Her eyes flitting from drawing to drawing, Belinda found the least elaborate one in a bottom corner. Pointing at it, she said, “Actually, I prefer this one.”
The coiffeur shook her head, intractable.
“Non. Zat would not flattermademoiselle.” She waved her hand at Belinda’s reflection to emphasize the obviousness of her ruling, then pointed again at her original two offerings. “I will make zees one or zat one.”
“Oh well, if I must…”
Reconsidering her apparently gauche request, Belinda could feel, rather than see, her aunt trying not to laugh as she stood nearby.
Both of the allowable styles had the bulk of the models’ hair piled high in loops and braids while the front and sides had been curled into tight ringlets.
That lofty one just might scrape the ceiling, so I suppose I will choose ‘zees one’. If I don’t like it, I can pull at it a bit once she’s gone.
Once Belinda indicated her choice, Céline positioned her away from the mirror, and got right to work. Over the next half-hour, Lindy was heard to say, “Not very high, if you please”, and “Keep to mind, I prefer subtle to striking”, but it seemed that the coiffeur’s understanding of the English language had flown right out of her head as she did not pause once while she combed, pulled, twisted, plaited and pinned the plenteous locks in her grasp. When the tongs that had been set near the fire were sufficiently heated, she curled the loose tresses around Belinda’s face, separating them expertly into delicate tendrils.
When finally her hands grew still, she pursed her lips, and studied her handiwork from every angle. Then, with a Gallic shrug, she announced, “J'ai fini. You may look now,mademoiselle.”
Preparing to hide a cringe, Belinda turned to the looking glass and gasped with delight at what she beheld. Her hair looked positively elegant, the soft curls framing her face emphasizing her large doe-like eyes.
“Oh, Lindy,” Aunt Rose breathed, coming up beside her. “Thank you, Céline. It is exquisite.”
“Très bien, madame,” the coiffeur murmured as she wrapped the curling tongs in a strip of thick leather. Then, packing all of her tools away, she muttered a singleau revoirand was out of the door even before Belinda had finished admiring her reflection.
Rose lifted the gown from the bed and helped her niece maneuver her way into it, carefully, that Céline’s work would not be spoiled. When the hooks and eyes were all done up, and the soft lengths of the skirt were smoothed over her many petticoats, Belinda looked into the glass again, noting how the royal blue fabric brought out the roses in her cheeks. She ran her fingers over the soft ruching of the wrap-front bodice, and could not deny how well the gown suited her. One look at Rose’s face proved she was also well pleased.
“You look perfect, dear niece.”
Perfect for what?Lindy wondered as she murmured her thanks, her pleasure turning to unease.Is she thinking of the ‘eligible young men’ that she told Mamma awaited us in London? Perhaps she called in Céline hoping to increase my chances of making a match this very evening.
“You mean I look like a proper companion for a fussy old grand-dame?”
“Should you choose to become one, yes.”
This answer pulled Lindy’s mind to a more practical problem.
“Aunt Rose, how will we make it known that I am looking for employment?” She imagined herself sitting stiffly on a highback chair while a bevy of old women circled around, studying her from head to toe through their lorgnettes. “I cannot very well hang a sign around my neck.”
“Belinda, understand this: No one will be choosing you. Rather,youwill be choosingthem.”
“Forgive me, but it cannot be that simple. Nell told me all about the snobbery she encountered here, and surely Society is more ready to accept the daughter of a wealthy gentleman than the daughter of a cottage-dwelling coachman.”
“Let’s just go to this simple little rout tonight, and rewarding connexions will be made. Then, I will canvass the families who appeal to you. There’s no need to rush into anything.”
I suppose scurrying around like a frightened mouse will not help matters at all.Raising her head, Belinda met her own eye in the mirror.I must be self-assured – or at least pretend as if I am.
Rose squeezed Belinda’s arm, offering her a plate of cheese and apples that Minnie had just brought in. “Here. Eat something before we go.”
***
An hour later, Belinda stood with her aunt and uncle in front of the grandest home she had ever thought to enter. Her confidence, tenuous from the start, had nearly vanished.
‘A simple little rout’, indeed!she marveled, staring up at the red brick building.Three, four…is itfivestoreys high?
Lindy clutched at her aunt’s arm as they went up the wide staircase to the front door.Oh Aunt Rose, what are you taking me into?
Once inside, a liveried servant led them to a parlour to present them to their hostess. Their arrival was hardly noticed by any of the other guests who filled the room. Some were seated, some standing, engrossed in conversations, games, or just sampling theamuse-bouchesfrom the little plates they held. As George quickly became engaged in lively conversation with a fellow from his club, Belinda stood alongside Rose, warily surveying the room.
“Poor dear, you’re trembling.” Rose patted her hand, though her voice lacked any actual concern.
