Papa’s Little Duchess
By Celeste Jones
Chapter One
"Poppy! You cannot cut your doll's hair! What will Miss Wickersham say?"
Marigold turned to see Violet pointing an unladylike and accusatory finger at Poppy who stopped, scissors in mid-air. "Oh pish. Miss Wickersham has something to say about everything," Poppy retorted.
"And why should she not?" Lily asked, her voice gentle and diplomatic. "Miss Wickersham has provided all of us with a comfortable home, plentiful food and the prospect of a well-to-do husband. It is certainly more than I ever dreamed."
Poppy relented and set down the scissors. "I cannot argue with that." She sighed. "I never knew what it was like to have a full stomach before coming to Talcott House."
Marigold studied her friends as they sat on a blanket in the garden of Talcott House, each holding a chinahead doll with long hair which they were meant to be styling. In the center of the circle sat baskets of ribbons and pins for the dolls' hair as well as miniature combs and brushes.
Marigold, for a variety of reasons, did not care for styling hair, whether on a doll or person. However, she was wise enough to be grateful for the safety and security that Miss Wickershamand the patrons of Talcott House provided for her and so she did not complain. All things considered, she had certainly been in much worse circumstances than spending a pleasant spring afternoon outside amongst friends.
She breathed deeply of the fresh, flower-scented air and contemplated her own good fortune at the hands of Miss Katrina Wickersham. Though she had never been forced to live on the streets as Poppy had been, Marigold had had her share of fear and uncertainty.
"Nor a soft bed," Lily added. Marigold did not know a great deal about Lily's life before her arrival at Talcott House—none of them spoke of such things if it could be helped. They were encouraged to look toward the future. Given new, flower-themed names, each of the Little Ladies of Talcott House were quickly transformed from street urchins or those seeking refuge from the abuses of the world, to proper young ladies who would be suitable as wives for some of England's most discerning, and affluent, gentlemen.
Without much thought, Marigold's fingers worked the hair of her doll into a stylish arrangement. "Mari, how is it that you are always able to do such fancy things with your doll's hair while the rest of us seem to only create messes?" Violet held up her doll, whose blonde hair was rather a bushy tangle.
Marigold, not always wishing to be the center of attention, blushed and looked at her doll. "I suppose I have always had an affinity for it," she replied.
For a moment, Mari recalled a time when styling hair took up a significant part of her days. And failure to produce an attractive coiffure on demand…well, that did not go well for her, to say the least.
“Mari? You-hoo, Marigold!” Violet waved her hand in front of Marigold and she blinked, coming out of her reverie, happyto realize she was in the garden of Talcott House and not in her former residence. Among friends and not her shrewish relations.
It had been nearly a year since she’d arrived at Talcott House, but the memories continued to haunt her. Fortunately, they overtook her mind less and less frequently these days.
“She's off with the fairies,” Lily said with a kind smile.
“My apologies,” Marigold said. “Sometimes the past resurfaces unexpectedly.”
The others paused and were quiet for a moment.
“I think it happens to all of us,” Lily said. She had a far-off look in her eye and Mari assumed she was reminded of her previous life as well.
“Enough of the dreary thoughts,” Poppy said, setting aside her doll and looking at the others with eyes filled with excitement. “You’ll never guess what I saw in Miss Wickersham's study.”
“What were you doing snooping around Miss Wickersham's study?” Lily asked, eyes wide. Lily would never snoop.
“I was not snooping!” Poppy's eyes flashed with indignation.
“Do tell,” said Violet, setting aside her doll and giving Poppy her full attention. “You had to sit in the naughty chair, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, if you must know every tiny detail, I had been sitting in the naughty chair. For no good reason, either.”
“You were just visiting Miss Wickersham and decided to sit in the naughty chair?" Violet asked with a smirk.
“Fine,” Poppy said, giving them all a glare and jutting up her chin. “If you want every detail of why I was there, you'll never hear what I found out. Garland will be here soon to make us march back inside.”
“Garland doesn't make us march.” Marigold felt compelled to defend the older girl who was a helper to Miss Wickersham. Although no one knew for sure, it seemed obvious that MissWickersham had never managed to find a husband for Garland, who, truth be told, was rather plain. Despite her aversion to hairstyling, Mari could not help but imagine the difference a more flattering coiffure might make on the dour young lady.
“Do you want to talk about Garland, or…” Poppy paused dramatically, “the fact that there is a duke looking for a bride who will also be his Little girl?”
“A duke!” Even the usually genteel Lily flushed with excitement.
