With another lurch in her stomach, Mira saw the erect figure of Princess Florentina standing by the Corinthian columns that framed the entrance. Next to her stood a line of servants, the butler, the housekeeper, footmen and maids. As if on command, they all either bowed or curtsied as they exited the carriage.
Lady Randolph almost dropped her lorgnette. "Goodness me, what a reception!"
It was the first time that Mira was being greeted by the servants, not standing with them. She always stood in line like this when the Cullpeppers returned from a journey.
Her hands were sweating as she stepped out of the coach.
"My dears, it is such a pleasure to have you here," the princess said languidly. Mira curtsied impulsively, which was the right thing to do, for Miss Cullpepper did the same.
"Atherton sends his regrets that he cannot be here to greet you in person, as he has pressing matters to attend to. You will join him for dinner. His Grace, the Duke of Aldingbourne, has just arrived, along with his sister, Lady Evangeline, and Count Lindenstein. The rest of the guests will be arriving next week for the ball."
Lady Randolph looked astonished. "Are you saying, Princess, that this is to be a more intimate gathering?"
"Precisely, my dear. Precisely. The crowd will arrive for the Christmas ball, so let us enjoy the solitude until then."
Lady Randolph looked overcome at having been singled out for such an exclusive invitation.
"I fear that with Atherton, Aldingbourne, and Lindenstein forming the formidable trio, there will be more politicking than I care for. It will be very dull. But with you here, we will keep them in check, yes? Together with Lady Evangeline, the three of you will be the ornaments of the party, which would otherwise be a dead bore," the princess said.
"Ornaments like Greek vases on the mantelpiece," Mira muttered to herself after the Princess turned away.
The princess turned suddenly with a twinkle in her eye. "Not vases, but flowers, mind you. Flowers."
Goodness, she'd heard her! Mira hastily averted her eyes with a flush. The princess had hearing like a lynx.
The most challengingthing for Mira in her new role as a lady was to do nothing at all. She had to clasp her hands tightly together to keep herself from inadvertently joining the hustle and bustle of the servants around her. Unpacking trunks, sorting clothes, fetching buckets of water, arranging the linen, dusting the chest of drawers. But this was not what a lady did.
A lady, Mira discovered, spent a lot of time dressing and undressing. Not only that, but she had to stand around while others dressed and undressed her. More than once she had to resist pulling away as a maid helped her pull up her stockings, pull her dress over her head and fasten it. Not to mention allowing her to do her hair.
"Under no circumstances must anyone discover that you are not a lady," Lady Cullpepper had insisted repeatedly. "It will reflect badly on Rose."
So her identity was that of an impoverished distant relative, a cousin of sorts, a companion to the daughter of the house.
It was a difficult position.
With a growing sense of unease, she thought of the suppers and soirees they were expecting in the coming days. How on earth was she going to get through them?
She pushed the feeling away.
Her job here was to see to that Miss Cullpepper found a husband.
Anyone would do, provided they had a title and a fortune.
The sooner she accomplished that, the sooner she could return to Fowey.
ChapterSix
Teatime was intimidatingto say the least.
Mira was sitting in the most beautiful drawing room she'd ever seen, surrounded by the high aristocracy, drinking tea like a lady.
She took care to sit up straight on a chaise longue, sticking out her little finger as she lifted the delicate teacup, just as she'd seen ladies do. She took a tiny sip and set the cup down again.
There. That was good, was it not?
It wasn't as if she was completely incapable of ladylike behaviour. After all, Miss Pearson had taught her not only reading, writing and arithmetic, but also etiquette, elocution, and posture. She could almost hear her voice instructing, "Tuck in your elbows. Sit up straight. Stomach in. Bosom out. No arms on the table. No slurping. No chewing with your mouth open. And, for God's sake, always speak slowly and clearly."
She'd taught Mira the King's English with such perfect pronunciation that she'd become an oddity in the village.
