She blushed. “No, grandfather. It is remiss of me but I do not, as a rule, where any jewellery. I am always afraid I will lose it. But I promise I shall put it on immediately.”
“Good girl; people will think it odd of you if you do not display it proudly. I believe Yardley will be returning soon; it is high time you spent some time together.”
“I am looking forward to it,” she lied. She stood up and came across to kiss her benefactor farewell. “I am going to miss you, Grandfather. You must take care of yourself whilst we are gone.”
He patted her cheek affectionately. “I will, minx. And you enjoy yourself; attend as many parties and gatherings as you can, make some new friends. I have given Althea some extra cards so if there are any you wish to add to the house party, you will be free to do so.”
“Thank you; I must go, the carriage is waiting. I must not keep the horses standing, it is cold this morning.”
The Gibson family made good time and arrived at Lessing House by mid-afternoon. There was still sufficient daylight for the girls to exclaim in delight at the place in which they were to reside for the next five weeks. Millie stood on the freshly washed pavement and stared up.
“There are four floors. It takes up quite half the block.” She gazed around the select square on which the house was situated. “It is almost twice the size of all the other dwellings.”
“It is, my love. And it is as luxuriously appointed as Westerham. We will want for nothing, I promise you.”
“May I play in a little garden in the centre, Mama? It has a lawn and flowerbeds and there are statues of ladies in it,” Serena asked.
“I am sure Mary will take you when the weather is fine, if Miss Quenby gives you leave.”
The governess, a sprightly, middle-aged lady of superior knowledge and impeccable references, nodded and smiled. “Your mornings will still be spent on your books, Miss Serena, but I think the afternoons can be given over to visits and excursions. After all this is your first time in our capital city. I am sure Lady Althea wishes you to see as much of it is possible.”
“Indeed I do, Miss Quenby. Miss Gibson and I will be out a deal of the time so I am trusting you to plan a suitable itinerary for my youngest daughters.”
“Miss Quenby has promised she will take us to the Tower and the Vauxhall Gardens. I am so pleased to be here, Mama, I think I might burst.”
“I do hope not, Miss Serena, it would make such a mess on this clean pavement.” Miss Quenby replied smiling.
The London butler, Digby, from his vantage point at the head of the steps, viewed the laughing group with disfavour.
Emily noticed the front door was open and bright candlelight spilling out. “Come along, everyone, I think we should go in.” She noticed the look on the butler's face and realized they had been making a spectacle of themselves, gawping like villagers at a fair.
Digby showed them in and introduced the rest of the staff to Lady Althea. Then they were conducted to their apartments at the far side of the spacious building. In every room welcoming fires burnt merrily and candelabrum glowed with expensive beeswax candles. The youngest girls had been put, with Miss Quenby and Mary, on the attic floor in the nursery wing. They were not impressed.
“Why do we have to be up here? It's cold and dark. Grandfather does not make us sleep in the nurseries.” Serena said crossly.
“Indeed he does not, my loves. Nor shall you this visit.” Lady Althea turned to the housekeeper. “Miss Amelia and Miss Serena will have rooms next to Miss Gibson. And you will find a more comfortable chamber for Miss Quenby.”
“Yes, my lady. I'm sorry, my lady, but Mr Digby believes that children belong in the nursery, not on the second floor.”
Lady Althea smiled. “I quite understand. Mary you can remain up here, Jenny and Edwards can join you. When you have fires burning it will be quite cosy.”
The girls’ belongings were packed and transported back downstairs. It was full dark by the time the party was settled to everyone's satisfaction. After a light supper, served in a pretty withdrawing-room on the first floor, the girls were so tired they went to bed without demure, leaving Emily and her mother alone.
“I think I am going to retire also, my dear, I am fatigued after the journey.” Emily rang the bell and a parlour maid appeared to escort her mother to her rooms.
“I am going to explore for a while. I want to discover the whereabouts of the library and the study. Miss Quenby wishes to use one of them for her lessons.” Emily waited for the young maid to return to guide her downstairs. “Are the rooms on the ground floor not open, Beth?” She asked the girl on the way down the richly carpeted stairs.
“They are, Miss Gibson; but they're for Viscount Yardley's use.” The girl grinned. “You're coming has fair put old Digby out of sorts, I can tell you, miss. He cannot abide either women or children. I am up from Westerham, same as you; all female staff are, including Mrs Lawford. She is under housekeeper back there.” The girl halted in front of a stout door. “This is the library, Miss Gibson. Shall I show you the study too?”
“Yes, please do. Why are there are no flowers anywhere?”
Beth giggled. “Old sour face can't abide flowers neither. Shall I send out for some tomorrow, Miss Gibson?”
“Yes, Lady Althea likes the house to be filled with blooms. Will someone go to Covent Garden for them?”
“That they will, Miss Gibson. If Mrs Lawford allows, I'll go myself, and take a couple of boot boys along with me to carry them.”
Emily decided that the study, although presently unlit and chilly, would be more than adequate for her sister's to take their lessons.
“I can find my way back to my rooms, thank you, Beth, so you can go. I intend to sit in the library for a while and read. I noticed it has a decent fire burning.”
“Very well, Miss Gibson. If you're sure. Goodnight, miss.”
Beth vanished through a door in the panelling, leaving Emily alone outside the library. Feeling a little like an intruder she pushed open the door and went in. The rows of leather bound books were mostly dull and of no interest but she found a volume on the history of London and took that back to a comfortable, deep-seated, leather chair, positioned close to the fire.
She tucked her feet under her, smoothing out the delicate folds of the skirt of her green spotted muslin. She was glad this gown had long sleeves and that she had thought to place a cashmere shawl around her shoulders. The candles she had positioned on the mantelshelf and small side tables bathed her in a golden glow. The combination of warmth and exhaustion caused her head to droop and she fell asleep.
She did not hear the sound of the carriage outside or the bustle as another visitor arrived. She slept through. The candles burned down lower and the fire went out. The cold finally woke her. The feeble glow of the two remaining candle stubs revealed little. Then she felt the heavy weight in her lap and remembered where she was.
She uncurled her legs with difficulty and stumbled to her feet. Her dress was creased and her hair, as usual, was falling down around her face. Crossly she pulled out the remaining pins and shook her head, sending the waist length curls cascading down her back in a russet waterfall.
The large clock, ticking loudly in it's wooden case, told her it was past midnight. Everyone would be asleep. She frowned; why had Jenny not sought her out? Had the girls not missed their usual goodnight embrace?
One of the candles guttered and went out. Quickly Emily snatched up the remaining one; she had to find a room with fresh candles before she was left in the pitch black to grope her way back to her rooms.
The feeble glimmer showed her the door and she opened it quietly, not wishing to wake the household. She stood, holding her candle aloft, staring down the long dark passageway. Then to her delight she saw a crack of yellow escaping from a door further down. It was in the opposite direction to the one she knew she must take but, if there was someone in the room, they could provide her with directions and the necessary illumination.