Marianne helped milady with her hair and toilette before each event, and she stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, sometimes nodding off in a chair in Wilhelmina’s bedchamber, waiting for her charge to return so Marianne might help her undress and prepare for bed.
After the Season had ended, Marianne had enjoyed a respite from the social whirl—that is until Lady Copperpot had announced last week that the family would be packing up and traveling to Devon to attend Lord Clayton’s house party.
Despite Lady Wilhelmina’s beauty and family connections, the young lady had not secured a match during her first Season. It was the source of much discussion and angst between mother and daughter. In fact, the Copperpots seemed obsessed with seeing to it that Lady Wilhelmina secured an engagement as soon as possible.
So, when Lord Copperpot had received an invitation to Lord Clayton’s summer house party, there had been considerable joy in the household on Hertford Street in London. Apparently, Lord Clayton had a number of friends who were bachelors, each of them highly eligible.
Marianne had just picked up the last article of clothing that had been left on the floor—a delicate pink satin reticule—when the door opened and Lady Copperpot and Wilhelmina came traipsing into the bedchamber.
“I’m not pleased, I’ll tell you that,” Lady Copperpot said, dropping her golden shawl from her shoulders onto an emerald-green velvet tufted chair near the door. Her voice took on a nasally quality when she was irritated, and she was most certainly irritated at present.
“They might still arrive, Mama,” Wilhelmina replied, kicking off both of her silver slippers and dropping her own silver shawl onto the center of the floor. Marianne scrambled to pick up all three of the items before making her way back to the wardrobe where she neatly arranged both the slippers and Wilhelmina’s shawl.
Marianne had learned in this position that she should be fast and efficient, stay out of the way, and say very little. It was quite unlike her position with Lady Courtney, who often asked her opinion on things and dined with her and spoke to her and never dropped clothing in the middle of the floor.
“I doubt it,” Lady Copperpot replied to her daughter. “I specifically asked Lady Clayton if either Lord Kendall or Lord Bellingham intended to join the party, and she was quite vague. If they were coming, surely she would have said so.”
“One of the young ladies said that the Prince Regent might attend,” Wilhelmina told her mother. The poor girl was always trying to please her mama, who never seemed pleased with much.
“Think, Wilhelmina,” Lady Copperpot snapped, “what good will a visit from the prince do for you? The man is already married. We needeligiblegentlemen here, and there are no two more eligible gentlemen than Kendall and Bellingham.”
Marianne made it her business to look busy arranging the articles of clothing in the wardrobe, but they were all already perfectly arranged. She was nothing if not orderly and efficient, but she did like to overhear Lady Copperpot and Wilhelmina’s schemes. It usually gave Marianne an idea of how well things were going and how long they intended to stay. Apparently, they hadn’t got off to a good start at this particular house party. That did not bode well.
Lords Kendall and Bellingham. Marianne had heard those names before. Mostly because she’d also made it her business to remember all of the names of the eligible bachelors who Lady Copperpot and Wilhelmina discussed. There were scores of bachelors, and all of them were ranked by the ladies in order of eligibility.
The only names that had been higher on the list than Kendall’s and Bellingham’s last Season were those of the Duke of Worthington, who was apparently a drunken lout—although a young, handsome one—and the Marquess of Murdock, who was no longer a part of their discussions because he had become engaged to the fortunate Lady Julianna Montgomery during the Season, thereby crushing the hopes of many a mother/daughter pair.
Kendall and Bellingham, however, hadn’t been present at any of the events of the Season. At least as far as Marianne could discern, and apparently, the two gentlemen remained eligible, as evidenced by Lady Copperpot’s desire for them to attend the house party.
“Surely, there will be others here, Mama,” Wilhelmina offered in a gentle voice, clearly trying to appease her mother again. “Lord Kendall and Lord Bellingham aren’t the only two eligibles after all. And didn’t you say Lord Clayton is known to associate with the Duke of Worthington?”
Lady Copperpot rolled her eyes. “Yes. They are said to be fast friends, butWorthingtonis a bit of a lofty goal for you, Wilhelmina dear, don’t you think?”
Her face still hidden in the wardrobe, Marianne winced. Lady Copperpot tended to say such things to her daughter. Things that were hurtful and a bit mean as far as Marianne was concerned.
Marianne thought back to her own childhood. Her parents’ home hadn’t been stately or grand, but it was filled with love and the laughter of her parents and her two older brothers. There may not have been things like fine clothing and jewels and balls, but there had been joy. Marianne couldn’t imagine either one of her parents saying anything as cruel to any of their children as Lady Copperpot said to Wilhelmina on a daily basis.
Marianne shook her head. She had lingered long enough. It was time to retreat from the room as unobtrusively as possible. She shut the wardrobe with a soft click and padded toward the door that connected Wilhelmina’s room to that of her parents.
She was about to leave when Lady Copperpot’s voice stopped her. “Oh, Marianne, dear, there you are.”
Marianne couldn’t help her wry smile, one that thankfully Lady Copperpot couldn’t see. She’d been in the room the entire time, and Lady Copperpot acted as if she’d just noticed her. That happened quite regularly.
“Will you please take my shawl into my room by way of the corridor, so that you may ask one of the housemaids to bring us tea?” Lady Copperpot continued.
Marianne swiveled around and curtsied. “O’ course, milady,” she responded. “I’d be happy ta.” She hurried over to where Lady Copperpot sat and pulled her shawl from the back of the chair. Just before she left the room she asked, “The usual fer tea today, milady?”
“Yes, please,” Lady Copperpot replied curtly.
“Thank you, Marianne,” Wilhelmina said with a soft smile. She might be untidy, but Wilhelmina was kind. She always made it her business to thank Marianne. Not that Marianne expected thanks.
She’d been briefed by Lady Courtney to ensure that she remained quiet, useful, and efficient, and to never expect special treatment. The most one could hope for in some positions in London households was a lack of abuse, regular meals, access to some medical care when one was ill, reasonable accommodations, and wages paid on time. The Copperpots certainly weren’t abusive, and they treated her with respect, but they rarely thanked her or showed her much notice, unless Wilhelmina was around.
Marianne returned Wilhelmina’s smile as she slipped from the room. She’d intended to go down the servants’ staircase at the back of the manor to find a housemaid and request tea, but as it happened, a maid was passing by when she exited the room.
After sending the order along with the maid, Marianne hefted the shawl in her hands, turned, and made her way to the entrance of Lord and Lady Copperpot’s bedchamber.
The room would be empty. Lord Copperpot was out riding with the men this morning. Milord’s valet, a man named Broughton, drank to excess and rarely did any work when his master wasn’t watching him. And Lady Copperpot’s maid, Mrs. Wimbley, was aged and didn’t walk up and down stairs more than she had to. As a result, Marianne had taken over a great many of Mrs. Wimbley’s duties in order to help the older woman.
