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Three glorious weeks later.
Jemmah angled first one way, and then the other before the floor length oval looking glass.
The black-edged cerulean-blue walking ensemble was quite the loveliest thing she’d ever seen. But then again, that was what she thought with each new gown dear Aunt Theo or the Dowager Lady Lockhart bestowed upon her.
And each time, she’d insisted they’d gifted her quite enough and forbade them to purchase her a single thing more.
They’d laughed and pooh-poohed her.
One would think it should be easy to become accustomed to the gorgeous gowns, fallalls, fripperies… scented soaps and lotions… enough sleep for the first time in years. But it wasn’t easy, and Jemmah still couldn’t as yet reconcile herself to this new way of life.
Each time she approached the dowager about beginning her companionship duties, the dame dismissed her concerns, insisting there was time enough to worry about that later. She wouldn’t even permit Jemmah to attend her on their evenings out, claiming Aunt Theo more than capable of the task.
Aunt Theo would then take Lady Lockhart’s arm, leaving Jules to offer Jemmah his elbow. She suspected the two of match-making. How could she fault the dears when she desired the same thing?
After supper tonight, they were off to the theater again.
Oh, that first time had been so magical.
In a hastily-altered, borrowed gown of Aunt Theo’s, Jemmah had entered on Jules’s arm, for once appearing in public confident and proud.
Tucked in Auntie’s gallery box, Jemmah had tried to watch the ballet performance, but his hand holding hers, his lips mere inches away as he whispered in her ear, the timbre of his melodic baritone causing delicious little tremors...
Why, she couldn’t even recall the name of the ballet they’d watched.
Dabbing a bit of lily of the valley perfume behind each ear and upon each wrist, she grinned at Caesar sprawled before her balcony doors, muzzle on his black forepaws, and his big soulful eyes watching her every move.
He’d taken to her, almost as if he sensed she needed unconditional love, and Aunt Theo didn’t seem to mind. Or if she did, she kept the knowledge to herself. But Jemmah’s aunt also loved her without restriction, and even that would take time to become accustomed to.
She would, though.
She had every reason to, and he’d be here shortly.
Jemmah’s stomach tumbled in that wonderful wobbly way it did whenever her thoughts gravitated toward Jules. A wonder she could hold her food down with all the cavorting taking place in her middle these days.
“Miss Jemmah, that color becomes you. You look like a real lady, you do.” Mary’s mouth tipped into a cheeky grin as she fluffed the bed’s pillows. “Forgive my impertinence, but your sister would gnash her teeth if she saw you now.”
Undoubtedly.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Mary.”
Within a week of Jemmah’s leaving, Frazer Pimble had approached Jemmah and revealed Mama had dismissed Mary without reference. And since Aunt Theo insisted Jemmah needed a lady’s maid—to do what, for pity’s sake?—quite naturally, Jemmah had been determined to see Mary have the position.
Having two Pimbles in the household caused a bit of a conundrum at first, but Aunt Theo, always one to throw convention into the gutters, advised everyone to simply call the maid by her given name.
After tying her bonnet’s ribbons, Jemmah gathered her reticule and parasol.
Everywhere one looked, signs of an early spring were evident. Including the bright vivid green fern fronds, sunny jonquils, cheery primroses, and the shining orb in the sky splaying its golden fingers across the heavens.
Her heart glowed with warmth every bit as permeating and pleasurable.
These had been the happiest weeks of her life, and sometimes when she awoke in the middle of the night and the familiar despondency cloaked her, she had to remind herself she’d left her oppressive life behind.
Goodness, so much had changed in such a short while.
Not the least of which was Jules’s actively courting her—
Without permission.
