After she'd finished her errands for Mrs Bates, Mira had an hour left to do some shopping on her own. She'd searched the shop windows and remained in front of a shop that sold dolls and other playthings. There was a dainty little doll's house, and exquisite porcelain dolls in lace dresses, with china heads, hands and feet, and thick sausage curls peeking out from under their bonnets.
Clare would love it, Mira had thought wistfully.
But it was far too expensive.
She would not be able to pay the private detective his monthly fee and buy a present with the money she could set aside this month. It would have to be one of the two.
She chewed her lower lip, deep in thought. Then, with a final decision, she entered the shop and bought a bag of marbles.
It would have to do.
Next time, she had said to the doll.
"Mira!" The voice broke through her thoughts. "Where is that girl?"
"Coming, my lady!" Mira pulled herself up on the balustrade she'd been polishing, supporting her aching back with one hand and leaning back until she felt better.
Mrs Holt was in the hallway pacing the carpet thin and wringing her hands. "Quick, to the drawing room. Lady Cullpepper wants you."
Mira straightened her cap before entering.
Lady Cullpepper was a lady in her prime; she was a buxom lady with fine blonde hair showing the first slight signs of grey. She had a nervous disposition, and there was always an air of restlessness about her. Despite occasional bouts of pettiness and demanding expectations, she had a benevolent regard for her household staff. Remarkably, she was unwavering in her commitment to keeping her promises. Seven years earlier, in a rare act of compassion, she'd offered Mira employment even though she knew she had a child; a circumstance that many other potential employers would have considered a hindrance.
"There she is." Lady Cullpepper grabbed Mira's arm and pulled her towards the window. "Stand here so I can get a better look at you." She examined Mira critically from top to bottom. "Yes, you will do."
Miss Cullpepper, a young lady in her early twenties with her mother's fine blonde hair, looked up from her embroidery. "But Mama, is it not better that I just stay at home? Really, I don't mind at all."
"Out of the question. How often do you receive an invitation to the opera from Lady Randolph?"
Rose pulled a face. "Never?"
"Precisely. So when Lady Randolph saw you at the Winthorpe dinner the other night and took such an instantaneous liking to you that she invited you to the opera tonight, you cannot refuse. You must go. It is a shame that your father and I cannot attend because we have one of those tedious political suppers he insists on. And now that Jenny has fallen ill, what are we to do? On top of your abigail and another maid, I hear. The whole household will fall ill at this rate. Oh! My nerves!" Lady Cullpepper dropped onto the sofa with a groan.
Miss Cullpepper turned to Mira with a grimace. "It seems you must accompany me to the opera tonight because Jenny, my companion, has fallen ill. It will be a dreadful affair with screeching sopranos and a stifling house full of people and no air." She shuddered. "It's quite unbearable. I usually start to feel quite uncomfortable ten minutes after entering a crowded house, and then what am I to do?"
"That's why you need an escort to prevent that. And since both Jenny and Renata are unwell, Mira will have to go instead."
The opera? Her? Tonight? Mira's head spun. "But my lady, wouldn't Emma be a better choice?"
"Emma can't possibly go. I need her myself. This dinner is important, and I need to look my best."
Mira wrinkled her forehead in concern. "But, my lady, I am a mere maid. I have neither the breeding nor the qualifications to appear in society alongside Miss Cullpepper." The thought alone made her break into a sweat.
"Nonsense. You are one of our few servants who does not speak in that dreadful East London brogue. And dressed properly, without apron and cap, I dare say you look quite fetching. You're prettier than Emma, and at the opera, appearance is all that counts."
Mira remained silent.
"I shall recompense you handsomely," Lady Cullpepper said. "I have always been generous, have I not?"
She had been. She owed it to Lady Cullpepper that she hadn't ended up on the streets. Any extra remuneration on top of her meagre wages was welcome. With the extra money she could not only pay the detective, but also buy the doll for Clare.
Mira relented. "Very well, my lady."
Lady Cullpepper's face brightened immediately. "I knew I could count on you, Mira. You must get ready, for the performance at the opera is about to begin."
Good heavens. The opera house. This was where the hightongathered to see and be seen. Music was of secondary importance. What would a girl like her even do there?
"But, my lady. I have nothing to wear."
