a new gown simply by buying the buttons. Really very economical.”

Annie stepped before Jenny and caught her shoulders. “ Just look at you, Jenny. We’re headed for the markets and you’re wearing a pelisse of apple green Kerseymere, vandyked with satin! Why do you do it? What need have you for fine gowns, and trinkets? You are wasting what little money you earn on this nonsense. You are a lady’s
maid,
Jenny. Not a real lady.”

“I
am.”
Jenny caught Annie’s wrists and yanked them from her. “Or I would have been … had my father married Mama. He was a highborn gentleman, you know.”

“Yes, I do know. But, ducks, he
didn’t
marry your mother, and you are not a lady, no matter how you dress and adorn yourself.”

Jenny was about to snap a retort, when the sun reflected off a large shiny object blinding her for an instant. Oh,
bugger!

When her eyes refocused she found herself looking at the most exquisite, certainly the most modish, carriage she’d ever seen in Bath—or even London.

“Gorblimey! Will you look at that, Annie? Have you ever seen anything so grand?” Jenny started slowly toward the conveyance, feeling quite incapable of stopping herself. “Come on, Annie, I have to see inside the cab.”

“Jenny,
no.”
Annie ticked her head toward the first pairing of ebony horses. “The footman. He’s bound to stop you.”

“Oh, botheration. You can keep him busy for me. Come on, Annie, be my friend and chat him up, whilst I just go and have a tiny peek inside, all right?”

“Jenny, you
can’t.”

But Jenny’s boots were already upon the cobbles and she was making her way to the far cab door.

Once Jenny heard the sultry tones of Annie’s voice mingling with those of the footman, she crouched low and skulked around the gleaming carriage. Rising up, she peered wide-eyed through the door’s lower windowpanes.

To her delight, the cab was empty. Now, if only the door was … she pressed the latch down, and the door opened. Jenny smiled and gave a wink to the heavens, for someone up there was certainly looking out for her this day.

The scent of new leather slipped through the crack and she greedily breathed in its essence. Oh, this was better than she’d hoped.

And what with the door being open, this was practically an invitation to slip inside, was it not? Besides, it would hurt no one for her to indulge herself just for a moment.

Jenny glanced warily in both directions, then, confident she’d not be seen, put her foot on the step and eased herself inside the cab.

Oh, it was all simply glorious. She was almost giddy with pleasure as she ran her hand over the interior walls, resplendent with a gold-pressed crimson silk that perfectly set off the dark burgundy leather benches.

Eagerly, she fluttered her fingertips over the leather-wrapped seat, which was quite easily as soft as fresh churned butter. She eased herself back, allowing her bonnet to settle against the headrest. “Oh,
yes,”
she purred. It was like resting on a cloud.

Jenny had just closed her eyes, imagining herself being whisked to the Upper Assembly Rooms for the Fire and Ice Ball this eve, when she heard a man’s stern voice.

“Madam, might I be of some assistance?”

Startled, Jenny snapped her eyes open and jerked her head upright. She blinked into the cool afternoon light streaming through the open door. Outside, on the opposite side of the carriage, stood a huge, kilted gentleman. He was stooping down and peering back at her.

Oh my God. Don’t panic.

Just stay calm.

But already, as she stared back into the man’s dark brown eyes topped with scowling brows, she could feel her heart slamming madly against her ribs.

Lud, what must he think? She knew what she would think if she found a strange woman relaxing in
her
town carriage. Well, if she had one. She’d think the woman was quite mad. Or … maybe a thief.

A thief? Gorblimey.
What if he called a constable?

“I believe ye have mistakenly boarded my carriage,” the Scotsman said with a controlled level of gentility that surprised her. “Might I help ye find yer own, my lady?” He leaned back then and glanced down Milsom Street, grimacing slightly when he obviously saw no other fine conveyance parked upon the cobbles.

“Oh, I—” But no other words were coming. Lord help her.
Think, Jenny, think.

Then, inexplicably, the perfect explanation planted itself in her mind. “Kind, sir,” she managed, lifting her hand weakly to her brow. “Pray, forgive me. My head began to swirl and I needed to sit down. The sensation came upon me so quickly, I was forced to seek my ease inside your carriage.”

“Och, I see.” The Scotsman seemed to take to her words immediately, and his eyes softened with concern. “Has it passed—the spell, I mean?”

She nodded her head and offered a thin smile. “Indeed it has. Just this moment, in fact.” Furtively, Jenny laid her hand on the door latch and pressed down. The door sprung open. “I am sorry to have troubled you. I will go now.”

A look of surprise lit the Scotsman’s eyes, and quite suddenly, he disappeared from the far door.

Jenny shoved the carriage door beside her wide and leapt down, hoping to escape, but the Scotsman had already circled around and caught her elbow before she could flee.

“Please allow me to assist ye by offering a ride to yer home.”

A few yards away, Jenny could see Annie, her eyes wide and mouth gaping, standing with the footman near the lead pair of horses.

Jenny turned back to the Scotsman. “No need, sir.” She wrenched her elbow from his grasp. “My abigail can escort me. I own I have fully regained my strength and my residence is not so far away. Again, I am sorry, sir. Do excuse me.”

With that Jenny shot up the flagway, hooking Annie’s arm as she passed and dragging her along with her.

“Very well, then. Good day,” the gentleman called out in a confused tone as the two women scurried around the corner on their way to Queen Street.

“Lord above! You’re mad, Jenny. I told you not to do it,” Annie lamented. “But no, you climbed inside the bloody town carriage anyway.”

Jenny slowed her step and stilled. “I know, Annie, but the carriage was
so
lovely. You can’t imagine how extraordinary it was. I only wanted to board and see what it felt like to travel like a lady of the ton. Just for a moment.”

“When are you going to give up your impossible dream of becoming a lady? Do you not see the trouble it causes you? You are indebted to half the shopkeepers on Milsom.”

Jenny looked away and shrugged, then urged Annie forward up the walk. “I am well aware of my financial circumstances. But I’ll find a way to pay my debts.”

“Well you had better, before Bath’s markets send the constables after you for stiffing them.”

Jenny focused on the swish of her skirts and the rhythm of her boots as she walked, anything to keep from looking her friend in the eye. Annie was right, of course.

But this time, she might actually be able to do something about her debt. The cream could solve all her worries.

Reaching inside her reticule, Jenny retrieved the two guineas she had left. “Come on, Annie. I need to stop at the dispensing apothecary on Trim Street. I have some supplies to purchase.”

Later that afternoon, above stairs, Jenny fastened the last button of Miss Meredith Merriweather’s ball gown, then tossed the back of her mistress’s skirts into the air, so she could see the luminous effect the sheer, rose-festooned overdress created.

“Oh, you look like an angel, Miss Meredith.” Jenny smiled, proud of her own handiwork. “You’ll be the envy of every lady in attendance.”

Meredith chewed her lip, and twisted a thick coil of copper hair around her finger. “I’m just not sure, Jenny. I think I might like the saffron gown better. This is my very first ball—and even though I’ve not come out yet, I want to look my best. What do you think?”

“Both gowns are lovely, miss. And you know as well as I that ‘tis the woman inside that makes the gown beautiful.”

“I suppose …”

Jenny folded her arms across her chest. Meredith was damned lucky to be allowed to attend any Society event— even in staid old Bath. True, young ladies often were permitted to hone their social skills in the spa city before later coming out in London, but Meredith was a real hoyden.

Meredith peered at her reflection in the cheval mirror, then whirled around to face Jenny who stood behind her. “I wish I could see them both at the same time.” She arched her brows expectantly.

"What do you mean?”

“You and I measure for size more closely than the Brunswick twins. Will you not slip into the saffron gown, then we can both go downstairs to the parlor and let my aunts choose which is best suited for me.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly.” Jenny knew she ought to protest, owing to her position in the household, but goodness, she could barely restrain herself from dashing to the bed and throwing the gown over her head that very moment!

Meredith took Jenny’s hands into her own and pushed her bottom lip outward in a pretty pout. “Please, Jenny. For
me?”

Jenny glanced down at the floor, as if considering the proposition. She counted to ten, for anything less would not be convincing, before returning her gaze to her mistress. “Oh, very well. But only if you explain to your aunts that this was
your
idea, not mine. Wouldn’t want to cause trouble with the ladies, you know.”

Meredith giggled at that. “What a thing to say, Jenny! You’ve been part of this household since you were a child. Why, they think of you more as a daughter than a lady’s maid. Now, raise your arms for me.”

Jenny laughed as Meredith assisted her into the saffron gown. “This exercise will likely all be for naught anyway for I doubt the gown will fit my form.” But of course, she knew it would.

Perfectly in fact.

For more than four days after Mrs. Russell, the modiste, had completed the gown for Meredith, Jenny had secretly sequestered the finery in her own small chamber. Each night she’d withdrawn it carefully from her trunk, eased into it, adding the requisite citrine earbobs and pendant she’d acquired from Smith and Company, then slipped up the stairs to peer by candlelight at her reflection in the cheval mirror.

Meredith fastened the last button then stood side by side with Jenny. They both blinked into the mirror with astonishment.

Jenny could not help but stare at her reflection in the cheval glass. In the daylight, the gown emphasized the golden highlights in her ordinary brown hair, and the vibrant green in her hazel eyes. For the first time in her life, she felt pretty.

She felt… like a lady.

“Oh, Jenny,” Meredith gasped. “You’re ...
beautiful.
I mean it. I always thought you were pretty, but… just look at you. You look like a princess.”

It took Jenny a moment to find her voice. “Well, I don’t look like the old Jenny Penny anymore, that’s for certain.” She gave a small laugh as she turned and dropped a pronounced curtsey to Meredith. “So pleased to meet you, Miss Meredith. I am Lady Genevieve, Countess of Below Stairs.”

Meredith laughed, then turned Jenny to face the mirror once more. “You are truly beautiful.”

Jenny bowed her head, hoping the ridiculous tears swimming along her lashes would remain in place.