The Diary of Cozette (31 page)

I have noted in recent weeks Lady Archibald making frequent visits to the stable, or making excuses to go for walks. It is my suspicion that she is meeting with Mr. Coven. We have spoken only in terms necessary to our working together, but I have not spoken again of that night this past winter.

It was Mr. Coven who finally convinced Mistress Archibald to follow through with plans to attend Lady Graham’s ball. He has offered to stay with Mrs. Farrington and attend to the master.

The carriage ride to Lady Graham’s is not a great distance, an afternoon if that to her estate outside of London. We shall return in the morning and not tarry, according to my mistress’s wishes.

Mr. Archibald’s condition declines each day and as of late he has summoned legal counsel where they converse for hours at a time. He has a special chair, but refuses, often requesting that Mr. Coven carry him up and down the stairs. It seems my mistress is empathetic to his condition, herself in recent weeks taken to fever and chills. Unable to define its origin, she claims that it is lack of sleep in caring for the master. She is able at times to keep down only tea and crackers.

As we journeyed today on the rough road, I watched her profile staring outside at the lush green trees shading the road. Her dress was plain, none of her magnificent outfits of satin and velvet, but a high-waist loose-fitting dress, with a beautiful sheer ivory tucker that accentuated her fair skin. Her bonnet and cape completed her simple attire.

She wore her hair up on her head and I had taken liberty to weave a few small daisies in her fiery tresses. My concern was her pallor; quite ashen, she bravely held her chin high.

“You’ll let Jensen know, mum, if he needs to stop.” I placed my book on the seat beside me, unable to read further for the uneven road. The carriage pitched and swayed in the ruts left from the hard winter. My mistress’s color went from ashen to an odd green.

“Milady?” Her tired gaze turned to mine and she then forced her head through the open window and promptly emptied her stomach.

To his civility, Jensen halted the carriage and came to her aid, offering water from a jar and a cloth he kept in his pocket. He took her arm and they walked for a few moments until she regained her composure. I watched them speak to each other very little, but could not hear what they were saying. Her color returned, Jensen helped her into the carriage and she leaned her head back and rested for the remainder of the trip.

As we turned onto the road to the grounds, the sun was high in the sky, before noon. A rectangular reflection pool preceded the house, with three ornate stone fountains in its center, the carriage drive, curved between it and the front door, making a grand entrance to the estate. I am struck by the enormous wealth of some, to live in such castles, really. The manor itself is most adequate, but considered a cottage by comparison. Fortunately, Lady Graham is one of the least snobbish women of wealth that I know. Once I was able to get past her eccentricities, I have found that I enjoy her immensely and find her most agreeable.

She met the mistress and me at the door, a miniature dog in one hand. It lapped at my mistress, causing her to laugh, and my heart was glad. There had been far too much tension in the house, and the ride and change of scenery would no doubt do her good.

Grand is not a suitable enough word to describe the splendor of Lady Graham’s preparations for the charity ball. Charities not being new to the English most certainly, one that is to raise money for a training home for women’s occupations is nonetheless a rare choice during the season. Tucked into my perch from above I can with leisure walk from portal to portal and gaze down on the entire ballroom.

She told us earlier as she led us on a short inspection of the house that it was built in the seventeenth century, with the influence of Roman and French design. Every wall was covered with exquisite paintings, many from young Mr. Rodin and Brotherhood members, others portraits of Lord and Lady Graham’s lineage. Throughout the inspection, she credited her nephew and niece for helping her maintain the old world splendor that Lord Graham so loved. Ostentatious as it may be to some, I found it to be as eccentric and exciting as the woman herself.

The ballroom, able to accommodate more than one hundred guests, was gleaming to perfection. Several servants bustled about the room making last-minute touches to the refreshment tables and décor. Chairs were placed along the walls to offer rest to those weary from dancing and at one end of the room, a small chamber ensemble practiced for the evening ahead. I walked behind my mistress, aware of the stares of the servants dressed impeccably in their fine uniforms.

“Are you quite sure we cannot persuade you to join us this evening, Cozette?” Lady Graham asked as we dined on the veranda.

I felt out of place, most certainly being served instead of serving. I could barely eat the delectable pâté on my plate. “Thank you, mum, your invitation is most kind, but with your permission I would be more at ease observing rather than participating this evening. Perhaps I could help in the kitchen?”

Her laugh in response made me smile. “I do truly admire you, Miss Cozette. You are charming. No, since you are the muse that inspired the events of this evening, I would not think of it, but I hesitate to think of you standing over the banister as a young child.”

“If I may, I noticed a small room built out over the third floor of the ballroom. Is that a guest room?”

“No, indeed it was designed originally by the builders, I’m told for security purposes. Guards of the lord who built this house would station themselves above so they could observe the entire room and its goings on all at once.”

“May I impose to sit in there this evening?” I sipped my water, with its slice of lemon bobbing in it and could not believe my ears that I, a servant, was making such a request. Nevertheless, I did not at the moment feel my class in Lady Graham’s presence. Indeed, when I put away my own prejudices, I could see only three women of leisure having lunch.

“Of course, and I will have your dinner served there as well, if that is agreeable with you?”

I had not considered the thought of eating at all! I glanced at my mistress who smiled, giving me a subtle nod. “Thank you kindly, mum, that would be most generous of you.”

Lady Graham went on to tell us of the multitude of guests she expected. A “magnificent success for the cause” she called it. Members of the Brotherhood were to be attending, as were several notable businessmen and philanthropists supporting social reform in England.

After a nap, my mistress bathed and I attended to her dress for the evening.

“Not quite so tight, Miss Cozette.”

My mistress stood in front of a mirror in her elaborate guest room. It had a bed chamber, dressing area, private bath and a small sitting room.

I loosened the sash and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. I am concerned with her inability to keep anything down. I do not wish to think what may be her situation, for that would involve consideration of a subject that I am not sure I am prepared to face. Therefore, I will focus on the symptoms and not yet the cause.

“Stay away from foods with too much cream or butter, they make you turn green, a particular chartreuse color if memory serves.” I smiled at her in the mirror as I adjusted the bow around her bodice.

“Chartreuse?” she asked with a curious smile.

“A color most putrid yellow-green, mum, according to Mr. Rodin’s palette. And remember shrimp gives you a terrible rash.”

She chuckled quietly.

“Watch your consumption of champagne as well, mum, without food you know how you get light-headed.” I knelt to straighten the hem of her frock.

“Miss Cozette? Is there anything I can do that meets with your precautions?”

She smiled at me as I clasped the ornate pearl and sapphire necklace at her throat. I handed her the matching earrings. “Indeed, mum, you can enjoy your evening and dance once with the kind Mr. Rodin for me.”

Her gaze softened. “Are you quite sure you won’t change your mind and come with me? I know I have something you could wear. Lady Graham stated plainly to me that Mr. Rodin would be delighted to escort the both of us.”

I shook my head and offered her my brightest smile. “I am humbled by your kindness, mum, but I would prefer to stay anonymous. Mr. Rodin’s collections of my portraits are quite enough exposure for me this evening.”

“I understand.” She spoke quietly and unexpectedly drew me into her embrace. “Thank you for all you do.”

Her gesture was quick and she did not tarry. I stepped away as soon as I felt her grip loosen. “Indeed, mum,” I whispered, startled by her open affection.

There was a tap on the door and when I opened it, my heart squeezed tight. Mr. Rodin stood in the hall, dashingly handsome in his black tailcoat and trousers, with a snowy white shirt, complete at the neck with a white tie suited for the ballroom. His hair brushed over his high collar and thoughts of my fingers entwined in it filtered through my mind.

“Mr. Rodin.” I curtsied, blushing from my thoughts, and opened wide the door.

“Miss Cozette, my muse, you are as lovely as ever. Tell me it is not true that I do not have the extraordinary pleasure of escorting both of you lovely ladies this evening?”

I curtsied once again at his kind words. “No, Mr. Rodin, I am unable this time.”

His smile was that of an old friend, those amber eyes sparkling true as ever.

“You must permit me then to steal a moment of your company later this evening perhaps? To discuss the success of the collection and share with you how well the Brotherhood has received it.”

He took my hand and bowed graciously, his kiss lingering on the back of my hand. I leaned forward, my cheeks warm with anticipation of his attention. “I am dining in the room above the ballroom.”

His brow rose. “I know it well. I used to hide in there as a child when I didn’t want to be found.” He bowed again. “Until later?”

My mistress appeared from the dressing room and he straightened abruptly.

“My good Lady Archibald, what secret recipe for beauty have you been hiding from the rest of the world? You are stunning tonight.”

My mistress smiled and her face was radiant. I, too, smiled, knowing all too well of dear Mr. Rodin’s penchant for charming women.

She took his arm and I held out her fan as she walked past me.

“I have been instructed, Mr. Rodin, by your most avid pupil and the true belle of this ball to honor her by saving one dance for you.”

His gaze caught mine.

“You know well we do not stand on the stuffy protocol of the higher-class English. My aunt finds them to be not unlike drones. Say you will change your mind?”

“Thank you, Mr. Rodin. I have received nothing but a warm welcome since my arrival, but I have quite made up my mind on the matter…sir,” I added in afterthought.

“Strong-minded, isn’t she?” He addressed the comment to my mistress.

“Indeed, she is a woman, Mr. Rodin, it is inherent to the breed.”

My mistress glanced at me with a smile equal to one she might give Lady Graham. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes.

“Truly put, Lady Archibald, and I am most honored to be in the company of two such fine women. Shall we?” He held his arm to her and I watched from above as they descended the main double-wide staircase, looking every bit as royal as the house surrounding them.

As much as my curiosity was piqued to explore the long stretches of halls that spread to either wing on the third floor, I instead chose to make haste to my secret room for the evening and find a comfortable place in which to watch the festivities.

“Will there be anything else, Miss Cozette? Lady Graham has appointed me to serve you only this evening.”

“Me?” I smiled at the dear girl who had just brought me the most sumptuous tray of exotic delights. “I cannot express enough my gratitude to your mistress, she is a most generous and kind woman.”

She curtsied. “Indeed, mum. May I get you anything else at this time?”

“Oh, no, I am more than adequately seen to, thank you.”

She curtsied. “Would you like me to wait for you to finish, mum?”

“Oh, no, you must go find yourself something to eat, I’m sure the staff has not yet had anything.”

She glanced at me with a nervous smile as her stomach grumbled plaintively. “No, mum.”

“Go on ahead and I’ll bring down my own tray. I will tell Lady Graham it was at my insistence.”

She hesitated for a moment and with a curtsy, left by way of the winding path of furniture to the door. True, whatever its purpose once, the room was now filled with additional furniture, most covered with white sheets to protect from dust.

A small side table and a long settee with a high curved back had been uncovered, and placed ahead of time near the portal overlooking the entrance. It was my private box seat to this grand affair.

The chamber music downstairs had already begun playing and the sound wafted through the din of conversations below. I tucked my legs beneath me as I leaned over the back of the chair and observed the pageantry below.

I heard the door open and thought the servant had for gotten something, but when two strong hands touched my shoulders, I knew immediately it was not her.

“Do not turn around,” a low-timbered voice whispered.

Though yet a stranger, this man’s breath near my ear caused shivers to skate delightfully over my skin. Instinct made me start to turn, and I was halted by his insistent fingers on my cheek. My focus was on the sea of guests below. It could only be Mr. Rodin.

“You are by far the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

I shivered with delight at Mr. Rodin’s enchanting game and so chose to join him in his fantasy.

“You will not let me see your face, kind sir, and yet you flatter me. To what do I owe the honor of your praise?”

“Your beauty only, my sweet Cozette.”

“I see, my ardent suitor, that you speak my name. It would seem that I am at a disadvantage.”

He nuzzled the warmth of my neck as his hands held tight around my waist. I accommodated his actions, offering him greater access to the side of my neck.