A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (95 page)

His youngest sister pulled him away
from the rest of the females, so he watched his mother direct Miss
Matthews to a seat and brush away the assistance of Sophie’s
smelling salts, all from afar.

Charlotte’s chatter never ceased.
Which, of course, he expected. “Why, plenty of perfectly normal
people are afraid of much smaller things, like spiders, you know.
I’d think it not at all surprising to learn that far more people
are afraid of horses than will admit to as much.”

“
Horses?” He swiped a stray
hand across his chin. She’d caused this entire uproar over animals?
She had a cat, for God’s sake. Why should a horse be any more
fear-inducing than an animal that would bite and claw if
cornered?

She passed him a look of pure disdain.
“Well yes, the horses. Do try to keep up, Peter. So we’ll only be
slightly delayed in getting a start to our morning. But as you can
see, Mama has virtually revived Jane already! How delightful. And
we didn’t even require you to play the gallant
gentleman.”

Thank God for small favors.

Peter frowned. “I see.” At precisely
that moment, his barouche rolled around the corner. “I’ll have to
leave you all. Miss Matthews, I trust you’re in good hands with my
mother and sisters.” Mama should be able to, but one ought not put
too much faith in a woman who’d insisted on all of this. “Might you
need my assistance for anything else?” Lord help him if she
did.

Thankfully, she managed a brief shake
of her head and Mama waved him on his way.

After he gained his seat, he took the
reins from his groom and gave the horses a bit of head. One reared
back and whinnied, and Miss Matthews’s head whipped around to stare
with wide eyes. Remarkable. How could the woman be so enamored of
her cat, and yet so frightened of another animal at the same
time?

He drove off toward his man of
business’s office, all the while trying to forget the look of fear
on his houseguest’s face.

Chapter Four

Miss Jenkins poked and prodded at Jane
as she took more measurements. How dreadfully annoying. But, try as
she might, Jane had been unable to convince Cousin Henrietta to
allow her to create her own wardrobe for the Season.

This Miss Jenkins had better do an
excellent job of it.

Of course, if Jane were
being honest with herself (and, dear Lord, she wished she would be
more often, because lying to herself truly created more problems
than it solved), she would have to admit that the work Miss Jenkins
performed
was
rather exceptional—at least the work she had shown them. And
she
had
created
all of the attire that the Hardwicke women currently wore, all of
which was terribly fashionable and immaculate and
impressive.

If she could perform work of the same
quality on even one garment for herself, it would certainly be the
most fabulous piece she had ever worn.

“
Ow!” Drat. The pin that
had just lodged itself in her side might convince her to change her
mind about Miss Jenkins’s abilities, however.

“
Oh dear, miss, I’m so
sorry about that. We’re almost finished now, and I promise it will
be most worth the pain.” The petite modiste pulled smooth peach
silk tighter across Jane’s bosom and placed a few more pins into
position.

“
Really, Jane, you
shouldn’t complain so much,” said Charlotte from across the room,
where one of Miss Jenkins’s assistants was performing the same form
of torture on her. “I daresay I’ve received ten times more sticks
than you today, but have you heard me shouting about it?” The
gorgeous redhead softened her rebuke with a cheeky grin.

“
I suppose I’m just far
more accustomed to giving the pricks than receiving them.” And she
would prefer to keep things in just that manner, thank you very
much.

At least one good thing had come from
their shopping excursion: the Hardwicke women had taken Jane to the
finest millinery shops and haberdashery shops, where she was able
to perform research for her future business. Looking through the
ready-to-wear items and fashion plates at Miss Jenkins’s shop had
also proved helpful, having allowed her to learn some of the trends
in fashions that her future clientele would wish to
purchase.

Jane itched to try her hand at some of
the new stitches she’d seen.

She had covertly purchased some
fabrics for her own work while they shopped, without allowing the
dowager to see what she was doing. A few lengths each of lawn,
silk, and muslin would allow her to practice some of the more
intricate stitches she had discovered. She’d stowed her secret
purchases in her bags alongside the known purchases, until she
could work on them at Hardwicke House without discovery.

If she were to do work that could
attract the most elegant clientele, she would need to perform with
a certain level of expertise on the most current, fashionable
trends. Practice would be vital.

With the calendar Cousin Henrietta was
beginning to fill for her, however, she wondered where she would
find the time. Perhaps she would need to sleep a bit less than
normal. Though, it was true, stitching by candlelight could prove
disastrous.

While they were being fitted at Miss
Jenkins’s shop, Lady Warburton had come in, along with someone both
Sophie and Charlotte had squealed in delight to see. Esther
Bentley, apparently, had been their governess until Charlotte left
the schoolroom, and was now Lady Warburton’s paid companion. While
they all giggled and tittered, Jane’s eye followed Miss Bentley.
The companion was a lovely woman, if a bit drab in dress, when
compared to the finer ladies next to her.

While the modiste and her assistants
fitted Jane and the Hardwicke women for the designs selected for
their gowns, Miss Bentley sat by herself and looked through some of
the older fashion plates and fingering the fabrics she’d apparently
purchased at the milliner’s—cottons in unpopular colors and prints,
and a single length of a rich, mahogany silk velvet.

This, Jane decided, was a
travesty.

As a paid companion, Miss Bentley was
forced to accompany Lady Warburton to events where everyone else in
attendance would be dressed at the height of fashion. She likely
couldn’t afford to pay for the seamstresses to sew her gowns—gowns
which would already stand out for their lack of the nicest fabrics
and newest designs. She would stick out like a swan among
ducklings. Or perhaps more like a duck among swanlings.

Something would certainly have to be
done about that.

Sophie reentered the main room of the
shop and gasped, startling Jane out of her thoughts and plans.
Apparently, it startled Miss Jenkins as well. Another pin found its
new home in Jane’s flesh. This one stung and bled just a
bit.

Double drat.

“
Oh, Jane, you look
ravishing in that shade,” Sophie said. “It enhances your complexion
in such a unique manner. I daresay when that gown is finished, you
will be utterly stunning.”

Such effusive flattery was balderdash,
to be sure, but a flush heated Jane’s cheeks with pride,
nonetheless. “Do you truly believe so? I haven’t ever been so brave
as to wear such a color. It tends to make so many ladies look quite
sickly, you know.” Much as she must have done earlier, when the
horses set her heart to palpitating.

“
True,” cut in Charlotte,
narrowing her eyes on Jane. “But you seem rather the exception than
the rule, especially in comparison to us. Why, if a Hardwicke were
to wear that hue, it would be absolutely ghastly. Gracious, Sophie,
can you imagine it next to
your
hair?” She shuddered violently. “Putrid would be
too kind a description.”

“
Which is why we would
never
dare
to wear
such a color,” said Sophie. “But on you, Jane...well, I’ve never
seen the like. Mama, are you certain she shouldn’t use this fabric
for her presentation to the Queen?”

Cousin Henrietta glanced up from her
fashion plates. “It would be lovely, but we’ve already settled on
an almost-as-lovely pink. Miss Jenkins already measured, pinned,
and set that one aside.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “No, I
believe we should leave that one be, and use the peach for a ball
gown.”

“
Thank you, Your Grace,”
came the muffled reply of Miss Jenkins from her new position
beneath Jane’s skirts.

“
You’re quite welcome.” The
dowager returned to her fashion plates for a moment before: “Oh,
and Miss Jenkins? Will you be able to have this one ready at the
same time as her presentation gown? I believe this would be perfect
for the first ball of the Season...the first time the
ton
lays its collective
eye upon our Jane.”

A chorus of delighted squeals and “Oh,
yes, Mama!” responses came from the sisters. Jane flushed from all
of the attention.

Miss Jenkins placed one final pin and
removed herself from beneath the makeshift skirts of Jane’s
soon-to-be ball gown. “Of course. I’ll have them all ready by then,
Your Grace.”

“
Splendid.” Cousin
Henrietta packed away her fashion plates and the girls began to
collect all of their day’s purchases to return home to Hardwicke
House. Their shopping trip was finally complete.

Jane now owned several ready-made
morning and afternoon dresses, and even a handful of ready-made
evening gowns. The purchases were delightful. An additional
expense—one she had insisted on making for herself—came in the form
of a handful of fashion plates to study (and, of course, the
fabrics and notions she’d already stealthily secreted away beneath
her other purchases).

Many more dresses, gowns,
pelisses, and the like would soon arrive. Her exuberance to begin
studying the newest techniques in fashion threatened to burst free,
which wouldn’t do—then she’d reveal her secret to all and sundry.
She simply
must
contain herself.

The day had turned out to be quite
industrious, if a bit on the extravagant side of things. If only it
hadn’t started in such a poor manner, with the horse
incident.

Drat, drat, drat, why could she not
control her reactions to the huge beasts?

The part that made it all worse was
that the duke had seen the entire fiasco and, clearly, thought her
a fool.

But perhaps his business matters would
continue to prevent him from spending time with the rest of the
family. Such an arrangement would be lovely, indeed. Jane could
hope.

~ * ~

Meg, the devoted girl,
would just not stop
doing
things.

Even as Jane watched with a full-blown
glower, the lady’s maid retrieved another of Jane’s new gowns and
placed it inside the armoire before returning to the small
collection. “These are truly lovely, miss.”

“
Thank you,” Jane said
through clenched teeth. No matter how preposterous the idea of
having a servant all to herself may be, Cousin Henrietta still
refused to budge. The dowager insisted that if Jane was to be
treated as one of her daughters in some respects, she would be
treated as one of her daughters in all respects.

Meg couldn’t be blamed for the
conundrum, so Jane was desperately trying not to hold it against
the poor girl, and to graciously and gracefully accept her
assistance.

Which, at the moment, was
growing increasingly difficult. Jane’s fingers tapped at her side,
searching for something to occupy them.
They
clearly saw no reason they
shouldn’t be allowed to fold her gowns and put them away. Her
fingers were accustomed to far more difficult work than this. Yet,
because she’d been forced to find some task to assign to Meg, her
fingers must remain idle. Watching someone else perform the simple
task was almost more than Jane could bear. She felt lazy—a feeling
she was entirely unaccustomed to.

It most decidedly
did
not
suit her
well. It was uncomfortable on her.

“
This one is exquisite,”
Meg said, pulling the final gown off the stack: a lavender and silk
afternoon dress with a cream lace overlay.

When this dress was removed, it
revealed the lengths of fabrics Jane had purchased to work with on
her own. Drat. She nearly cursed aloud, but managed to stop
herself. Such behavior would have unequivocally alerted the lady’s
maid to something being amiss.

Thankfully, Meg was so enthralled with
examining the gown that she didn’t notice the fabrics left lying.
When she turned to place the gown in the armoire, Jane snatched the
material from atop the bureau and let it fall behind a chest of
drawers.

A knock sounded at the door and Meg
rushed off to answer it before noticing anything out of the
ordinary, returning with Sophie and Charlotte following behind
her.

“
I hope you don’t mind our
intrusion,” Sophie said and slipped into a chintz arm chair. “Char
and I hoped to have some time alone with you, to get to know you.”
She looked at Meg and waited until the servant ducked out of the
dressing room.