An Improper Companion (2 page)

“Why did she not write you a reference?” he asked.

“We had a disagreement,” I said in a small voice.

“Quite. And have you no relatives?”

“I know of none, sir.”

“I see. And you wish to be a companion? Yes, well, are you aware of the responsibilities of a companion?” he asked kindly.

“I believe so, sir. I would be expected to fetch things, read aloud, perhaps write letters, and perform similar tasks,” I replied.

“Yes, well, our requests for companions are for often somewhat different duties,” he began.

“Please, sir,” I said so naively, “whatever the duties, I am certain I can learn them. I must find a position. Today. I—I have no money.”

He sighed. “Very well. I shall see what openings we have.” He pored over his ledger. “I am sorry, my dear, there seems to be ... Wait, Sir Leslie Kinwell. Stand up please!” I stood. Mr. Thornsby circled me, eyeing me carefully. “Have you other clothes?” he demanded.

I shook my head. “Very well, we will try you,” he said. Then, in explanation, “Sir Leslie is somewhat eccentric. He has requested ‘someone unusual, this time’ to use his precise words. He will explain your duties to you himself. Sir Leslie is a generous man. He has provided funds for your journey and for a few suitable garments, if necessary. In this case, I believe it is necessary. This afternoon we will see a dressmaker.”

“Thank you, sir,” I managed to say, astounded by my good fortune. I had not expected to find a position so easily, nor with such an open-handed employer. “Wages?” I asked.

“You will settle that with Sir Leslie,” he answered. “Wages will be suitable to your qualifications and how well you please your employer.”

I did not, even then, consider the position or the interview strange. Nor did I realise how feeble my story must have sounded. I can only say I was too desperate to comprehend fully all that took place. For had I guessed what would be asked of me, I should have fled back to Mrs. Gilwen.

Mr. Thornsby stood. “I think it best we begin at once. Come along and bring your bag.” He took my arm, guiding me toward the door. “Mrs. Kay,” he announced, “no further appointments for the day.”

“But sir,” I stammered.

He seemed amused. “Don’t worry, my dear. Sir Leslie Kinwell is a very important client. I will be reimbursed handsomely for my time.”

We were outside by then and Mr. Thornsby hailed a carriage. He did not seem inclined to speak further and I was content to dwell on my new position. How old was Sir Leslie? Was I to be companion to his mother, or perhaps his wife? She must be a difficult woman or Sir Leslie would not have to seek a new companion for her so often. And he had requested someone unusual. Well, I was determined to satisfy my employer.

“Mademoiselle Suzette’s,” Mr. Thornsby explained, as he handed me out of the hack a short while later. The establishment had a modest facade but even I had heard of its reputation. It was neither the most expensive nor the most exclusive such establishment in London. But it was favoured by many ladies of the
ton
who did not wish to pay exorbitant prices yet wished to be well dressed. My puzzlement grew. It was hardly the sort of establishment for a companion. Mr. Thornsby seemed aware of my astonishment for he said with a grimace, “Not the sort of place
I
would have chosen. However, Sir Leslie has an account here and Mademoiselle Suzette understands what he considers appropriate for any member of his staff. I have said he is eccentric. He feels it simplifies matters if he need only worry about bills from one London
modiste
.”

I nodded. Perhaps Sir Leslie was so plump in the pocket that convenience should always outweigh cost. If this were true and I was satisfactory, I could expect generous wages. Though truly I had no conception of what would be generous and what would be merely customary. As we entered the establishment, a forbidding woman dressed in grey approached. “I believe you have the wrong—” she began.

Mr. Thornsby interrupted her. “Please tell Mademoiselle Suzette that Mr. Thornsby wishes to see her on a matter for Sir Leslie Kinwell.”

The woman’s eyes swept over me with disdain. “I will put you in a fitting room until Mademoiselle has time to see you. This way,” she said.

We followed, I timidly, Mr. Thornsby with calm self-assurance. This assurance was justified for we waited not above five minutes before Mademoiselle Suzette entered the room. “Monsieur Thornsby. What have you for me today?” she asked imperiously.

He took my hand and brought me forward. “Miss Heather Wade. She is to be the new companion Sir Leslie requested.” Mademoiselle regarded me but briefly. “You are hoaxing me!”

“Sir Leslie requested ‘someone unusual, this time.’ Also, he is growing impatient and I have no one else to send,” he replied smoothly. “And Miss Wade is greatly in need of a position. She has no money, and no family or friends to help her. She has assured me she will try to provide satisfaction.”

“I see,” Mademoiselle said sharply. “And where will she stay until she leaves for this position? She has no money but she cannot stay with you!”

“I had hoped she might stay here,” he replied, “with your seamstresses. Tonight. She leaves tomorrow for Sir Leslie’s estate.”

“Now I truly know you are mad!” she said. “What do you expect me to do for her in one day?”

“She only needs a few things,” he said meekly. “Three dresses: one day, one evening, and one other. And whatever nether garments you think suitable.”

“
Tiens!
You ask much!”

“But you will do it?” he asked.

“Yes, yes. For Sir Leslie. I must to take dresses promised other ladies, but yes I will do it.”

“And she can sleep here?” he persisted.

“Yes, yes. Now leave us. You know where my office is. Wait there. I wish to speak further with you on this matter,” she commanded. As he withdrew she turned to me. “Remove your dress, child. I must to see how large you are so I can to find the correct dresses.”

She helped with the buttons and soon I stood in my shift. She had just placed a tape around my waist when, for the second time that day, I disgraced myself. I fainted. In the distance I heard Mademoiselle exclaim, “
Mon Dieu
!”

I came around to find Mademoiselle and a young woman bending over me. “Are you ill?” Mademoiselle demanded anxiously.

“I’m sorry,” I said flushing, “not ill, only I have not eaten since last night.”

“Not eaten?” she echoed. Then to the young woman she said, “Stay with her.
Mon Dieu,
Monsieur Thornsby is a fool. You will have tea immediately.
Betes
!”

She swept out of the room and my companion giggled. “She will ring a peal over poor Mr. Thornsby. Is he your father or guardian?”

I shook my head. “No. He has a domestic agency. He is sending me to Sir Leslie Kinwell to be a companion.”

“Sir Leslie?” she seemed impressed. “Top-of-the-trees, he is. I saw him once. He came here with a young woman.”

“His wife?” I asked.

She looked at me oddly. After a moment, she replied, “No, his—”

“
Tais-toi,
Ellen!” a voice snapped. Startled, we turned to see Mademoiselle Suzette standing in the doorway. “I have ordered a tea, Miss Wade. After you have eaten, we begin. We have not enough of time, even so. Ellen, come with me, you are needed elsewhere.”

As they left I felt a wave of remorse. I had forgotten one of Mrs. Gilwen’s rules: never encourage tradesmen or servants to gossip. Mademoiselle was quite right to be angry with me. But I could not forget what Ellen had said. Sir Leslie was a nonpareil. Well, what of it? I asked myself. That will not concern you. If he has an account here, surely he is married or has grown daughters. He would not stand the nonsense simply to dress servants. I was still daydreaming when Ellen entered with a tray. “Can’t stay,” she said, setting it on the small table, “enjoy!”

Then she was gone—nervously, it seemed. I surveyed the tea tray. The pot was filled with a tea comparable to that served in Mrs. Gilwen’s school. On a plate were several small pastries and buns. I was not quite sure it was all meant for me and at first I was timid in serving myself. No one entered to join me, however, and gradually I grew more bold. As though she had been waiting outside until the moment, Mademoiselle Suzette entered just as I ate the last crumb. “You have eaten it all?” she asked. “
Bon.
Now, we begin. Again with the size. You have a small waist,
bon.
The hips, they are not so small. The bosom, a little small, but do not worry,
mon enfant.
Mademoiselle Suzette knows how to dress this.”

I wondered at Mademoiselle’s concern with my figure. Earnestly, I hoped that Sir Leslie was not the sort of loose-screw w who requested attractive servants so that he might flirt with them. Still worse if he had a young son who was so ramshackle. I was comforted by Mrs. Gilwen’s assertion that a young lady who was careful need never fear improper advances.

“Sit,” Mademoiselle commanded and then she left.

She returned a few minutes later with Ellen, who carried several dresses of various colours and fabrics. Ellen held each in turn against me as Mademoiselle watched. Occasionally she would murmur something such as, “
Tiens!
Not such a colour with her hair,” or “
Mon Dieu,
with this one she looks ill.”

At last the process was completed and all the dresses were scattered on the chaise. “We begin with the green!” Mademoiselle announced. To me she explained, “It is perhaps a little heavy for summer, but the castle is always cold.”

So, I thought, Sir Leslie has a castle. I was eager to know more but dared not ask. As Mademoiselle had promised, the green dress suited me well. It concealed the unevenness of my figure and I was amazed to know I could look so pretty. “Her hair!” Mademoiselle commanded.

Ellen took my chestnut hair out of its severe knot and brushed it, curling the ends slightly with her fingers. Then she pinned my hair so that a curl rested against my neck, a green ribbon threaded through it. The effect in the glass seemed to me enchanting. “
Bon
,” Mademoiselle sighed. “So. The day dress, it is decided. Set it to the side, Ellen. Now we begin with evening. The blue silk, Ellen.”

When Ellen had arranged the dress and stepped back, I felt naked. My shoulders were bare as well as most of my bosom. And in the glass I saw that I looked like a child dressed in her mother’s gown. Mademoiselle shook her head regretfully. “I cannot to make you older than you are. Ellen, the dress for Lady Welton’s daughter.”

Happily, I exchanged the silk for a more modest gown of gauze and satin. This time the choice was a success. My only concern was that Sir Leslie might consider me too daring or presumptuous in wearing such a lovely dress. I said this to Mademoiselle and she smiled, “I know Sir Leslie well. He will approve.
Bon,
this also is decided.”

“Lady Welton’s daughter?” I asked tentatively.

Mademoiselle grimaced. “Mon
Dieu,
that child. Nothing will improve her. Another dress will do as well. Better this one for you.”

The third was chosen with little discussion. There was but one ready that might be worn by me as an afternoon dress. I was fortunate that it was a gentle shade of primrose and not unkind to my features. Mademoiselle Suzette was as relieved as I when the choices had been made. “
Enfin
!” she sighed. “We must to make little changes here and there and so with this one. But all will be ready. The rest is no difficulty. We must to have a trunk but this Monsieur Thornsby brings already.
Tiens!
Sit, child.”

This last remark was addressed to me and I was happy to obey. There are few occupations (for a gentlewoman) more tiring than the fitting of dresses. The selection of three gowns, with the subsequent pinning and marking, had absorbed more than three hours. I was grateful that Mademoiselle Suzette felt there would be no need for a session for fitting undergarments. I was alone, once more, in the little room. Ellen had left with Mademoiselle; one to alter my new dresses, the other to supervise her busy establishment. The extent of Mademoiselle Suzette’s attention to me marked the importance she attached to Sir Leslie’s patronage. I did not mind being left alone. I only hoped someone would remember me later when dinner was served to the seamstresses.

I should have realised, of course, that Mademoiselle Suzette was far too efficient to forget any task and that no doubt was how she viewed me. She sent Ellen to summon me to the evening meal she presided over. There were six of us, that evening: Mademoiselle, Ellen, myself, the woman who had greeted Mr. Thornsby in such a top-lofty manner (I thought of her as Dragon), and two young women slightly older than Ellen. The meal was eaten in a silence broken only by Dragon and Mademoiselle Suzette. To my surprise, there was no cutting up stiff over mistakes made during the day, though I had gathered from Ellen that several had occurred. My respect for Mademoiselle Suzette increased, for it seemed she gave few sharp setdowns. Dragon, however, I found quite odious. The feeling seemed mutual. Often, as I glanced at the head of the table that night, I discovered Dragon regarding me with unconcealed disapproval. I could not understand her enmity. Did she feel I was encroaching? And could this alone account for her dislike? It never occurred to me that she knew or cared about my new position and that this was the basis for her disapproval. After dinner, Mademoiselle asked me to stay behind. When the others had gone back to their work, she asked if I could sew. I replied that I could. Well? Again I said yes. She seemed pleased.
“Bon.
There is much to do and if you could help with hems...”