Cinders & Sapphires (12 page)

The streets of London seethed and hummed with human bodies, and the number of rattling cabs and motorcars seemed to multiply every day. The windows of Selfridges and Fortnum & Mason shone with the latest fashions straight from Paris. Ladies and gentlemen of fashion eddied and swirled, bright colors among the drab crush of the common people, sweeping from club to grand hotel to couturier and out again to the theaters and opera and gambling houses.

A select part of this elegant flotsam ended up at the doors of Paul Poiret, the couturier whose scintillating dresses in the latest colors and flowing, Eastern-inspired cuts were worn on every slim, pale shoulder this season. Out of those doors came Fiona, Charlotte, and Ada. The footman followed them, laden down with parcels and bandboxes.

“There really is absolutely no one in London out of season,” Charlotte sighed as she took her place in the cab.

“No one?” Ada looked out of the window at the crowded streets. There seemed to be more motorcars every time she looked. The noise was immense, and her heart seemed to beat along with it.

Since they had arrived in London, life had been a nonstop whirl of visiting, dancing, theater, and shopping for clothes. She barely had time to catch her breath, and her head had hardly touched the pillow when she was being woken by Rose with tea and the plans for the day. She could not say she disliked this life, much as she wanted to. The dress she had walked out with today was called La Vague, the Wave. It was straight and sheer from the chest to the floor, a delicate but strong shape that made her look and feel beautiful. London was like being carried on a dizzying tide, swept far out to sea. All that was needed to make it perfect was just a few minutes with Ravi. For him to see her in this dress. But she had had no reply to her last letter.

“No one at all. I haven’t even seen the Sassoons, and not a single one of the Set. It’s really like being in a desert.” She glanced out of the window and yawned.

“Pleased with your new dress, Ada?” Fiona asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s beautiful,” Ada answered.

“I just hope that housemaid won’t ruin it the first time she dresses you,” Fiona went on.

Ada’s smile faded. “Rose always makes me look my best.”

“You only say that because you haven’t known what it is to have the attentions of a real French-trained maid,” Charlotte said.

“My sister and I are quite fond of Rose,” Ada said firmly. She was tired of this constant refrain. She didn’t understand why her stepmother and stepsister were so set against Rose. Somehow she suspected it was Stella who was behind it.

She turned to the window, hoping to signal that the conversation was over. Great white-faced mansions passed on one side, the park on the other.

“Finally!” Charlotte cried. The cab drew to a halt, and a footman hurried to open the door. Ada stepped down after Charlotte and Fiona and looked up at Seton House with trepidation. She had been nervous about this all day. Mrs. Verulam was the best-known hostess in London, and she knew that Fiona had been working very hard to get them an invitation to one of her select teas. If Mrs. Verulam was prepared to present them to the Sovereign, their entrance into society would be assured.

As the footman helped Ada from the cab, a small voice next to her made her look down. A child stood there, filthy and barefoot, but smiling with black teeth.

“Penny, miss?”

She was so thin. Ada’s heart ached. She grabbed for her purse but remembered too late that she had no money. Fiona carried it all.

“Get away with you!” The footman shooed the child away.

“No—wait—” Ada began.

“Ada, do come along!” Charlotte exclaimed, pushing her forward. She stumbled and almost tripped up the steps.

“But—”

“Really, Ada, there is a time and a place for everything.”

“She was so thin!” Ada had to hiss; they were inside the hall and being ushered forward on a wave of footmen.

“Do you want to help every beggar in London?” Charlotte retorted before the drawing-room doors were thrown open and the sound of conversation and laughter rushed out.

“My dear Lady Westlake!” The old woman who came forward to meet them was slim and wiry and seemingly encrusted with diamonds. She carried a huge fan and somehow contrived to look down at Fiona although Fiona was a good head taller than she was. “I must wish you joy. I hear the wedding was delightful. Charlotte.” She nodded to Charlotte, who simpered in a way that Ada had never seen her do except before young men. “And you must be Lady Ada.”

Ada blushed under the piercing gaze that fixed her.

“Come here, dear.” Lady Verulam beckoned her forward with a crooked finger and examined her closely. “I knew your mother. You are very alike.”

Ada smiled and blushed even more, not knowing what to say. She wanted to find out more about her mother, but it seemed inappropriate to ask, with Fiona standing by her side. Besides, Lady Verulam was already looking away from her. “Come along. I must introduce you to the poet laureate—have you met him?”

Ada sat alone by the tea table, feeling as isolated as the footman who stood statuelike in the corner. She could not stop thinking about the urchin who had begged her for money. She had come from the dark passage beside the house. Ada thought of the dress she had bought, and how much it had cost. Would Ravi really like to see her in it? She was no longer sure. How many pennies had she spent on the dress? How many did it take to feed a child properly for one day?

Charlotte was at the heart of a gaggle of girls who surrounded a famous explorer, giggling and exclaiming as he related tales of slaying elephants and tigers. Fiona and Lady Verulam were speaking quietly together with much raising of eyebrows.

“Watching those two at their dreadful work?” A voice spoke quietly by her shoulder. Ada looked up, startled, to see an elegantly dressed girl with a clever, foxy face smiling at her. “I can promise you that someone’s reputation is dying as horribly as those poor beasts,” she said, nodding at the explorer.

Ada clattered her teacup in confusion.

“Lady Verulam seems very kind,” she said doubtfully.

“When she wants to be, certainly. May I sit here?” The girl sat without waiting for Ada to nod. “But there’s something very shallow in this scene, don’t you think? Shallow and bloody at the same time. Rather like our big-game hero.”

“I was thinking that I was a little bored,” Ada confessed. She was intrigued and amused by the girl’s outspokenness, and decided that she liked her.

“Of course you were. No one with the slightest intelligence could fail to be. And I know you have intelligence.” She smiled. “My brother told me about you.”

“Your brother…” Ada realized why the girl looked familiar. “Lord Fintan!”

“Yes, Laurence. I’m his
beloved
younger sister, Emily.”

“Ah, yes. He spoke of you. He said you were at Oxford.”

“I am. I have special dispensation to come down for a few days to see my family. Lady Verulam is my aunt,” she added.

Ada had no time to be surprised that Emily spoke so cuttingly of her own relative. She put down her cup. “Will you tell me about Oxford? Please? I—I find it so interesting that women can study now.”

“Study, though not take a degree. But even so, I believe it is the most important experience of my life. Hard work, but so very worth it.” Her eyes sparkled. “We are doing something critical. I really believe that. We are showing that women can think. They will have to give us the vote if we can prove we are as good as them.”

“That’s exactly what I think,” Ada exclaimed. “I want to go to Oxford too. I’ve wanted it for so long.”

Emily looked at her seriously. “Are you sure about this? It is very hard work, and we have to live like nuns—there are no parties and balls, you know.”

“I know, but I don’t mind.” Ada thought again of the little girl. “I just want to be of some use in the world, and I want to be independent.”

“Have you read
Woman and Labour
? I shall send it to you. But we can’t talk now.”

Ada followed Emily’s gaze to see Charlotte coming toward them across the room. She was shocked by the expression of anger on her face.

“Emily, dear. How lovely to see you.” Charlotte smiled tightly. “I hoped we would meet in town.”

“And now we have—and I’m delighted to have met your stepsister, also.” Emily smiled at Ada.

“And Lord Fintan?” Charlotte said, her voice tense. “We were so glad to see him at Somerton. Is he quite well?”

“Perfectly, and in the best of spirits.” Ada was not sure why Emily’s eyes danced mischievously as she looked at Charlotte.

Charlotte turned abruptly to Ada. “Don’t you think it is time we left? Mama looks fatigued.”

“Of course…” Ada, startled, got to her feet.

“I will write to you, Ada,” Emily said. “You are staying in town?”

“Yes, at Milborough House.” Ada smiled her good-byes and curtsied to Lady Verulam.

“So distraught you have to leave early,” Lady Verulam said, not sounding at all distraught. “I wish you a pleasant stay in town.”

“Thank you,” Ada said. Fiona looked embarrassed.

As they turned to go, Lady Verulam added, “Ada, I never congratulated you on the elegance of that hat. Very becoming.”

Ada smiled. “Thank you.” She could not help adding, with a sly glance toward Charlotte and Fiona, “My maid, Rose, trimmed it.”

She almost wished she had not spoken, however—both Fiona and Charlotte had faces like thunder and sat silently all the way home.

Rose drew back as she heard voices approaching along the corridor. It was Fiona and Charlotte.

“I really cannot understand what came over you. Lady Verulam is one of the most influential hostesses, you know that! To leave so abruptly after I had spent so long getting the invitation—”

“Oh, Mother, we exhausted this last night. Was I really supposed to stand by and watch her weasel her way into Lady Emily Maddox’s good graces?”

Rose flinched at the venom in Charlotte’s voice.

“I know, I know, but—”

“Mother, do you want me to marry Lord Fintan or not?”

They passed, walking quickly toward the breakfast room. Rose looked after them. Whoever the
her
was, it sounded as if Charlotte hated her.

She went on toward Ada’s room. It was strange being in a new house, but exciting too. The noise of the city was like a symphony that never ended. Even the new accents she heard sounded musical.

Ada was in her peignoir in front of her mirror when Rose walked in.

“Good morning, Rose,” she said, her smile almost beaming. Rose smiled back, wondering what had made her so happy. It could not be another letter from Ravi—none had come since they reached London.

“Good morning, my lady. Did you have a pleasant time yesterday?” she asked as she began to brush Ada’s hair.

Ada hesitated. “I think so,” she said. “At least I now have a beautiful new dress.”

“That can’t be bad, my lady.” Rose went on combing. “Will you be visiting this morning or should I put out another kind of gown?”

“I think we are riding in the Row. Could you put out the new habit, please? And the new riding hat. The one with the feather.”

“Certainly, my lady.” Rose got up to do so, and Ada turned around.

“I had a letter this morning,” she said, a smile in her voice.

Rose looked up, startled.

“Oh no—not from him…” Ada colored, and a little of the happiness went out of her face. “No, this was from Georgiana.”

“Oh? I hope Lady Georgiana is in good health.” Rose was a little puzzled.

“Excellent health. In fact, she is so well that she has been able to play the piano at a soiree held by Lady Fairfax.” Ada turned back to her mirror and smiled as Rose began carefully dressing her hair.

“That’s wonderful, my lady,” Rose said sincerely. She missed her piano more than anything.

“Yes, and she made a very great impression on the people who were there.”

“I’m not surprised. Lady Georgiana plays beautifully.” She pinned up Lady Ada’s hair and examined her work.

“But that’s not why she made the impression, Rose. It was her choice of music.”

“What did she play, my lady?”

“Oh, Rose, you goose—stop looking at my hair for a moment. Can’t you guess?” Ada turned round and caught her hands. “It was your tune. Your ‘Eastern Dance’!”

Rose stared at her in utter disbelief. “My—my—”

“Yes! Oh, don’t worry—she remembered what you said about not telling anyone who had composed it. It sounds as if she made a great mystery of it—trust Georgiana to go to extremes.” Ada laughed. “Listen to this.” She opened the letter. “‘Everyone adored the “Eastern Dance.” I had several people ask me for the music afterward. And what is more, Mr. Vronsky praised it and asked for the name of the composer! When I said I was not able to tell him, he persisted in believing that I had written it myself. Imagine how I felt not to be able to tell him the truth. Anyway, I am sure that Rose will one day get over her modesty and we shall be able to praise her properly. You must tell her she was a triumph—even in her absence.’”

Rose felt herself turning pink, and a huge smile spread over her face. “They liked it! And this Mr. Vronsky—”

“Oh, what an idiot I am—of course you don’t know him. He is a very great pianist, from Russia, who has been performing in England this season.”

Rose stared at her, speechless.

“So if
he
likes it, Rose, don’t you see? You have real talent!”

Rose shook her head in disbelief. A life flashed in front of her eyes like fireworks, a dream of writing music and having it played and being proud of it. Then the fireworks died.

“But please, my lady, you mustn’t tell anyone. You mustn’t let anyone know it was I who wrote it!”

Ada’s face fell. “Of course we won’t, if you don’t wish it. But Rose, I wish you’d think again. People would admire you so.”

Not my mother, thought Rose. If anything was beyond her station, this was. She cringed at the thought of her mother finding out—of Annie finding out, even. They might be happy for her, but she felt deep inside that they would laugh at her for putting on airs. After all, what maid wrote music?

“I’m sorry, my lady,” she said quietly. “And I’m more grateful than I can say, to you and to Lady Georgiana. But I’d rather it didn’t happen again.”

Ada placed a hand on her arm.

“Rose! If anyone knows, it’s me—you mustn’t stifle that flame inside you that feels as if it is yours and yours alone. You must let it burn. You must be proud of it.”

Rose felt tears prick her eyes at Ada’s soft voice. She nodded. “I’ll think about it, my lady. Now, would you like to wear the amber or the amethyst beads today?”