Page 24
Today might be the last she’d return to this house as a resident.
Hereafter, she’d only be a visitor; if Mama deemed to invite her, that was.
Jemmah had best not hold her breath waiting for that invitation any time soon.
Unlike Jemmah, Mama did not possess a forgiving nature.
“Good news, miss?”
Pimble puttered about, not doing much of anything, but every moment the maid spent here was far more pleasant than returning below.
“Of a sorts, yes.”
Better not to divulge too much to Pimble, yet. Jemmah slipped the letter into her reticule, afraid to leave it in her room.
“Mama’s up earlier than I expected.”
The servant offered a lopsided, apologetic smile. “And if I may be so bold, in as a foul mood this morning as I’ve ever seen her.”
A wonder Mama had roused herself before noon; a guarantee she’d be crotchety the rest of the day. Far worse for poor Pimble when Mama or Adelinda felt peevish. Both were as prickly and hard to handle as an infuriated hedgehog.
“Jemmah, are you going to dawdle the day away?”
Breathing heavily, her skirts swishing about her ankles, Mama trudged into Jemmah’s chamber. Her pretty, plump, slightly rosy face puckered in displeasure when her gaze lit on the many sketches pinned to the rafters, depicting drawings from new fashions to birds perched upon flowering tree branches.
“I sent Pimble to fetch you a full half hour ago. Whatever is keeping you both?”
Jemmah brushed the wrinkles from her simple Pomona green day gown, or at least tried to, before going to stand before the small, slightly blurry, rectangular looking glass hanging from a support beam.
She smoothed her hair and repinned a few loose strands as she watched her mother in the reflection.
Pimble ducked from the chamber, making good her escape.
Smart girl.
If only Jemmah might do the same.
“It’s only been ten minutes, Mama, and I’m afraid the errand will have to wait until after I call upon Aunt Theo and the dowager takes me shopping this afternoon.” She flicked her fingers toward the arched, four-paned window, the lower right divided by a long crack. “The carriage already awaits outside.”
Scrutinizing her reflection, she frowned.
Dark circles ringed her eyes, and the dress, a brilliant shade on Adelinda, made Jemmah’s skin appear sallow. She did quite look forward to acquiring a gown or two in hues which flattered her coloring, rather than wearing more castoffs from Adelinda, as Jemmah had for as long as she could recall.
Did that make her shallow, or simply a typical woman who enjoyed looking her best?
Especially now that she had a reason to care about her appearance?
Drat, if only she had a fichu to drape about her neck to diminish the gown’s ill effects on her appearance. Perhaps she could leave her redingote on?
“Tell me what it is that you need, Mama, and I shall be happy to take care of it before I return home. Or perhaps, if the matter is terribly urgent, Pimble or Adelinda might attend to it for you.”
Not the least mollified, her mother angled away from the table where she’d been poking about, occasionally scowling or grimacing at something she saw.
“Don’t get impertinent with me, young lady. You know full well Pimble has more than enough to do, and whilst you reside here, you’re expected to do your share.”
As Adelinda does?
“You’re not Lady Lockhart’s pampered pet just yet,” Mama snapped, as she tossed the drawings she’d been examining onto the scarred, uneven table top.
