Authors: Sarah Thorn
''Are you feeling better?'' Charlotte asked as Jane bent down and lifted the enormous hoof for inspection.
''Fine. I'm sorry, I suppose the situation with my mother got me down.'' Charlotte nodded. Why nobody wanted Jane, she would never be able to understand.
Jane spent the morning cleaning hooves and mucking stables out. At twelve, it was time for lunch. When it was cold the employees sat in a corner of the barn, but it was the first
soft
spring day of the year, and they all decided to sit on bales of straw in the yard. People looked up when an old man on a horse rode into the yard. He stopped, dismounted and tied his steed next to
Seamus,
who immediately lashed out at the threat.
''Which of you is Jane Glossop?'' he asked. Everyone pointed. ''I have been
asked
to deliver this to you.'' He handed Jane an envelope.
''Thank you. Would you like some tea, after your journey?'' Jane asked.
''Oh, that would be nice.'' He sat down next to her.
''What have you brought me?''
''I don't know what it is. I'm a gardener at the Duke's residence. His secretary asked me to deliver the envelope to you. She told me you worked here.''
''Open it,'' a few of them said, seemingly more curious that Jane.
She put her index finger into the small gap at the back and slid it along the length of the
envelope,
tearing it as she went. Inside there was a card.
The Duke of Longford requests the pleasure of the company of
Miss Jane Glossop,
on
the 20th May 1828 at Fairfax Hall from seven pm.
at
a ball to celebrate the opening of the 1828 Societal Season.
R.S.V.P
When her mouth fell open, everyone asked what it was. When she told
them,
they were aghast.
''That's the poshest ball in the whole country,'' one of her colleagues said.
''Yes, I believe so, but
why
invite me?'' Jane asked.
The old man looked at her and knew perfectly well why the Duke had invited her. If he'd been forty years
younger,
he would
liked
to have asked Jane to a ball.
''Does anybody know what kind of man the Duke is?'' Jane threw the question to the group.
''People don't like him,'' George said. George was the oldest of Jane's colleagues and an excellent
stock-man
.
''Why?'' she asked. The others looked at their portly
colleague
as curious as Jane to know the answer.
''My wife works at Fairfax Hall. She tells me he is unpopular in
society,
and he is
totally
without emotion. Cold as a fish. He's thirty, yet unmarried. All in all, he's a most mysterious character.''
After they had had lunch and the old man had left, Jane went about her work. She couldn't stop wondering why she, of all people, had
been invited
to the ball.
That evening she sat with her mother. ''A Duke has invited me to a ball mother. A Duke has
invited
me. Can you believe it?'' Her mother looked at her and scowled. ''Should I go? And if I go what am I going to wear?'' Her mother suddenly sat up and put her hand around Jane's throat. Jane looked away from her evil eyes. Doctor Brown had told her to look away when her mother became aggressive. Her mother squeezed harder. ''That hurts,'' Jane said calmly. She let go and screamed an obscenity.
When Jane went to bed, she lay awake much longer than normal. She wasn't thinking about the Duke, but about her mother.
She
couldn't go on much longer like this, especially if her mother
were
going to be violent towards her. She would talk to Dr. Brown as soon as she could.
*****
''What do you mean, you aren't going to go? You
simply
must go to the ball,'' Charlotte said brushing the loose straw across the yard with increased vigor. ''It's the chance of a lifetime. It isn't some tame village
party,
it's a high society ball.'' Charlotte's voice was full of despair at her friends indifference. ''You are a beautiful woman, but you're almost on the shelf, you should go. Find yourself a rich husband.''
''I don't have any clothes suitable for such a high ranking event. I can't go in my best
dress,
it is far below the
standard,
and I have no
suitable
shoes.''
Charlotte thought for a moment. ''Borrow a dress and a pair of shoes,'' she said. Jane was grooming one of her horses. She
was dressed
in a pair of dirty
overalls,
and her fingers were filthy. She knew her hair was a
mess,
and she felt far beneath the standard of a society lady. ''I know,'' Charlotte shouted, the volume of her voice making Jane's horse lay its ears back. ''George's wife.''
''What about her?''
''She works at the Hall.''
''And?''
''The Duke's elderly mother must have some very
fine
gowns. You could borrow one.''
''You mean steal it?'' Jane was shocked.
''No secretly borrow and then put it back.''
''But the Duke's mother, as you said, is old. I'm sure any dress of hers won't fit me.''
''But she hasn't always been old. The Aristocracy never throw their clothes out. I wager she still has dresses from when she was your age.''
''And what kind of shape is she?''
''I don't know,'' Charlotte answered, wincing at the chink in her strategy. ''We could make some alterations if it doesn't fit.''
''No, Charlotte, it isn't right. No.''
Two days later when Jane arrived at the farm, George took Jane by the arm and took her to a dark corner of the stable. ''I've got this for you.'' He handed her a package. ''The wife risked her job to do this for you, but we want you to be happy Jane. You deserve it.'' Jane knew what it was and shook her head in disbelief.
''George, what your wife has done is very dangerous. I would never forgive myself if she were to get into trouble.''
He looked at Jane and lowered his voice further. ''She told me the
Dowager
Duchess has more than a hundred gowns. She is bed ridden and in no way will she ever know. My wife will slip it back into her wardrobe when you've finished with it.''
''But what about the Duke, perhaps he will recognize the dress as his mothers?''
''It's a dress she
had worn
before he was born. How could he possibly know? Most men have no idea what's in their wife's wardrobe, let alone what's in their mothers. There's a pair of shoes in the parcel as well.''
Jane looked at his kind face and smiled. Accept, she told herself. He is one of the few people in the area that like you. ''Thank you so much, George. And please tell you wife, how much I appreciate the risk she has taken.''
''Let me see, let me see,'' Charlotte could hardly contain her excitement when she saw Jane that evening. She walked to Jane's out of pure curiosity.
''But I haven't opened the parcel yet,'' Jane complained as she closed the front door. ''I've been looking after mother. Mrs. Johnson said
she's
had a terrible day with her.''
''Perhaps it's time,'' Charlotte said. ''You can't go on like this. That bruise on your neck is only just going to go in time for the ball.''
''But I can't bear to see her go,'' Jane said twisting her face.
''I know,'' Charlotte took her hand.
''I want to keep her with me for as long as possible.''
''Show me the dress,'' Charlotte said, changing the subject.
Jane took the parcel and cut the string that bound the brown paper to it. Gently, she turned it over a few times until the
paper
fell open. Charlotte gasped. ''Oh it's wonderful. Jane, look at it.'' Jane's mouth
fell
open.
''But I can't wear that,'' she said.
''Why?''
''It's far too grand.''
''Jane, now I'm going to be angry with you. Don't you know how grand you are? Look at what you do. How you care for your mother. How hard you work. You are
a wonderful
person. I won't hear any more negativity from you. Now pick it up and try it on.''
Jane smiled at Charlotte's outburst. ''Thank you,'' she said, kissing her on the cheek. ''Alright, just get on with it,'' her friend said impatiently.
Jane undressed in front of the fire in the kitchen. She wasn't embarrassed, she knew her figure was good,
she
had no areas she needed to hide. When she stood naked, the firelight danced over her curves, accentuating her shapely breasts and the length of her shapely legs. Charlotte stared at her, unable to divert her eyes. It was the most erotic moment of Charlotte's young. Jane picked the dress up carefully and held it against her body. She stepped into it and
pulled the
sleeves over her slender shoulders.
''Fasten it for me,'' she said.
Charlotte's mouth was wide open. The silk dress clung to Jane's figure perfectly. It was
deep
red in color, with bands of gold braid running vertically over the length of it. The neckline was low enough to accentuate Jane's femininity, yet preserve her modesty, and the back was cut in a half circle, covering her shoulder blades but showing the
magnificent
way her neck flowed into her the arch of her shoulders. Around the waist, there was a gold ribbon which when tied at the back showed off Jane's tiny waist. George's wife had even gone to the trouble of including a gold shawl and a matching headband. Charlotte fastened the back, walked around her and almost passed out at the beauty of it all.
''Oh, Jane,'' she was weeping. ''You look.....'' she couldn't find the right vocabulary.
''Does it need alteration?''
Charlotte shook her head. ''How extraordinary that you and the Duchess are
exactly the same
size
.”
''Lucky, I'd call it.''
''Shoes,'' Charlotte said.
Jane picked them up and looked at them. A pair of
magnificent
gold slippers, soft to the touch
with flat
soles and a maroon ribbon. She bent down and put
them on
. ''A little big,'' she concluded.
''Never mind. At least, the dress fits and we can pack your shoes with wool. How exciting,'' Charlotte said, wishing she could go to the ball as well.
*****
Jane had wondered how she would
be transported
to the ball, but the same old man that had delivered the invitation came to the farm and told her the Duke would send a carriage for her at seven in the evening.
Mrs. Johnson stood before Jane and openly cried when she saw her. ''Oh Jane, you look so.....'' She, like Charlotte was unable to find the correct words.
''Thank you.
You are so kind.
Without you, I don't know what I would do.''
They stood and looked out of the window, waiting
for the carriage
to arrive. Mrs. Johnson was as nervous as Jane. ''Is everything closed at the back,?''Jane asked. Mrs. Johnson inspected her and nodded.
''Heavens above us.'' Mrs. Johnson exclaimed when she saw four white horses appear from the bend in the road. ''Look,'' she said pointing.
Jane's expert eye knew them to be Andalusian horses. They were pulling a gold coach. It
looked
as thought it
was made
of solid
gold,
but it was in fact gilded. The roof
was adorned
with tritons and cherubs. At the rear of the coach were two gold angels with
splendid
wings and at the
front
two statues
of
powerful
Greek males. Jane went outside and
was greeted
by a footman who took her hand and led her to the door which was being held open by another footman. She climbed inside and sat down in the velvet and satin interior. The
footman
closed the
door,
and the coach jolted as they set off. Jane felt like a queen for the first time in her life. She was tempted to wave to the stunned onlookers, but modesty prevailed.
Two footmen stood on the back of the coach, and one coachman rode on the first horse
on
the left. They left the village and turned left. Jane understood from George that Fairfax Hall was five miles away. He'd told her to expect it to take an hour. In fact, it took forty-five minutes.