Authors: Kathryn Caskie
But at her words, meant only to glean another compliment, the viscount glowered at her. "I assure ye, my lady, I never speak
anything
but the truth. You may take my words as gospel."
Jenny was stunned by the sheer strength of his response. "Oh!
I
—
I
beg your pardon, my lord. I only mean
t
—"
"I agree with Lord Argyll," twittered Lady Viola.
"
The gown suits you perfectly. I vow you and young Meredith will be the talk of the ball."
23
No doubt,
Jenny thought. Jenny Penny, lady's maid, mingling with the
ton
at the Fire and Ice Ball at the Upper Assembly Rooms. That alone will send the
ton
into an uproar. Still, she had to own, she was exceedingly excited by the prospect.
Over the next few minutes, Jenny paid little attention to the ensuing conversation. For if the ladies were serious about allowing her to go to the bal
l
—
a
nd of course they were, for such an exploit was just the sort of thing that sent their blood racin
g
—
J
enny had a bucket full of preparation awaiting her.
Her knees wobbled beneath her flowing skirts in anticipation. Oh, how she longed to rush below stairs and begin her toilet.
She'd bring the gold-shot tapestry reticule, of course. Oh, and she had to wear the red satin mules with the marigold trim. She smiled at the thought. There were lovely, and surely the most voguish shoes she'd ever possessed.
But then her smile tightened into a grimace. What
was
she thinking? It was a ball, for heaven's sake. One cannot wear mules for dancing!
She knew this from experience, for one eve she'd tried dancing in them in her chamber. Within three steps, one mule flew from her foot and slugged that awful scullery maid, Er
m
a, in the head. Didn't really hurt her though, and besides, it was her own bloody fault. Had she knocked before entering, she might have
s
pared herself the goose egg on her noggin.
So no mule
s
—
s
he'd have to wear slippers. But the only pair she owned were castoffs from Meredith's oldest sister, Eliza. They were adequate, of course, but they did nothing to set off the fine saffron gown.
24
Jenny chewed her lip. If the viscount would be good enough to
leave,
perhaps she'd have a few moments to slip into one of the shoemaker shops.
At the sound of a masculine chuckle, Jenny broke from her musings and looked up to find Lord Argyll eyeing her. "I see I am delayin' the ladies from their ball preparations."
"Oh, no, my lord," Lady Viola protested.
And though the Featherton ladies tried in earnest to persuade Lord Argyll to extend his visit, he bid them all farewell and disappeared through the doorway to the street.
Jenny for one was pleased the handsome Scot was gone. He was right, she had much to do. The first of which was slip back into her work clothes so she could begin to dress Meredith, a task she dreaded, for when it came to clothing selection, the young miss was habitually unable to make up her mind. With an audible sigh, she turned her gaze upon Meredith, who had just hiked her hem to her knees and raced to the front window to watch the viscount board his town carriage.
With a squeal of delight, Meredith whirled around, her face positively aglow. "Jenny is truly coming with us to the ball?"
A mischievous grin lifted the whole of Lady Letitia's face. "Indeed she is. Did you not see the way Lord Argyll looked at her? He was smitten with Jenny, I tell you."
Jenny felt the pads of her ears heating. "If the viscount was smitten, as you suggest, my lady, it was by
Lady Geneviev
e
—
a
nd she does not exist. Had I walked into the drawing room as myself, Jenny Penny the lady's maid, he would not have paid any heed."
25
Lad
y
Viola shook her head. "No, no. His attraction was clear and I daresay, so was yours, Jenny."
Jenny felt her cheeks grow hot.
Her
attraction? What was she talking about?
Lady Letitia leaned forward. "You do fancy Lord Argyll, gel?"
Looking up, Jenny met her employer's gaze.
Oh, no.
She'd watched the two old ladies turn the household upside down when they'd gotten it into their heads to find matches for Meredith's older sisters. Is this what they had in mind for
her
?
How intriguing.
"He is every woman's dream."
"But is he
your
dream, Jenny?" Lady Viola awaited her answer with bated breath.
"Oh, yes.
Of course"
Jenny muttered softly.
If saying so gets me to the ball this eve.
Lady Viola beamed. "So, Cupid's arrow has been drawn from the quiver. But you are right, dove. The difference in your stations is great, and being a peer, I fear he mightn't allow himself the opportunity to know a gel in service."
A look of worry fell over Meredith's eyes. "She's right, Aunt Letitia. Once he knows who Jenny really is, he won't wish to court her. He'll never see past her apron and know the true woman inside."
Pausing, Lady Letitia considered Meredith's words, then her round face brightened like a beacon. "The solution is simple. We do not reveal Jenny's true identity until we are sure she's snared the Highlander's heart."
Jenny looked helplessly from one Featherton lady to the other. There was no way she could maintain a masquerade of this sort for more than one eve. "Please do
26
not think me ungrate
f
ul, my ladies, but have I no say in this?"
Lady Letitia took her hand and squeezed it. "You want to go to the ball, Jenny. I can see it sparkling in your eyes."
Of course, she longed to attend the bal
l
—
t
o be a real lady and live the life she'd always dreamed of, but this matchmaking scheme of theirs was insane. She raised her eyes to her employer. "Perhaps for one night. Beyond tha
t
—
"
Lady Viola broke in. "Beyond that will be up to Cupid." She glanced at Letitia, and the two old ladies began to giggle excitedly.
Jenny gave a worried look to Meredith.
"Don't fret, Jenny. I'll help. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine." Meredith smiled hopefully at Jenny, then hugged her aunt Letitia. "Such fun this will be, Auntie
s
—
b
ut you both are
mad.
Mad I tell you! That's why I love you so much."
Yes, the two old ladies were mad if they thought they could pull this off, Jenny silently agreed.
But out of this night's folly ... a lady would emerge.
******************
No sooner had Jenny removed the glorious saffron gown and had begun to dig through her bedside table for the earbobs she intended to wear than her summons bell jingled on its iron coil.
"
Oh, perdition," she murmured as she wriggled into her black service gown and stuffed her hair beneath a white cotton cap. "I have a ball to prepare for, and those ladies well know it."
27
Stealing a glance at her image in the small oval looking glass sitting on her table, she raced up the stairs only to be stopped by her mother, the Feathertons' housekeeper.
"Go back down and fetch your sewin' basket, Jenny. The Widow McCarthy popped by to visit the ladies and snagged her hem on the step."
Jenny narrowed her eyes. "And she wants me to mend it? Why can't she go home and have her own girl have a go at it? Haven't I got enough to do this day?"
Her mother glared back at her. "Look at you all high and mighty today." She flicked her fingers outward. " ''Tisn't up to you to question Lady Letitia's directives. So go on. Hurry now. It doesn't take much to get the widow's ire up, and every moment you delay will make it that much worse for you."
With a huff, Jenny returned to her small, windowless chamber for her sewing basket and scampered back up the stairway. When she entered the drawing room, the twig-thin widow, who appeared not more than ten years older than herself, rudely snapped her fingers at her.
"Here, gel. The hem."
Jenny nodded and turned for the footstool, but the young widow reached out with her clawed fingers, clutched her apron, and reeled her close.
"Haven't got all day. Just kneel down and mend it."
From the corner of her eye, Jenny saw Lady Letitia snarl and open her mouth to speak, but Lady Viola, her countenance pinched in a worried look, shook her head vehemently and her employer said nothing.
Too bad,
Jenny thought.
The crow really deserves to be knocked down a few steps.
Ignoring Jenny completely, the widow resumed the
28
conversation. "So why is the viscount in Bath? I mean, a Scottish viscount,
here.
It's not an everyday occurrence, is it now?"
Lady Viola appeared even more unnerved by this comment and looked to her more courageous sister for a response.
"He did not say," Lady Letitia began. "His mother was a relation, and we cared for her for a time in her youth. His visit to us was purely obligatory, I assure you."
Jenny glanced over at Lady Viola, and saw her release her pent-up breath. Now that was interesting. There was something they weren't saying. Maybe even
hiding.
Well, soon enough she'd get to the truth of it all. It would be like a little mystery. What sport!
"Perhaps he's come to Bath for a wife," the widow offered as a pleased smile stretched her tight lips. "He's quite handsome, isn't he? At least, he appeared so from what I saw through my window. Rich is he?"
Neither Featherton responded, only stared back at the widow in shock.
Well, blow me down.
The widow must have buried her husband as half a man, for she certainly had his stones today. Even Jenny knew such a direct question was entirely inappropriate and, not to mention, ridiculously stupid. For goodness' sake, didn't she see his sleek town carriage? Of course he had money. One didn't come across a carriage
l
ike that every day.
Just a few more stitches and she'd be done. Pity. It was quite diverting to sit here, invisible as air, and listen in on
ton
gossip. Jenny slowed her needle's movement to a snail's pace.
29
Then the widow started up again, in that whistling nasal voice of hers. "You'd tell me if he was, searching for a wife I mean. Charles, God rest his soul, has been gone for two years now. ''Tis about time I reentered the marriage mart, wouldn't you say? And Lord Argyll, well, a lady could do far worse.
Ouch!"
Jenny looked down and saw her needle protruding from the widow's ankle.
Lord have mercy.
In one swift movement, she pried it out.
"Ouch! You stupid girl!" the widow howled. "You've stabbed me, and now I've got blood on my new stocking."
Lady Letitia wrenched Jenny to her feet, then yanked her behind her. "Of course I will reimburse you for your stockings. 'Twas just an accident."
"An accident? A scratch might be an accident. A poke. But half the needle's length was in my ankle!"
"Oh, no, madam. 'Twas only a quarter of an inch at most." Jenny produced the needle. "See, the blood only goes up to
here."
"Dear me! Below stairs, Jenny. Quickly now," Lady Viola whispered.
Jenny nodded. "Truly, I didn't mea
n
—"
“Now, gel," Lady Letitia ordered.
"Yes, my lady." Jenny disappeared into the passage
a
nd started down the stairs.
She really hadn't meant to jab her. At leas
t
... she d
i
dn't
think
she meant to. But what right did that old bat
ha
ve to put her claim on
her
viscount?
After all, she saw him firs
t
—
a
nd he was her voucher to the ball!
30
Dressed in Meredith's glowing saffron ball gown, Jenny strode through the kitchen on her way to her mother's chambers. Two scullery maids snickered as she passed them by.
"Look at the fine lady. Off to the ball, she is, like one of the Quality," Er
m
a, the younger of the two, announced loudly so that anyone below stairs might hear.
"Thinks she's better, she does. But she ain't. She mightn't have grime under her nails, but she's as lowborn and coarse as the rest of us." The two maids chuckled at that.