The Magnificent Masquerade (12 page)

"Oh," Kitty said shamefacedly,
"I didn't know."

"How could you know," Miss Leacock
said just loudly enough to be heard by everyone at the table, "when you'd
been badly advised?" Here she gave Peg another look which clearly
indicated where the bad advice had come from. "And now I think enough has
been said on this subject. You'd better eat your chicken, Miss Pratt, before it
becomes cold." With that, Peg received the disapproving glances from the
others that had hitherto been thrown at Kitty. But soon normal table
conversation was resumed, and Kitty, having been returned from Coventry by Miss
Leacock's strategem, set to her dinner with renewed appetite. Only Peg still
seethed. "Ol' witch," she muttered under her breath about Miss
Leacock. But Kitty didn't pay attention. Over her chicken, she threw the
"old witch" a warm smile. She was beginning to learn who, among all
these alien strangers, her real friend might be.

Chapter Eleven

Kitty and Emily intended to exchange complete
details of their evening's adventures before going to sleep, but each of them
was too exhausted by the strenuous day to chat for long. While Kitty dutifully
helped Emily to undress-a luxury Emily experienced for the first time in her
life and greatly enjoyed-Emily reported to Kitty that Toby Wishart was a rude
by. "I thought at first that he was quite handsome, but I later came to
the opinion that the fellow would not possibly make a good husband."

"Then you think my plan is a good idea,
after all?" Kitty said, buttoning Emily into her own best nightgown and
trying not to yawn.

"As to that," Emily replied, climbing
up on the high bed and sinking back with a sigh against an enormous pile of the
softest down pillows imaginable, "I can answer that question only after we
see how this wild scheme turns out." Kitty, too tired to discuss anything
further, dropped an ironic little bob to her "mistress" and retreated
to the narrow little room in the servants' wing to which she'd been assigned.
She undid the buttons of her bombazine all by herself-and with more difficulty
than she'd expected-and fell upon the lumpy cot that was to be her bed for the
entire fortnight of the visit. "I'll never be able to shut my eyes on this
dreadful contraption," she told herself, but no sooner had the words
crossed her mind than she fell fast asleep.

It seemed as if she'd barely slept an hour
before Peg roused her. "He’d better get dressed real quick if ye want yer
breakfast," the girl warned. "Cook clears the table sharp at
six."

"Heavens," Kitty muttered groggily.
"What time is it now?"

"A bit after five, so, ye see, there ain't
much time."

"Good God!" Kitty cried, leaping out
of bed. She'd have to perform her ablutions, shine her boots, button the
twenty-four buttons of her bombazine, and braid her hair all in half an hour if
she was to have time to eat. She set about dressing herself with the greatest possible
speed, but she was still struggling with the back buttons of her bombazine when
she heard a clock somewhere strike five-thirty. She sank on her bed in dismay.
Five-thirty! And she hadn't even started on her hair! She'd never make it to
breakfast at this rate. And she was unbelievably hungry again. Perhaps, she
thought, this scheme of mine was a mistake after all!

A light tap on her door roused her. She opened
it a mere crack, for she realized it wouldn't do to be discovered in such
disarray. She felt relieved to find it was Miss Leacock standing at her
door-Miss Leacock, the one person at the table last night who'd behaved like a
friend. "Miss Leacock!" she exclaimed in surprise. "I ... er ...
Good morning."

"I didn't see ye at breakfast," the
ladylike abigail said in the cool, distant voice Kitty remembered from the
evening before, "so I wondered if ye were in some difficulty."

"Yes, I am," Kitty admitted in
desperation, opening the door and letting the older abigail in. "It was
good of you to come, but, honestly, I'm not worth your attention. You'll only
get into trouble with Mrs. Prowne or Mr. Naismith if they catch you here."

"Ye needn't worry about that," Miss
Leacock assured her in her precise, carefully enunciated syllables. "After
twenty seven years of service to her ladyship, I'm quite immune from
scolds."

"Oh, I see. Then that's why everyone calls
you Miss Leacock instead of addressing you by your given name as they do
me."

"No, my dear, that's not why. They call me
Miss Leacock because nobody knows my given name."

"Oh?" Kitty asked curiously.
"Why is that?"

"Because I won't tell them. But that is
neither here nor there. I came in to learn what is causing ye difficulty."

"Yes, so you did." Kitty sank down on
her narrow bed and gave a hopeless shrug. "Well, then, since you're good
enough to be concerned, Miss Leacock, you may as well hear the truth about me.
I'm not accustomed to getting up at five. Even at school we were permitted to
sleep 'til seven. Neither am I accustomed to this hideous bombazine. And I
haven't even begun on my blasted hair!"

"No need for panic, girl," Miss
Leacock said calmly. She pulled Kitty to her feet, turned her round without
another word, and quickly buttoned her dress. And before Kitty could object,
she started on her hair.

"This is more than kind," Kitty said
with sincere gratitude. "I don't know why-"

"I recollect, when I first came here, how
frightened I was by the morning scramble. I don't think I would have managed
without the help I received from Mrs. Prowne."

"Mrs. Prowne? I never would have thought
... she seems to me to be a very unfriendly sort."

Miss Leacock smiled, the first smile Kitty had
seen her give. "That was many years ago," she said. "She was
much younger then. The years have given her more responsibility and less
patience. But believe me, my dear, under that frown she likes to wear, she's
very good at heart. In fact, if we hurry down to the hall, I'd wager you'll
find she's ordered Cook to keep some breakfast warm for you."

Kitty followed Miss Leacock out the door.
"I knew I had a great deal to learn about being a servant in a great
house," she said in self-accusation, "but it seems I have much to
learn about people, too."

Miss Leacock actually laughed. "So do we
all, my dear, so do we all. But you'll learn what you need in good time."

"There's something else I'll learn in good
time," Kitty said with a gurgle of laughter, running ahead of the older
woman and holding open the servants' hall door for her.

"What's that?" Miss Leacock asked as
she passed. "Your given name," Kitty whispered in her ear.

Emily, however, reminding herself that she was
living the life of a lady, stayed abed until nine. It seemed to her that she'd
slept half the day away, but even at ten, when she timidly stole into the
breakfast room ravenous as a wolf, she learned from Naismith that she was the
first one down. "Except for his lordship, of course," the butler
added. "Oh? Has he breakfasted already?" Emily asked, eyeing the
lavish buffet spread out before her. It contained an amazing selection of
edibles. The array of food seemed too varied and exotic for a mere breakfast.
There were platters of muffins and biscuits, racks of toast, bowls of fruits
both fresh and stewed, covered serving dishes of several kinds of ham and other
smoked meats, ramikins filled with curried, poached, or shirred eggs, pots of
coffee and tea, pitchers of cream and honey, assorted jellies, and trays of
scones, tarts, and crumpets. It was a far; cry from the porridge and tea that
was called breakfast at the Marchmont Academy.

As Naismith helped Emily to load her plate, he
explained that his lordship always left early to ride around the grounds with
his bailiff. "As to Master Tobias, one never knows when he'll come down.
And Lady Edith and Miss Alicia take breakfast in their rooms, so you needn't
delay your own on their account."

Naismith may have felt sorry for the poor young
lady having to breakfast all by herself, but Emily enjoyed the peacefulness of
it. She rejoiced in the freedom of having a meal without being forced to make
conversation and having to guard against a slip of the tongue. She was almost
finished when Toby came in. The fellow looked even more handsome than he had
the night before. He was dressed in a dashing riding coat, yellow breeches, and
a pair of elegant Hessians with tassels at their tops. He gave her a cursory
greeting, downed a cup of coffee and a muffin without sitting down, and
explained that he was off to exercise his favorite roan. Then, obviously
realizing that to dash off without inviting her would be too rude even for him,
he asked cursorily, "Oh, would you care to come riding, Miss Jessup?"

"I don't ride, thank you," Emily
responded with icy politeness.

Toby merely shrugged. "Then I trust you'll
excuse me, ma'am," he said and promptly retreated from the room.

After he disappeared, Emily left the table
wondering what she was to do with herself next. She wandered about the rooms
aimlessly, wishing she could spend some time at the magnificent piano but
afraid of annoying the others in the household. By and by, Lady Edith made an
appearance. "Alicia is feeling out of frame again," she said, seating
herself in the Blue Saloon and taking up her embroidery. "I don't know
what to do about that poor child."

"May I pay a call on her?" Emily
asked, glad for the opportunity to have something to do.

Lady Edith smiled at her gratefully. "Oh,
would you? A bit of diversion might be the very thing for her." Emily ran
upstairs eagerly and knocked at Alicia's door. A voice within invited her to
come in, but when she entered she found that Alicia was not alone. On one side
of her bed a short, balding man with spectacles and a thick mustache stood with
his fingers on Alicia's wrist, taking her pulse. On the other side stood a
middle-aged abigail holding a tray of medicines. Alicia smiled at Emily feebly.
"Oh, Miss Jessup, how good of you to come. Miss Leacock, set a chair for
our guest, if you please. Miss Jessup, this is Dr. Hugh Randolph, who so kindly
comes each day to examine me. Hugh, this is Kitty Jessup, Lord Birkinshaw's
daughter. It was she who made the wonderful tisane for me yesterday."

The doctor peered at her over his spectacles.
"Ah, yes. Quite a miracle worker you must be to have cured Miss Alicia's
migraine sufficiently to encourage her to get out of this deuced bed and go
down to dinner. How do you do, ma'am?"

"How do you do?" Emily said in polite
acknowledgment, although she was taken aback by his curmudgeonly manner.
"But perhaps my visit is not felicitous at this time." She took a
backward step. "Shall I return later?"

"No need to go on my account," the
gentleman said gruffly. "I was just leaving. I don't know why this woman
insists on my coming every day. It would do her more good to perform some vigorous
exercise for a quarter-hour than to have me take her damned pulse."

"Oh, Hugh, please don't be cross,"
Alicia pleaded. "You know that I would exercise if I had the
strength."

"You'd have the strength if you forced
yourself to be a little energetic for just one week!" the doctor barked.
"Come with me, Miss Leacock, and I'll give you some more of those headache
powders. But don't give them to Alicia unless you deem it a dire emergency. Try
warm milk or one of Miss Jessup's tisanes before you let her take the
powder." He waved a warning finger in Alicia's face. "A dire
emergency, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Hugh, I hear you. But must you go so
soon? You've only just come."

"Of course I must go. I have patients who
are ill, you know. Really ill. Good day, Miss Jessup." And with Miss
Leacock at his heels, he strode out of the room. Emily looked after him for a
moment and then turned back to Alicia. The fragile woman was looking at the
closing door with an expression of such hopeless longing that Emily almost gasped.
Was poor, colorless Alicia in love with her bald, ill-tempered little doctor?
"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I interrupted your visit with
your doctor."

"Oh, no," Alicia said, trying to
reassure her with another feeble smile. "He was about to leave anyway. He
never stays with me for more than a couple of minutes." She tried
surreptitiously to wipe away a tear that dripped from one eye. "He doesn't
take m-my headaches very's-seriously." Emily sat at the edge of the bed
and took one of Alicia's thin hands in hers. "Oh, I'm sure he does,"
she murmured comfortingly. "Perhaps he was just a bit crotchety
today." Alicia dropped her eyes. "No, he's always crotchety with me.
I ... I seem to ... to't-try his patience. He's really a very kind, very
sympathetic gentleman. You mustn't judge him by his gruffness to me."

"If he's always gruff with you, why do you
believe that he's kind and sympathetic?"

"Because he was so at first, before I wore
him down." She gave a small, reminiscent sigh. "He was so gentle in
those days, so, understanding. I think he almost ... liked me. Now it seems as
if he thinks I'm not improving just to spite him." She looked up at Emily
and let her eyes overflow unchecked. "Doesn't he kn-know I would g-get up
and d-dance for him if I c-could?"

"Oh, Alicia," Emily said, patting the
older woman's cheeks with her handkerchief, "please don't cry. We can
think of something ..." She felt herself slipping into the familiar role
so often practiced at school, the role of comforter and advisor.

"Think of's-something?" Alicia
blinked up at her, hope shining like a rainbow through her tears. "What do
you mean?"

"I don't know yet," Emily admitted,
"but I can see you've fallen into the habit of presenting yourself to him
as helpless and weak. Perhaps if one day you could surprise him with a cheery
face ... you know, Alicia, your face becomes remarkably transformed when you
smile."