The petite Frenchwoman, her brindled hair scraped back into an unflattering bun, fluttered forward, her tiny hands waving theatrically. “Oh, Lady Althea, Miss Gibson, we are so “appy to see you “ere. I “ave some lovely gowns made up for you to wear whilst I am constructing your new choices.”
Madame ushered her clients to the one uncluttered sofa. “If you will please to sit “ere, I will “ave my girls show you the gowns that are complete.” Emily and Lady Althea sat where directed. There was no sign of either Millie or Serena.
“Where are my girls, Madame? Surely they have not become bored so quickly?”
“Oh no, my lady. They are in the chamber with their nurse, trying on the new clothes with great enthusiasm. Are you ready? I will call my assistants to begin.”
“Can I really select as many outfits as I wish, Mama? Does grandfather have bottomless pockets?”
Lady Althea patted her daughter's hand. “He is one of the warmest men in England, my love, so do not stint yourself. I promise you that I have no intention of doing so. I never thought to have a closet bursting with lovely gowns ever again. I believed that I had forgone such luxuries when I married your dear Papa.”
Emily tensed, waiting for the torrent of tears that always followed such a mention but it didn't come. She smiled.
“I'm certain that he would want you to look beautiful again. Indeed, you're looking better already. I'm sure that in a few weeks you will be feeling fully restored and well enough to travel to London with me.”
“I shall, my love, I shall.” Lady Althea stared intensely at her eldest daughter. “You are also far too thin, my love. We must both endeavour to eat more. Slender is attractive but stick thin, I am afraid, is not.”
Emily giggled. “If I continue to eat as I did this morning I will be the size of a horse in no time” Madame coughed politely, drawing their attention to the entrance of the first of the two mannequins. After two hours even the delight of selecting new gowns was beginning to pall for all the company. They decided to postpone the measuring and fitting for the afternoon.
Lady Althea returned to her rooms promising she would eat before resting. Emily and her sisters found their way back downstairs to the small dining parlour where, they had been informed, a cold collation had been set up for them.
“I have four new dresses, with matching slippers, and bonnets and ribbons as well.” Serena told Emily proudly.
“And I have the same. How many did you select Em?” Millie asked.
“I am now the proud possessor of two morning gowns, two tea dresses, one walking dress with matching pelisse, and one evening gown. I have, naturally, a full complement of slippers, bonnets, reticules and shawls to accompany them. I shall be so smart you will not know me.”
“Mary says we are having lots of other garments made especially. I do not see when we will have time to wear them all. And I expect I will have grown out of them before they are even half worn out.”
“You have to change your outfit every hour, Serena; it is what happens in the ton, is it not, Em?”
Serena looked suitably horrified.
Do not tease your sister, Millie. No, Serena, you do not have to change so often. However, I believe that it is not done to wear the same dress twice in public, but that only applies to adults I am sure.”
The girls stared, open-mouthed. Millie was the first to recover. “But that can not be right. It would mean having hundreds of dresses; no one would have so many. It would be too wasteful.”
“Three hundred and sixty five dresses, if you went out every day.” Serena said with awe. “No wonder we have such enormous closets in our chambers.”
Emily shook her head laughing openly at her sisters. “Don't take me so literally, girls. By “out in public” I meant to a party, ball, or soiree, not walking or driving in the park.”
By the end of the day the Gibson family was exhausted, but they were all well satisfied by the day's events. Madame Ducray was even more so, for she returned to London with an order of such magnitude she would be obliged to take on more seamstresses if it was to be completed on time. It had been arranged that she would deliver the finished items to Westerham within four weeks, in order that any alterations could be made before the party departed for London.
The Earl of Westerham's townhouse was naturally, in the best part of town, away from the noise and pollution of the teeming city streets, but not so far from the park that Sebastian could not exercise his horse, or drive his high-perch phaeton.
He took himself to Whites to tell his acquaintances of his betrothal. It was imperative that the news of the engagement was spread before other gossip arrived in town. Someone was bound to hear about the riding debacle; such an exciting titbit of scandal would be greedily absorbed and hurried on its way.
By the end of the day Sebastian's face was stiff from smiling and his back sore from the congratulatory slapping. No one questioned his choice or his timing; he was the sole heir to a great name and it was his duty to produce sufficient sons to secure the title. What better way than choosing to marry his second cousin?
Too dispirited to join in any card games or attend one of the soirees or musicals to which he had been invited, he returned home. He had done his duty, their reputations were safe. No wedding date had been set, but knowing the earl, it would be sooner rather than later. He scowled as he contemplated his future tied to a young woman with no sense of decorum and a figure like a boy's. She did have lovely eyes and a fine head of hair, but setting up his nursery with such a female did not fill him with enthusiasm.
The next morning he reported to his office at Home Guards and discovered he was required to leave immediately for Belgium. Napoleon had escaped from Elba and was already in Paris, gathering loyal troops as fast as a dog found fleas. Wellington required his immediate services. He caught the next packet to Calais and was safely established on the Duke's staff within less than a week. All thoughts of Emily and their engagement were forgotten in the excitement of preparing for the inevitable battle with the French.
Meanwhile, at Westerham, Lady Althea slowly recovered both her looks and her spirits, even her straggly hair regained its lustre with the judicious use of henna. Emily rode out every day, sometimes with her sisters, sometimes accompanied only by a groom. She got to know her grandfather and finally forgave him for his neglect.
The ring, which had once been her grandmother's, remained unworn on her dresser. When the day came for their departure to London she had all but forgotten that she was engaged. Apart from the arrival of this token, with a brief note, they had received no communication from Viscount Yardley, which bothered her not one jot.
Chapter Eight
The Earl of Westerham asked Emily to visit him privately on the morning scheduled for their departure.
“Sit down, my dear; I am going to miss your company whilst you are in Town. Do not stop away too long.”
“We intend to return for the Yuletide festivities so it will be but five weeks we are absent.”
“Excellent; I have something special planned for you all. I am intending to hold a New Year's masquerade; Serena and Amelia will love it.”
“Will it not be too dark and dangerous for people to travel to Westerham, grandfather?”
He chuckled at her ignorance. “Good heavens, my dear, my guests will already be here. I have invited fifty people to stay. The ball will be to celebrate your forthcoming nuptials.” Emily shivered. “I have noticed Emily, that you do not wear your betrothal ring. Is it a poor fit?”