It was at that moment that the duchess walked in. “I knew I would findyou here, my dear ?” She halted, puzzled to see Beth standing in themiddle of the room. “Is anything the matter, Elizabeth?”
Beth knew an outright denial would not be believed and so she said,“Just a littlecrise de nerfs,that’s all, Your Grace.”
“I hope it was nothing Lucien did,” said the duchess, coming closer.Beth knew she had just turned even redder. “He is fundamentally a goodman, but he has enough of his father in him to be difficult at times.”
Startled at this casual reference to the marquess’s parentage, Bethcould only say, “Oh.”
The duchess smiled her sweet smile which always had a dimming overlayof sadness. “It needn’t be a forbidden subject between us. St. Briac wasdashing but totally unreliable. He was a mess of fiery emotions, aconstant explosion of impulses. I could have married him, you know. He hadproperty, and though a poor prospect for one such as I, was not totallyineligible. He asked for my hand, but I would not marry him. He was too .. . explosive.”
So that was where the marquess got his temper. “And yet I am to marryhis son,” said Beth.
“Lucien is not very like him, I assure you, Elizabeth. He is a lot likeme and I, as you can see, am a very practical woman. He also has modeledhimself a great deal on the duke, who is everything that St. Briac wasnot.”
Beth had suspected there was a deep love between the duke and duchess,hidden somehow by the formality of their lives. She saw it clearly now asthe duchess spoke admiringly of her husband. But why then did they live asthey did? She tried to imagine the duke and duchess. . . . Hastily shecontrolled her mind.
The duchess said again, “But as Lucien has that touch of wildness and atemper, I pondered if he had upset you.”
“It is only my situation, Your Grace, which disturbs me. It would bethe same with any man.” Even as she said it, Beth knew that was not true.The marquess had a particular genius for setting her on edge.
The duchess, the practical woman, shrugged.“C’est la vie.And I am afraid I must disturb you more. Therewill be callers and there is the ball to consider. I am afraid, my dear,if you do not wish to be a quiz, you are going to have to allow us toprocure you new clothes. Lucien said you would agree to this.”
Beth looked down at her simple yellow round gown. She had thought suchgowns ubiquitous and unremarkable.
“Yes, I know,” said the duchess with a deprecating smile, “But it lookshomemade, my dear. We are not going to try to pretend to anyone that youbring a fortune, but they are bound to wonder why we don’t dress you.”
“Very well,” sighed Beth. She had, after all, given her word to themarquess. “But I must have some say in my clothes.”
“But of course,” said the duchess happily. “Now come along.”
Beth had already discovered that the duchess could move with greatspeed, and she was almost running as she kept up with the older woman onthe way to her rooms. A footman was sent to find the head seamstress.
“Mrs. Butler is well able to make a stylish plain gown and will takeyour measurements. We will send a muslin toile to London and have aballgown made for you. In fact,” she said with a shrewd glance at Beth, “Ithink I will send Lucien. It will get him out of the way and give him somelight relief. He can execute a number of necessary commissions far betterthan a servant. We must look at the periodicals.”
Another footman was sent off to bring these from the duchess’ssuite.
“We must do something about jewels, too,” said the duchess. “Lucienwill buy you some, but there are pieces among the family jewels which youshould have.” Another footman went hurrying on his way.
In Beth’s room they went straight into the dressing room.
“You had best slip out of your gown, my dear,” the duchess saidbriskly. Beth did as she was told and put on her wrap.
“Underclothes,” said the duchess, as if making a mental list. “Silknightdresses.” Beth felt her cheeks heat up again. “Do you wish us to buyyou a full wardrobe now or would you rather purchase it for yourself whenyou are married?”
“Does it make any difference?” asked Beth, feeling like someone who hasmoved one small stone and caused a landslide.
“It depends on where you are to honeymoon and how soon you intend totake up fashionable life.”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask Lucien,” said the duchess. Beth was not sure if it was aninstruction or another mental note.
By then the summonses were having effect. A tall gaunt woman, followedby a little maid carrying a basket and a selection of swatches, proved tobe the seamstress. She swiftly took measurements of all parts of Beth’sbody as the duchess chattered on about types of gowns.
“Round gowns,” she said. “Of the simplest lines, I think. You agree,Elizabeth?” Before Beth had time to respond, she went on. “Muslin. Let mesee. This cream jaconet is lovely, isn’t it? Or this figured lawn . ..”
Beth gave up and allowed the duchess to choose three gowns to be madequickly ? one of figured lawn, one of jaconet muslin sprigged with green,and one of plain cambric. She also gave orders for the beginning of atrousseau of personal garments, all to be monogrammed.
The dressmaker left, and Beth resumed her maligned homemade gown. Shewas immediately drawn over to look through the fashion magazines with theduchess. She was prepared to protest if she thought the choicesunsuitable, but otherwise she was resigned to letting the duchess makethem. What did she know of such silly matters?
