felicity's fashions 12

 

Chapter 12

 

Hartley House

A Square in London I forgot its name

Somewhere between Friday and Satterday

 

Dear Sarah,

I am staying here for the weekend acoss I fell asleep at the party. It was a right nice party with good food on a booffee as well as supper, but I was asleep before supper. I woke up in a bed and there was a tray with cold meat and pie and some cold stuff with cream in a glass, coo that was loverly! So as I am awake I will write to you while I eat what is here, coo there are cheesecakes as well, I wouldn’t never of eaten one if I’d known what it was called before but I liked them before Felicity [I know how to spell her now] told me.

I danced with a duke who called me ‘Miss Hartley’ and it was very swell, and he said he didn’t mind my accent as long as I didn’t mind his. He was very old though, at least 30, so he was not angling to be my boo to get his hands on Uncle Victor’s money.

I was announced as the daughter of Vincent Hartley, who is dead, so I can’t kick him in the bits and nut him as he comes down, like Cleo taught us to do with bad men.  And Felicity is going to marry Uncle Victor, so that’s good.

There are a heap of maids here so I expect one of them will take this for me.

Your friend,

Trinity

 

 

 

22 Henrietta Street

April 15^th

 

Dear Philippa,

Well, I have had my presentation to society at a betrothal ball, and most people have been very nice, and declared they never believed the rumours. How much of that was truth and how much was polite fiction I will never know, but at least officially it is now recognised as lies. I hope you will be able to come to the wedding, though we are not getting married until the end of summer.  Long enough before the end of the Summer Term to have some time alone, but close enough to it so that Trinity can spend the holiday with us, and whichever friends she wants to invite, as a family.

Victor gave me a ring as a love-token, it is a sapphire with sapphires set round half of it, and diamonds around the other half, very singular, and he had it made especially to represent the crescent moon.

“Why, you have eaten the rest of it,” I said.

“Of course; you may fill me with delight, but I do have man-sized appetites,” he replied.

Helen was busy apologising to everyone that we speak incomprehensible nonsense at times.

I am glad I am not Helen. How dull to be so prosaic!

And I confess, I am looking forward to a moonlight picnic next week. The weather can scarcely be worse than it was today, with sleet of all things.

Your loving sister,

Felicity

 

oOoOo

 

22 Henrietta St

24^th April.

 

Dearest Philippa,

 

I don’t know if your weather was as bad as ours, but as it was stormy all day yesterday, I had little expectation that we should have our moonlight picnic.

Victor collected me, however, and we drove off to Richmond, and I was hoping to be warm enough in the folly, where I anticipated that we might be trying to picnic, as it has some shelter from strong winds. But no, we went inside, into the ballroom, and it seems that Victor and Dr. Mac had put their heads together, and Victor had paid the children to paint sheets to be forests with some greenery added from the shrubbery. I wonder how Finch, the gardener, took that; though possibly Victor charmed him. Finch is very unobliging to people he takes against and will do anything for anyone he likes, after all. Anyway, one gas lamp was lit, and it had as a shade a parchment globe painted to resemble the moon.  Victor spread a rug on the ground, and oh, Philippa!  He had got, as part of the picnic, a whole wheel of cheese for us to break into to represent the moon.

We talked nonsense, and fed each other, and then we discussed the sordid practicalities of money, and the practical practicalities of spending a honeymoon in his country seat, and then having Trinity and sundry other young girls to stay.

And then, Victor kissed me. And it was even better than last time, and do not tut about pickled onions because there is nothing wrong with kissing people who are pickled onion flavoured if you are also pickled onion flavoured yourself.

I confess that our hands wandered considerably, until a very Scots voice informed us that the moon was aye setting, forebye, and high jeenks shuid come to a mare seemly end wi’oot tae mony havers.

So we meekly packed up and came away. I am looking forward to marrying Victor, and it will probably be as well that I will be very busy getting Hermione and Hannah settled in and trained up to it. Phoebe is to marry a nice Jewish boy her foster parents have found for her, so she will not be joining us, but she seems contented with her Reuben.

Your loving sister,

Felicity.

 

oOoOo

A couple of months later

 

“Goodness, it seems such a long time since our moonlight picnic,” said Felicity, as Victor drove her away from their wedding feast and out towards his country seat by the light of the full moon, rising whilst the sun set.

“At least this one is genuine,” said Victor. “I ordered a lovely day for our wedding on purpose, ahead of time.”

Felicity giggled.

“I enjoyed the previous moonlight night very well,” she said. “And this time we shall not have Dr. Mac to break us apart.”

“I confess, I am relieved that the weather is clement, the idea of driving twenty miles in the pouring rain of a summer storm would be daunting,” said Victor.  “However, are you feeling decadent?”

“I always feel decadent close to you and with the moon shining,” said Felicity.

“There’s a loggia along the wall of the house at the side of the master bedchamber, built by my grandsire, who had Italianate pretensions,” said Victor.

“Were they catching?” asked Felicity, with a straight face.

“Were... no, wench, or I’d have caught Italianate from him, and I haven’t.”

“Oh, I am glad; I’m not sure if it’s curable.”

“It wasn’t for my grandsire, anyway,” said Victor. “He collected as many old masters as he could.”

Felicity giggled.

“I’d rather have one young one,” she said.

“Oh, they’re a stubbornly silent lot,” said Victor.

“Good,” said Felicity. “Now what had the loggia to do with anything?”

“It has a flat roof, and with a bit of chicanery, one can climb out of the window onto it.  I was thinking we might manhandle a mattress out there between us and make love in the moonlight.”

“So long as you don’t suddenly sprout hair all over and grow big teeth like that fellow in the Latin story,” said Felicity. “What? I’m no great scholar, but I know a good story when I read it.”

 “I solemnly declare that I am not a werewolf,” said Victor. “I don’t even have a very hairy chest.”

“You have little curls above your trouser waistband where your shirt tucks in,” said Felicity.

“Oh, my dear, I’m not sure I’m going to last twenty miles.”

“You are, and so will I,” said Felicity. “Make the nags go faster.”

“They’ll go quicker if they go steady so they don’t need resting; didn’t your horsy twin teach you that?”

“Well, yes.  How fast are we going?”

“A good steady ten miles an hour. And we will be there by dinner time, and dinner is bespoken.”

“And we will sit at each end of a huge table requiring the telegraph to converse,” said Felicity.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then, when we are in there, I am going to take off my stockings and give them to you to keep warm throughout dinner,” said Felicity, recklessly. “And see how decadent you can feel.”

“I feel as decadent as a despot already,” said Victor.  “Sorry we have to travel to get there; perhaps we should have had our wedding night in Grosvenor Square.”

“Not at all; Helen would have been hearty at us early in the morning, and I can handle early in the morning but not after I have been up all night. And I hope we will be up all night?” asked Felicity.

“Up, and down, and up, and down... and so on,” said Victor, occasioning a blush from Felicity. “What a pretty blush!”

“So’s yours,” retorted Felicity. “As bright as the sunset. The sunset is going to be spectacular to drive into; we could almost be driving up a sunbeam into its fiery realms.”

“Careful; the moon will be jealous,” said Victor.

“Oh, we cannot have that,” said Felicity. “Your seat is in the wrong direction.”

“I’m sorry about that,” said Victor. “I didn’t have a choice about it.”

“Oh, well, it is a minor fault in a husband, and I forgive it,” said Felicity, gaily. They bowled on as the sky darkened behind them and the last vestiges of the sun sank below the horizon in a display of splendid colours.

 “I ordered that for you, as well,” said Victor.

“What a glorious dress it would be,” said Felicity, dreamily. “I’m not sure whether to make it a bright darkish blue with applique from the hem up, giving weight, and with the colours added there, or whether to have a golden bodice on the blue, and partial skirts of the different bright colours at one side descending randomly down over the gown.”

“Do both,” said Victor. “But after our honeymoon.”

“I can remember the colours,” said Felicity.

“Good,” said Victor. “I’m not sharing  you with your talent.” 

 

 

The country seat was something of an ordeal, as Felicity must meet and greet the servants, and find something nice to say, and to be ensconced at the foot of the table, with Victor at its head, and a well-wrought, but intrusive epergne between them.

Felicity firmly moved her cutlery beside him.

“I am not sharing you with anyone, even the cheekiest satyr in the world and his nymphs,” she said, firmly.

“No, by Jove, they are frisky but very much in the way,” said Victor. “I will sit opposite you this way round, where your wickedly bare feet can reach me under the table.”

The young couple did not do justice to the repast, though Felicity thanked the cook very prettily and suffered herself to be led to the Mistress suite, also decorated in the Italianate style with trompe l’oielle paintings of Tuscan countryside seen through painted window frames and trellis work. Felicity had to admit she had seen more over-decorated houses. 

 

A little later, Felicity had washed, brushed her teeth, put on a nightgown of the sort which was supposed to be taken off, and joined her husband in manhandling a feather mattress out of the big window, followed by sheets and pillows and a light comforter in case it turned chilly.

The young couple were both giggling when they jumped into bed and started exploring new territory under the moonlight.

Both managed to howl at the moon as creditably as if they had, indeed been werewolves.

 

A long time later, Felicity snuggled up to her husband.

“It’s a bit chilly,” she said.

“Do you want me to go and look for another blanket?” asked Victor.

“Don’t be silly, Victor, I want to check that exercise warms one up,” said Felicity.

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry I was stupid,” said Victor. “But fair’s fair, I did all the work up to now, it’s time you took a turn driving.”

“Can you still see the moon?”

“Very clearly.”

“Well, then, you must stay very still whilst I drive because you don’t want to curdle it by moving too much.”

“I’ll show you curdle!”

 

 

 I just wrapped 'The Purloined Parure' for Alex and Ida; I was considering taking the weekend off before posting, but I can probably have my arm bent.