Felicity's fashions 6

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Hartley House

Grosvenor Square

25^th March

 

Dear Miss Goyder,

Please accept an invitation to my sister’s birthday party on 28^th inst. It would delight me if you are able to show Helen and Vivienne your clever reconstruction work.  Please inform Trinity that she would be bored to tears by a grown up party, but that I will send you home with some indigestible comestibles, which as I recall are the only reasons anyone under 18 ever willingly attends a party.

Victor Hartley

 

“Now, I don’t think it’s usual to invite the modiste to parties,” said Felicity, showing the invitation to Florence. “It is, however, an official printed invitation with that note scrawled on the back. I declare, his handwriting is worse than my sister’s.”

“My goodness! I hope he does not hope to set you up as a flirt and expect you to be anything improper at all,” said Florence.

“You think he means to give me a slip on the shoulder?” asked Felicity.

“My dear! What a horrible phrase!  Oh, dear, you young things are so forthright,” said Florence. “But I fear he may have got the wrong idea and think you would be happy being a kept woman. And of course, you would resist any such advances!”

“I’m not sure I would, you know,” said Felicity.  “I’m not likely to have any matrimonial prospects as a modiste, and if he asks, I will consider any such offer deeply, and examine the pros and cons.  If it meant dancing attention on him so I could not keep my business, then I would be forced to decline, because when it ended, I would then be destitute, and I could not expect Daisy to pull my irons from the fire. I would have to agree to a written contract for the lease of my time and b...body to make up for loss of earnings.”

“I really do not understand young things of today,” mourned Florence.

“I suspect it is more about having been thoroughly trained into having a good grounding in business ethics over social mores,” said Felicity. “Because one might be ruined socially and still able to survive well enough, but if ruined financially, the more doleful aspects of social ruin must inevitably follow.”

“Oh, my goodness!” said Florence. “I have never considered... of course, I am too old to find myself in such a situation... I had resigned myself to genteel poverty and one meal a day, and Ned promised to find work as a porter or something... but to look at the idea so... so frankly!”

“Well, there are other opportunities than selling one’s body at Covent Garden, but most of them are illegal,” said Felicity. “When Philippa and I were orphaned and it was found that there was no money left, the manor being mortgaged to the hilt, we were too young to understand about prostitution, so we considered becoming burglars and robbing the gamblers who had ruined Papa, though of course, he ruined himself, being an inveterate gamester and quite hopeless at it. Neither of us had the skill to be card sharps, so burglary seemed to us to be our only option.  And then we got a place in Swanley Court, and no longer had to consider pretending to be one person in order to provide an alibi for each other.”

“Oh, my poor child!” said Florence.

“I may be appalled, looking back, but you know, it might have been fun,” said Felicity.

“Felicity!” said Florence.

Felicity giggled.

“We were young hellions,” she said.

 

 

22 Henrietta Street,

March 25^th by hand

 

My lord;

I would be delighted to attend Vivienne’s birthday celebration. I know she had dreams of a fête champêtre for the occasion but the weather scarcely warrants it. She will have to be an exotic butterfly indoors.  This message should come via Peter, who has just moved in next door and is willing, but I hinted that if he held out to pass the note personally, he might be bribed by something edible. The child is growing like a weed, which his mother seems to resent more than see as a need to feed him up, and if I slip him any food, she accuses me of trying to buy his affections. You don’t have a job for him, I suppose? Oh dear, I seem to have inherited my sister’s predilection for collecting waifs and strays. I assure you it is not natural to me as it is to her.

I have been working hard on your sister’s dresses, as your kindness on Saturday has enthused me, and I fear I broke the Sabbath to cut out and start work on the embroidery.  I sent Lillias to purchase some Dhaka muslin, and she is a canny shopper and with all the better qualities folklore endows to the Scots, and I am glad to say that what you gave me for the fabric alone will also cover the cost of both gowns, even with intricate embroidery.

I also exercised a most extreme casuistry with regards to the spoilt gown, as mending was always permitted to us on the Lord’s Day, and it is by nature something after the fashion of mending. The extra piece has been cut out and inserted, and the seams covered with shell-edging. I have yet to re-insert it in the bodice, but I plan to reduce the number of roses in any case and have just three arranged to cover the mend.  I managed to resist the temptation to work yesterday on Good Friday, so I am doing what I might today with Easter Sunday tomorrow.

Trinity is jealously exercising her nimble fingers on the bodice as we speak, and her needle stabs viciously alongside vernacular imprecations I do not entirely follow, regarding any lady dog who would spoil a dress. She is most partisan, bless her. She thanks you in advance for really luscious treats.  I really think that her skill as an artist does demonstrate a greater likelihood of being your niece than a coincidence in appearance, since according to what I have read in history, anyone with ancestry with any pretence at coming over with the Normans scattered their seed across the population with the merry abandon of heavy rain, and such coincidences must surely occur from time to time.

I cannot guarantee I will finish both gowns for Vivienne; but I can show how far it has come. I hope to send Peter with the first on Thursday, or Friday morning at the latest.  But I will not abandon my local clients for more exciting and more profitable work.

Yours sincerely,

Felicity Goyder.

 

“What an amazing work ethic that girl has, and loyalty to her loyal customers, even if not profitable,” said Victor Hartley, tossing Felicity’s reply to Helen. “Don’t show Vivi; the gowns are a surprise to her. I am looking forward to seeing the results of the girl’s mend of that vicious tear.”

“She is very clever,” said Helen. “You know how well she furbished up all my gowns.  She goes round the Jewish quarter to the rag collectors, and purchases torn clothes from them that they cannot sell in order to re-use beads and beaded motifs, and lace and trim of all kinds. Apparently one of her friends at the orphanage is Jewish, and she gave Felicity an introduction, to help her out.”

“She is full of surprises,” said Victor.  “After all, many women in society think nothing of wearing a gown once and throwing it out if it is torn, or receives a stain from wine.”

“Oh! She got a wine stain out of one of my gowns by soaking it in warm white vinegar overnight,” said Helen. “And she said that if it had not worked, it might readily be dyed for very little outlay.”

“I suppose that if the wealthiest women in society showed as much resource and industry, there would be no room for young women like her to make their way in life,” said Victor. “I am going to make her fashionable.”

“You’ll do her no favours inviting her as an equal to Vivienne’s party, then,” said Helen. “If she is a modiste, she will not be welcome in society, and some who see her there will see her as encroaching.”

“Why, emigrées who took up millinery and the like were welcomed in society,” said Victor.

“Those with titles,” said Helen.

“Why, then I will make it a story of her resource, as a lady fallen upon hard times  who refuses to hang on anyone’s sleeve and who has built a profession from her own ability,” said Victor. “I don’t see why society should not accept her, she is perfectly well-born, I did some investigation, a Welsh family which moved some time in the last century.”

Helen had to wonder whether it was possible to juggle being a lady with being at the ordering of other ladies; and concluded that possibly Felicity Goyder could manage it.

 

 

Dempsey, Cagney, and Lacey

Solicitors

Gray’s Inn Road

23^rd March

 

My Lord,

Further to your instructions, I have been able to question the gypsy  known as ‘Stoffer’ of the Smith tribe, or as they sometimes style themselves, Petulengro. A most truculent character, and sadly unsteady, I fancy any child under his care would not be a stranger to blows. By a mixed expedient of threats and bribery, I induced him to reveal that the woman he considered his late wife had taken as a lover a ‘nob’ who remembered only that his name was Vincent. She referred to him as ‘Vinnie’ I believe. She bore the said aristocrat a daughter who was named Trinity, and who was born after the father had left to return to his own people, despite apparent efforts on the part of Stoffer to beat his woman into miscarriage. She appears to have been a good woman who protected her own daughter, but she was weakened by bearing many children and died a year or so ago.  Certain that if the aristocrat had wanted his child, he would have come before, Stoffer decided there was no profit to be had of the unfortunate Trinity, and dumped her on an orphan asylum in London. The depth of his depravity means that this action was almost the best he could do, especially if the girl is now in the employ of someone you consider kindly, since one of his ideas, had he known who her father was, had been to  trick the noble lord into sleeping with her, and then use that as a means of blackmail for the rest of his life. His disappointment that her father was dead and that he could still do the family an ill favour in telling me all I wanted to know was disgusting.  I pretended that her acceptance into the family would reduce a legacy to other members.  However, the child will need to be protected from him trying to get his hands on the fictional legacy I invented, and I am sorry I made a mull of it in using this method.

However, it can be fairly certainly stated that the child Trinity is your brother’s get.

How you proceed from here is up to you.

Lawrence Dempsey.

 

 

Hartley House

Grosvenor Square

25^th March

 

My dear Mrs. Belvoir,

I expect you have heard already from Miss Goyder with regards to a child known as Trinity Smith, whom I believe to be my niece, as the girl is a talented artist. 

I would, pending Trinity’s agreement in this plan, like to enrol her in your school, where I understand her rough edges will be taken in your stride, and no bullying permitted for her lack of knowledge.  I don’t much care if she knows the difference between Tonbridge and Timbuctoo, or which kings belonged to which rose banner, so long as she can learn to speak and write English which will not cause her embarrassment, better, to enjoy literature, and most important to develop her painting talent, something my brother was never able to do for having been the heir. I paint moderately well, as does my sister, who has had some private lessons as well as learning to dabble in watercolours in the way most schools teach them; I am given to understand by Miss Goyder that your art classes are to a higher level than the usual pretty twiddles. I want her to be happy. Whatever your fees may be for orphans who are not indigent, I am happy to pay as well as whatever extras she might wish.

Yours,

Victor, Lord Hartley

 

“Well, I never!” said Libby. “A man quite as brusque as Lucius can be, but with the expressed desire for his niece to have her talent developed and for her to be happy.”

“We should be able to accommodate that,” said Elinor. “And to teach her to sound like a lady and behave like one. We’ve had a few challenges in that respect, after all.”

“A protégé of Felicity Goyder might well have more of the instincts of a lady than some of our choicer spirits nominally born to it,” said Libby, dryly. “I like that he says ‘If Trinity agrees.’ He isn’t packing her off to school just to hide her until she can act the lady.”

“Write and ask him to visit next week; he can bring Felicity as a chaperone, and it will be delightful to see her again,” said Elinor. “And Trinity might as well be placed into the hands of Sarah Ryland, so she meets another of our artists. Sarah is, I believe, a year or so older than Trinity. Trinity is of an age with Amanda Baswin, who was so traumatised by the Oxford school, and it may be that the imp whom Felicity has described will help draw Amanda out of herself. Her older sisters are so close, in age, as well as in feelings, and though they protect her, it is not the same as having a close friend.”

 

Swanley Court School for Impoverished Gentlewomen

27^th March

 

My lord,

I have indeed been in correspondence with Felicity Goyder with regards to Trinity Smith.

I am glad that the child has family willing to acknowledge her, and sensitive to her possible problems adapting.

We have, as a school, covered the education of a number of girls whose upbringing has had but a tenuous connection to their status, and consider that good manners and a nobility in manner towards others is more important than a facade of gentility; however, we do strive to instil a veneer of genteel mannerisms as well, since such things make life easier. We have another talented artist a year or so older than Trinity, who I hope will prove a friend to her, and I intend to ask an older girl to mentor her. Cleopatra was born to the wife of an officer at the battle of the Nile...

“That’s not too much of a stretch, Elinor, dear, is it? He was a petty officer,” said Libby.

“Not at all, and Cleo is a good girl and very caring,” said Elinor. “She has learned to be a lady very well, past the odd burst of Naval vernacular. But then, Hermione, whose brother is a midshipman, also knows that.”

... and she grew up on the gun-deck, and I dare say they will exchange gypsy and naval vernacular, but as long as I do not hear it officially, I shall turn a deaf ear.  Young people take a prurient interest in such things, and I find it better to let them discuss such things than make a big deal out of it and increase the joy of the forbidden.

I look forward to your visit; perhaps next Wednesday, 6^th April, that is, not the Wednesday coming, which may be too short notice for Felicity? I believe Felicity gives her staff a half-day off on that day, but she probably has plans with regards to buying supplies already for this week.

Eliz. Belvoir,

Head Preceptress

 

“Well, at least she has a reasonable expectation of the prurient interests of young people,” said Victor. “And thinks of others; I had not thought that Miss Goyder might use her staff half-day to work herself.”

 

Felicia's fashions 5

 

Chapter 5               

                 

22 Henrietta Street

18^th March

 

Oh, Twin!  What a day.

What a simply awful day.

Well!  Apparently two after noon is early morning for someone like the fair Rosabelle, so I was hanging around, waiting for her to come for her fitting. Florence loved the dress; Mary and Janey squealed in delight at it; Trinity thought it ‘luvverly’ and Lillias and Amy both thought it very fine.  And you can tell from what people don’t say. 

So, anyway, in walked – or rather, stalked – his lordship and that veritable WENCH of his.  I held up the gown.

She screeched, ‘Are you deaf or just stupid? I told you to put flounces on it and flowers round the bottom.’ I said ‘It must be you who were deaf, because I told you that would look vulgar and cheap.’  And then she slapped me.  Well, I slapped her back.  ‘How dare you! You are a menial! I am your superior!’ she screeched.  I said, ‘You are not a lady and I am, you should learn to know your place,’ and she took up my beautiful creation, and ripped it in two!

I fear, Phip, my first impulse was to pick up the sewing shears. I think she saw murder in my eyes, for she retreated behind Lord Hartley, and sneered – yes, actually sneered at me ‘Victor will see you paid for your time and materials.’ And Lord Hartley said, ‘Yes, of course I will, but you have gone too far this time, Rosabelle; and this is goodbye.’ And she actually simpered!!!!! And said ‘Well, shall we find a jeweller, or a proper modiste for my farewell gift?’ I could hardly believe the venal rapacity of the woman, she had just cost him almost three hundred guineas for the best gown I have ever made, and still wanted a gift!  Well, plainly Lord Hartley felt the same about that as I do, for he picked up the gown, and said, ‘This is your farewell gift, Rosabelle; but you saw fit to destroy it.’ She started screeching again, and he took her by the arm to lead her out.  I fear I collapsed, sobbing, onto my chaise longue, for the destruction of my masterpiece.  And then I heard someone beside me, and he said to me, ‘Little girl! I know that paying for your work and materials is no replacement for the beautiful work of art which has been so carelessly destroyed, and I could see in your eyes how she ripped your soul with the fabric, but at least it will pay for the materials to make another as good.’

Hereat I fear I wailed, ‘but it was a remnant length I salvaged!  It wasn’t even a full price piece and she has wantonly destroyed the hard work of those poor weavers! And I put my heart into it, to try to make her look how you wished her to look!’

“Do you want me to pay for it as if it was full price?” he asked. “I am well aware that Dhaka muslin can be as much as four hundred pounds a yard, and I wondered how you could manage such a low price, for it is not the coarsest pick.”

“Of course not!” I snivelled [yes, I fear I snivelled.] “It is not your responsibility to make up for the full price; I was lucky to get a length cheap, for water damage, which I made good with careful washing and stretching. I’ve done the same with some silks as well, because it is a shame that beautiful things should not be used, all for the lack of ingenuity and industry on the part of most folks.”

“You are a busy little bee,” he said, but it was not an insult the way he said it.

I managed to blow my nose.

“If you were as much of a cross-grained grundyguts as your former lady-love, I would have accepted full price reparation, but then, if you were, you wouldn’t have offered,” I said, perhaps a little obscurely. “But most important, you realise that she hurt me in damaging something on which I laboured most carefully.”

“I do understand,” he said. Oh, Phip, how gentle his voice can be. “My brother was a talented artist, and he had drawn a picture of our parents in watercolour. I tried to do the same, and he mocked my efforts, and in a fit of temper, I  threw my own paint water over his.  It was then that he drove out, and never came back for three months.”

I gasped.

“How guilty you must have felt! And how hard to confess to your parents!  And how relieved you must have been when he came back!”

He looked away.

“I never told my parents,” he said. “I was too ashamed. I... I made up with Vince when he did return, and he told me he forgave me, but he had... odd moods.  And the doctors think he died of a clot on the brain caused when he had his accident. So, I have inherited his title, under false pretences, almost.”

“How old were you?” I asked.

“Almost twelve,” he replied. “I mopped up the water, and as his paint had dried, by the time it was fully dry, there was very little damage, and I was good enough to touch it up.  My parents liked it, anyway, and had it framed.”

“There’s a big difference between a little boy reacting to the taunting of a bigger one, and an adult failing to take a few home truths,” I said.

“I still feel guilty, though,” he said. “It’s one reason I want to do right by my family, including Trinity. I took away her Papa.”

“When did he die?”

“Christmas.”

“Well, don’t you think he had almost thirteen years in which to be a Papa for her, and his choice was not to do so,” I said. “And that makes you the better man.”

“Who knows how he would have been, but for the bump on the head.”

I regarded him thoughtfully, my own woe made trivial by what he had suffered.

“Did he commonly mock you for being so many years younger and yet not capable of doing as he did?”

“I... yes, both before and after the accident,” he told me.

“That, if you don’t mind me being blunt, and being accustomed to a lot of different families and how they react to each other, through growing up in a Charity School for orphans, tells me that he was rather spoilt, and your parents never made him be anything else,” I said tartly, but he was laughing at me.

“Oh, do excuse me, I did not mean to laugh,” he said, “But you said ‘if you do not mind me being blunt,’ and my dear girl, you have never been anything but blunt. I like it,” he added, before I could apologise. “I tried my hardest to make it up to Vincent; he never mentioned the picture hung on the wall, though he looked at it for a long time. And he shrugged off my apologies. And my overtures to make it up to him. But he demanded  my presence, almost like his personal servant to run errands, which I gladly did at first, but later, I felt it was a way of punishing me without letting me earn atonement, because he never forgave.  People say how touching it is how close I was to him, but they have no idea.”

“How cruel!” I gasped. “Why, if Rosabelle asked to help me mend the dress, I would accept, and I would do my best to make it lovely for her.”

“What a very different girl you are to Rosabelle, who would never for one moment feel that she owed you any reparation,” he said. “Do you think you can mend it?”

“I... I don’t know,” I stammered. “Will you... thank you,” I said as he passed the ripped dream to me.

“Let me hold it up,” he said, and did so. Oh, Phip! I started crying again when I saw it, and had to sniff hard and blink.  It was ripped right down the centre front. 

“Could you... I don’t know, let in some lace?” he suggested.

“I...” I did not want to tell him I thought that might be tawdry.

“It would be overdone, wouldn’t it?” he said. I was grateful to him for coming to the conclusion himself.

“I have a little of the muslin left over,” I told him. “I had it dyed in the piece, and I was considering using what was over to make a toque for her, if she liked the dress. It’s about a foot wide.  I could let that in, with French seams, and use pink silk to make a shell edging to the seams so that it looks intentional, patch the bodice, and move some of the roses to cover it.  It’s fortunate that it is a pink I can wear, though, since it won’t be saleable.”

Phip, I swear his face lit up.

“You’ll be a picture in it,” he said. “And do you think that your butterfly designs would suit Vivienne?”

“I wanted to do them in yellows, orange , and white, it kept whispering to me,” I told him.

“Well, why don’t you do one each of the designs you showed me, and I’ll pay up front for the one with little gathers to be in Dhakha muslin, and you get that in to make it,” he said. “It’s her birthday next Friday, if that isn’t too soon?”

“I’ll have them ready,” I said.  “I... I am sorry to cry at you. I know gentlemen hate lachrymose females, and I am not generally in the habit of crying.  I miss my twin,” I added impusively.

He looked stricken.

“What happened to her?” he asked.

“Oh! Nothing bad,” I assured him.  “I mean, we’ve never been apart until I set up shop here, and she has gone off to be a governess to the nephews and niece of a Mr. Lionel Samms.”

“Oh? I know a Lionel Samms,” he said. “Fancies himself a bit, but a good chap at bottom.”

“He’s a friend of the husband of a former orphan, who was with us, Anne, who married Earl Wroth.”

“Ellery Morecombe? Very musical?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Oh, I know him, too,” he said. “School, you understand.”

“It does fetch one some eclectic friends, being at school,” I agreed.

“Well, let me settle up, and let you have some funds for some more Dhaka muslin,” he said. “I apologise for encroaching past the line of being professional.”

“I appreciate you making me realise that I can make something out of the gown,” I said. “At least the petticoat did not tear.”

He passed me high denomination bills from a roll of soft which made me giddy, patted me on the shoulder, and left. And to think, I had thought he would leave with his mistress and I would never see him again, and not be able to dress  Vivienne or Helen again.

Anyway, I have crossed and recrossed this, and shed a few tears on it, so I hope you can read it.

Your loving sister,

Felicity.

 

Felsted Hall

21^st  March

 

My darling sister,

Do I smell a ‘case,’ as we used to put it, between you and this Lord Hartley? ‘I would never see him again’ came before any protestations of sewing for his female relatives. You be careful! He seems kind enough, but beware of his kindness extending to being ready to set you up as his mistress and not considering marriage. Now, I’m not saying don’t accept a slip on the shoulder if he offers it, but you ought to think very hard about it before considering taking up something which will ruin you.  If I was you, if he offers, have Daisy find out how he treats his mistresses because she won’t turn a hair if you ask that, where Libby or Elinor would be horrified and would insist that, as a minor, they have control over you and would demand to know his intent. You can imaging Dr. Mac waxing very Scots at him, because he ‘cannae see wha’ for a body cannae treat a young lady wi’ the rrrreeespect due to her [you can imagine him rolling those r’s] and askin’ tae mak’ an honest wumman o’ her, forebye.’

That woman sounds absolutely awful, and I am glad that your viscount or whatever he is managed to think with the brain between his ears not the one kept below the sporran, as you might say.

I strongly suggest you tell the whole to Daisy, because if your Victor decides to flaunt you, as mistress or wife, she’s the sort who will do something spiteful, and Daisy will know exactly what to do if she does, assuming she isn’t off gallivanting with  her Julian somewhere we wouldn’t have a chance of finding on any globe for being too obscure. And if she is, tell Mr. Embury.

I am settling in here, with four lively and intelligent children, who are at least impressed that I do not turn a hair at such things as mice in the slippers and frogs in the bed, other than to scold for cruelty to frogs.

I understand that since their mother died, and Mr. Samms tried introducing governesses who were older than us that they have so far run off half a dozen of them in something less than a year. I do appreciate that they are bereaved and needing to come to terms with having a stranger in the house, but I suspect the first one did something to set off such bad behaviour since they are polite children with a strong sense of fairness.  I will get to the bottom of it, however, and they will not run me off, short of setting fire to me, and I cannot see them doing that.

You will look a picture in your rose gown. I know it. And I am glad to have some of your creations to look stylish as Jenefer is old enough to notice and I am vain enough at my advanced age not to want to look like a dowd.

You will, I am sure, forgive me for breaking off this letter; you know that I am thinking of you, and wishing to hug you. And may I also wish you Happy Easter a little in advance.

Your twin,

Philippa.

 

Felicia's fashions 4cliffie bonus

 

Chapter 4

 

22 Henrietta Street

16^th March

 

Dearest Phip,

To you and only to you, will I admit that I am at very low ebb.  Our next door neighbour is a most unpleasant creature, who makes filthy insinuations; but I have set Mr. Embury on her, for there is nothing Mr. Embury enjoys so much as a nice juicy slander case.  That bad child, Trinity, tied fire crackers to her cloak, and I had to spank her, which I hated doing, and then showed her, in the hearth, how a mere spark makes muslin fly on fire.  She was much upset, but she gave me a cuddle later, and I think does not resent my chastisement.  There is a horrible smell from Miss Timmins’ property, which Trinity swears is the smell of her bad manners, but which I suspect has a more mundane source, and I do not rule out Bailey aiding and abetting my imp in introducing something horrid  somewhere out of reach which is rotting.  I told her that she could wash it down or notice that our business would suffer too. And then, Lord Hartley wanted me to dress his mistress with an opera gown. 

Phip, she is the most awful woman! She looks like a fairy, and I had all sorts of wonderful ideas – can you believe she dismissed a theme of butterflies as bugs??? So I stuck to roses.  And she would have my few meagre yards of Dhaka  muslin, you know, which I got cheap by hanging around the docks and buying water-stained stock and carefully hand-washing it? But it will look lovely with roses on the bodice in white and blush, and the muslin dip-dyed in gradations of rose blush over a pale blue satin petticoat.  She wanted roses around the hem as well, and flounces!  I can’t believe how deedy she wanted it, not an inch of it undecorated instead of letting the fabric speak for itself. Anyway, I’ve been working on it, and Trinity is adept at turning out roses, I settled on silk not chiffon, and had some dyed at one edge to echo the overgown, and it will be sweetly pretty. But I have a bad feeling about all this, and I fancy Lord Hartley can be vindictive, and I fear him trying to ruin me if his lady-love is not pleased.

As Libby says, the Good Lord preserve us from men of consequence.

Well, I will not send out a gown which is less than perfect, whatever the vulgar creature wants, and I will stick to my guns.

Think of me on Saturday morning when she comes for the fitting.

Twin.

                                                                                                         

22 Henrietta Street

17^th March

My dear Miss Timmins,

I fail to see how I can be held to blame for your badly clogged drains, or manners, or whatever it is that causes the smell. Pray, what would you sue me over? Disliking you intensely? Setting my solicitor on you? Allowing my maid to call you ‘Old Curdle-Water’ on the grounds that you could curdle water never mind milk? Why should I care how you feel? You are entirely beneath my notice, and you may take any more of your poisonous little letters to Mr. Embury, my family solicitor. Your problems do not interest me in the slightest.  I have, however, asked my maid, and Bailey, the man of all work, to send down a sufficiency of water to wash away whatever is causing the smell, as this is affecting my business. If this inconveniences you, I don’t really care.

F. Goyder.

 

 

20 Henrietta St

 

My dear Maggie,

How was I to know that chit of a girl who has taken on Flo Piper’s haberdashery was some kind of aristo! The girl looks down her nose, as if she’s better than me, despite having red hair, and looks as if I am something on the sole of her boot. And she has a family solicitor who came to warn me off!

You may be sure I have never had to deal with anyone like that before, normally they cough up to keep me quiet, but one little hint at wrongdoing, and it’s a solicitor all over me, and her little beast of a maid playing practical jokes, and leaving some awful smell somewhere. I’m not going to be able to intimidate her at all, so I might as well come and live with you after all.

Jane Timmins.

 

22 Henrietta Street

17^th  March

 

Dear Phip,

Well, the rose gown is going so well, I am quite putting my soul into it. It will be a thing of beauty.  The other good news is the woman Florence calls ‘Miss Vinegar-face’ and Trinity calls ‘Miss Curdles-water’ is moving, to live with her sister, and may they irritate each other into early graves. Apparently, Florence actually paid her off to stop her spreading rumours that Florence was a madam; we won’t get it back, but I am not stopping Trinity from creeping through the joining attics to introduce some nice fresh herrings into the furniture being boxed up in order for it to travel with her.

I wonder if she knows there is a way from our attic into hers? It takes a slender body to traverse it, but then, Trinity is a piece of chewed twine.

Fee

 

PS I hear Napoleon has all but reached Paris and all have fled before him. I remember telling Libby that Louis XIV was a complete jackanapes, and that any family who were still using the same name after sixteen of them on the trot had to be severely wanting for being unable to think of any other names. I recall she threw the chalk at me, but could not contradict me. So much for the Bourbons.  I suppose we will have to fight Napoleon again as a matter of principle, but I say, give him France, I wouldn’t take it as a gift.

F

 

Hartley House

Grosvenor Square

17^th  March 1815

 

My dear Dempsey,

Correct me if I am wrong, but was it not around 1803 that my brother disappeared for several months before he was found? There was some suggestion that he had spent some time with gypsies after he had an accident in his curricle, and apparently lost his memory.  The doctor held that the wound to his head which he received caused the clot which killed him at Christmas, but he would have been sixteen or seventeen at the time, there being a ridiculous gap between the three of us. Vivienne was five or six, and I was rising twelve. I remember being really worried about Vincent, and got into trouble, running away to look for him.

If I am correct, he took a gypsy lover, because I have happened upon a child of about twelve summers who is the very image of Vivienne. She has a kindly mistress but it is not seemly that my blood should be a maidservant, even one indulged, and even, I suspect, spoiled, like little Trinity. Yes, it is an odd name; I gather, however, not so to gypsies. I do not wish to antagonise her mistress, but perhaps you can make discreet enquiries about the gypsy band who was suspected to have harboured poor Vince, and find out what they know? I do not intend to rush matters.

Sincerely,

Hartley.

 

Hartley House

Grosvenor Square

17^th  March 1815 by hand

 

My dear Miss Goyder,

Hoping this finds you well.

I find myself embarrassed in raising a subject of a delicate nature; but it centres on you maid, Trinity.

Her resemblance to my sister is quite remarkable, and assuming her to be about twelve years old, there was a period in which a member of my family suffered a blow to the head, and vanished for a while. He is thought to have spent some time with a band of gypsies.  Can you let me know, please, what Trinity knows of herself and her origins? I do not want to make any precipitate moves, but if she is my kin, I would not wish to ignore that fact.

Thank you in advance for your kind co-operation.

Hartley

 

“Well, that’s a turn-up and no mistake,” said Felicity. “Trinity, my child, what can you tell me of your life before that awful asylum?”

“Ma was a gypsy, but I didn’t have no pa,” said Trinity. “Ma was shacked up with Stoffer, but he never liked me. When she died, he took me to the asylum and left me there. Is this about me looking like V... Miss Vivienne?”

“It might be,” said Felicity. “But, Trinity!  If you turn out to be related to Lord Hartley, and you prefer to stay here, I won’t make you go with him.  I won’t make you stay, either, so it will be your choice.”

Trinity considered.

“I dunno,” she said. “Would I be a lady?”

“If you are related to him, then you are a lady, and I will treat you as my own little sister. Which I more or less do, anyway,” said Felicity.

She was rewarded with a gamine grin.

 

22 Henrietta street

17^th March by return of messenger

 

Trinity informs me that Stoffer, her mother’s man, was not her father, and that he left her at the asylum from which I retrieved her after her mother died.  I trust you will be able to be more open as I need to know whether to teach Trinity how to be a lady, whether she chooses to go into your household or whether to stay with me. I would certainly recommend a few months at least at the Swanley Court School for Impoverished Gentlewomen which also takes the less impoverished for a fee, and would enable her to make a transition to lady more gently than being put through a rather fast course on the subject without other girls her age to help her. We have had some rough diamonds in our time.

F. Goyder                                                                                                                          

“Rough diamonds! I wonder what she means by that,” said Hartley, throwing the missive to Helen Nuttley, to whom he had spoken of the matter.

“I imagine there are some gently-born families on the verge of poverty, like mine,” said Helen, tartly. “I retained a genteel manner, but it was hard at times. Some gentlefolk live very hand to mouth with a small amount of land which they must cultivate themselves, and then, of course, there are those who have made the investment of joining the army, where wives and children live in and associate with the baggage train.  It must be a brutalising experience. At sea, likewise.”

“My goodness! Yes, I can quite see that,” said Hartley. “If I take the child in, though, I do not want her to feel that she is being packed off to school out of the way until she learns our ways.”

“You will have to engage the aid of Miss Goyder to exercise tact,” said Helen.

“I know; not my strong suit,” said Hartley.   

 

Hartley Ho.

 

Dear Miss Goyder,

Thank you for your measured and reasonable response. I do not want the child to feel I was shuffling her off to school as an embarrassment; but assuming she is my niece, I would like her to have the opportunity to have an education and mix with other girls of her own class, if you think she will not be teased for her upbringing.

It is something we should discuss in consultation with Trinity herself, once my lawyer has found out more.

Hartley.

 

“He might look down his nose... and it’s a very fine nose for looking down, and enters the room ten minutes before he does, but he has his priorities right,” said Felicity, showing the second note to Florence.

“Dear me, yes, indeed,” said Florence. “I am glad he means to do right by her.”

“This is me?” said Trinity.

“This is you,” said Felicity. “I recommended that you might like to go to the school I’ve been attending, and to be honest I was considering asking you if you’d like to go, anyway.”

“School? What for do I need that?” said Trinity.

“Well, I’ve used it to make a fine profit on my starting investment, by knowing what to buy and how to sell, as well as learning fine embroidery, and enough to converse with anyone about current affairs,” said Felicity. “I’m not very good at some lessons, but generally speaking, school has been great fun. I enjoyed it.”

“Right. I can think about it?”

“Certainly. I’ll miss you if you do go, but we can write.” Felicity winked at her. “There is an art teacher, and art is taken seriously.”

“Oh!” said Trinity. “So I could be learned more about drawing?”

“You could be taught more,” said Felicity. “In fact, it would be an absolute crime not to have you taught more, and I am sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Oh, Miss Goyder! You already give me stuff to draw with, and let me have time to draw!”

“But you could learn to draw and paint better,” said Felicity.

 

22 Henrietta Street

17^th  March

 

Dear Phip,

My waif and stray might be going to school at Swanley Court if  she turns out to be related to my illustrious customer for whom I am dressing his sister, her duenna and cousin, and his mistress. The one I complained about.

It would be nice for Trinity who is far too clever to be treated as a menial all her life.  Also, her talent in drawing is so good, it would also be an absolute crime not to teach her more.

Anyway, Hartley has impressed me with his desire to take her wishes into account.

And as for how it goes with his mistress, that’s tomorrow, and I’m trying not to think of it.  Anyone we know would love the gown but she is a strange sort of woman.

I love you, twin.

 

Felicity.

 

22 Henrietta St.

17^th  March

 

Dearest Libby,

The little maid I took on is a prodigy in the talent of drawing and it would be a crime not to train her further.  Moreover, she may turn out to be the niece of Lord Hartley, who has intimated that he will want her to be acknowledged, and educated.  She is still making up her mind whether she wants to go.  She is rough around the edges, but very clever. I fancy Clio might take her on as a protégé.

 

Felicity