Death of a Fop (Bow Street Consultant series Book 1) (11 page)

“I beg you, Miss Bates,” said Caleb, “draw that little ninny away and let poor Mrs Churchill rest; can you perhaps find her some small task for you that you might say you would have asked your niece to aid you with – untangling embroidery silks say, tangled by the journey? I cannot but feel that she will fatigue Mrs Churchill who is too sweet natured to repulse her.”

“Oh! How
WISE
you are, Mr Armitage!” declared Miss Bates. “Yes, the poor silly child wishes to be helpful but does not understand how she is tiring poor Jane; I shall go immediately!” she leaped to her feet with alacrity to follow the two younger women.

“Will her determination to help you place Jane in danger?” asked Mr Knightley straight out, once the gentlemen were alone together.

“She is already in danger – as is that girl Dolly – while these murdering villains are uncaught and while they do not have the necklace that Frank Churchill stole from them,” said Caleb, “that I fancy they may suspect Dolly has still, hidden from Mrs Churchill. Which is why I am here. Being involved keeps her from worrying as much; and she is a shrewd and clever lady who has helped me a great deal. I do anticipate an attack upon her; and I am on my guard, Mr Knightley, and Fowler too is carrying arms at night. I will guard her with my life.”

Mr Knightley nodded.

“Then I shall commend her and her household into your hands, Mr Armitage. May I say that you should proceed in other matters slowly and with great patience. Jane has a lack of openness to her character that I hold to be her only flaw; but as you enjoy word plays, may I say too that a degree of Franklessness may lead to an increase in frankness. However I can see that she considers you a friend; and whatever else happens I shall hope that you continue to be so.”

“Gawd you ain’t half a peevy cove” said Caleb shocked into blushing.

Mr Knightley chuckled.

“You know too much cant for me to do more than guess at your meaning; but if I surmise that you mean I can see further than my nose, well I cut my eye teeth long since! I have stood in the same shoes as you with as much hope and as little expectation; so I wish you well. An honest man with the compassion to have that poor little hussy diverted rather than dash what was meant as a kindly gesture on her part tells me more about you than anything else. I bid you good evening; I shall try to get over to town again in a couple of weeks, but all depends on when my anticipated heir decides to make his or her appearance.”

“Oh don’t you worry about leaving your lady” said Caleb. “I’ll take care of Mrs Churchill as tender as any.”

“Yes Mr Armitage; that you will” said Mr Knightley.

Jane awoke refreshed next morning until she arose; when waves of nausea swept her.

She swallowed hard as a temporary measure and leaned over to pull the utensil from under the bed hurriedly so that the heaving of her stomach could empty itself safely. She rinsed out her mouth with the glass of water she customarily kept by the bed, since she was a poor sleeper much of the time.

She rang for Ella.

“Mrs Jane, my dear, what is it? I hoped to see you better this morning with a good sleep; but you look that queer!” said Ella.

“Ella I pray you, empty that,” Jane gestured to the utensil, preferring not to look at its contents, “and bring me a piece of dry toast and some weak tea.”

“Of course I will, Mrs Jane my love!” said Ella, not usually given to endearments. “Are you ill or is it….”

“I have not had my flux that is usually so monotonously regular” said Jane. “I would not have wondered seriously though for another day or two; but this seems fairly conclusive. Perhaps you will arrange to have me brought weak tea and dry toast daily ere I rise.”

“That girl Dolly might as well make herself useful in organising that” said Ella.

“Unless she turns out to be in the same interesting condition” said Jane dryly.

“Well until or unless she is, she may as well do what she can” said Ella firmly. “Lie in bed all morning she shall not; for if she is to have the training of how to be a dressmaker she may as well begin with care of clothing and she shall help me make up your blacks my dear Mrs Jane and I shall help her to make up her own mourning if you’ve a mind to buy the fabric for her.”

“I did plan to; it is an excellent idea, Ella; most clever of you that she shall have some gain from her early lessons. But please, just take that away.”

“Of course; I am sorry” said Ella whisking off with the offending article. The tween maid Polly returned it in a few minutes with a curtsey and Ella herself followed bearing a cup of weak tea and dry toast cut into fingers to dip in it. Jane grimaced; she disliked this valetudinarian breakfast but she acknowledged that it settled the queasiness very well.

And then she might rise and even partake of a little proper breakfast with Aunt Hetty and Dolly and Mr Armitage before sallying out to purchase both fabric and jewellery.

“Are you too fatigued from yesterday to go out, Mrs Churchill?” asked Mr Armitage sharply.

“Oh, not really” said Jane “You may as well know; I shall have to inform Mr Jasper Churchill through Mr Chorleigh; it would appear that there will be a posthumous child as a sibling to Frances.”

“I am hardly sure whether congratulations or commiserations are in order” said Caleb dryly. She gave him a thin smile.

“I fear that at the moment I could not engage to answer accurately as to that myself” she said. “My feelings are somewhat mixed; though I try to remind myself that a sibling for Frances would be pleasant for her. The awkwardness however of bearing a posthumous child does weigh somewhat on my mind however.”

“And the fact that there will be those who will spread unpleasant gossip” said Caleb. “You should tell your aunt; for I believe that the news that you are definitely with child so soon after your husband’s death precludes the possibility of any whisper that the happy event was concluded after he was, as you might say, out of the way.”

Jane flushed.

“Bluntly put, Mr Armitage; but your words are wise. I shall do as you suggest. Aunt Hetty will write to grandmother who will require the letter to be read by Emma and as she – grandmamma – is deaf, half of Highbury will know by the day after tomorrow,” she grimaced slightly, “and Augusta Elton will be making spiteful comments that I should get with child again so quickly like some brood mare” she added. “But at least I shall not have to listen to her snide comments dressed up as caring concern.”

“She sounds a singularly unpleasant female” said Caleb.

“She is” said Jane. “She is also a vulgarian; and her family money was made in the slave trade which I despise; why we do not, in my Grandmother’s household, even drink coffee, because it comes from the labour of slaves; and we use only maple sugar not plantation sugar, or German root sugar when it is to be had.”

“I had wondered that you never served coffee,” said Caleb, “but now I see; it had not occurred to me that it was produced by slaves.”

“I who expected a slavery of the spirit as a governess am alive to the more awful truth of enslavement of the body as well” said Jane. “And in answer to the question of whether I am fit to go out, I am as fit as I shall be until this matutinal nausea passes; and that may be several months. I will not faint to cause you embarrassment.”

“It would distress me, Mrs Churchill; but would never embarrass” said Caleb. “Though I should be relieved if you did not wear your stays too tight if you pardon my mentioning such.”

Jane blushed.

“Thank you for practical advice, Mr Armitage” she said “I shall take it.”

Shopping was always an exciting experience, at least for Jane, who so rarely had managed to shop for much more than remnants. Frank had required her to be well dressed, which was another budgetary difficulty and had required much juggling and retrimming; but she was armed with an advance from Mr Chorleigh that Mr Knightley had induced the solicitor to give her in order to purchase suitable mourning wear. To be known as too nipcheese to provide blacks for a widow would not be a good advertisement for Mr Chorleigh; and as Mr Knightley’s brother was a senior and well thought of clerk of court Mr Chorleigh knew fine well that the more fashionable barristers might be persuaded to pass him over when taking briefs which would not be disastrous but would be a dent in his firm’s income and also sufficiently embarrassing that he might even lose other custom too.

Thus Jane sallied forth with a lump sum far more than she believed necessary; but that was all to the good, for she might then save enough to actually purchase, if it became necessary, the odd piece of mourning jewellery to convince the jewellers that she was truly interested.

Oxford Street was the street for drapers’ shops; and Jane intended avoiding fashionable places such as Layton and Shears in Leicester Square, or any of the shops in Bond Street for the less modish shops where one might actually get service from one of the men who served in the shop rather than having to deal with a crush. In Oxford Street too there were haberdashers and glovers, fringe and trimming sellers and plumassiers; so that she might purchase all the trimmings and feathers necessary for hats and gowns all at once.

Dolly was in transports of delight.

“You must remember to be temperate in your expressions of joy” said Jane. “And I believe too we should call you Dorothy, since that is what Dolly derives from; it has more dignity. Dolly is too juvenile a name.”

“Me ma allus called me Dorothy” said Dolly wistfully “She said it’s what she named me and what she intended me to be called. Lawks, I’d almost forgot!”

“Then we shall respect your mother’s wishes” said Jane, thankful that her suggestion had met with so positive a reaction. Dolly was a good name for a baby, a…. well a female of Dolly’s profession; or a sheep.

Mr Knightley had a sheep called Dolly, a prize beast which produced healthy twin lambs year after year and had a tendency to wander and get into trouble. Perhaps there was something in a name.

It was not so cold as it had been the year before, the year without a summer; but Jane was glad that they might purchase heavy fabrics for mourning. Bombazine was always serviceable – and might too be given to an upper servant to wear out once out of mourning – and kerseymere would be warm. Black crepe was de rigeur and might too be an overgown on a plain white muslin for its fineness which would do on hot days. Five and three quarter yards per dress length would be almost thirty shillings for the bombazine, but less for the other fabrics; really by making up the dresses herself there was so much saving over a modiste; indeed if she and Ella cut the gowns out, then Ella could take the pieces to a girl she employed for a modest sum whose sewing was fine enough so long as she did not have to design or finish a garment. Ella and Jane had made with her help on plain seaming and hemming many a garment that it pleased Frank to believe had come from a modiste on Bruton Street.

How he might imagine she could, on the allowance he gave her, pay in guineas what the gowns she wore had cost in shillings had never ceased to amaze Jane; Frank was so unobservant. And really too so utterly ignorant about money.

But Frank was not here to spoil her enjoyment of the fine fabrics; and she might dress as she pleased not worry about the latest kick of fashion whether it suited her or not that Frank always insisted his wife should wear.

Aunt Hetty too was greatly enjoying herself, for Jane insisted she should have a new gown too; Aunt Hetty already wore sober cotton prints most of the time, or plain drab; but a pretty length of lavender crape and a deeper shade of kerseymere to put with it was something Jane was determined she would purchase to add to the plain worsted gown; and would make a pretty half mourning gown so that Aunt Hetty might proclaim some familial association but not so much as wearing black, and then she might be stylish too. Aunt Hetty had taught Jane to sew and to keep house and to make a shilling go further; and she deserved pretty things. And lavender might be acceptable as half mourning but it was also a pretty colour to wear at other times too if worn with white gloves not grey. And with kerseymere at quite seven shillings a yard it would be a sinful waste not to use it again after Frank’s funeral when Miss Bates would no longer really need mourning.

The cost of bombazine – a dress length was ten guineas – could not be helped; and Jane would be in mourning long enough to make it worth it.

Gloves they needed too; grey for Aunt Hetty – who had really had no need to go into full mourning at all – and black for her and for Dorothy, in which fashion she must get into the habit of thinking of the girl; and black gloves too for all the servants too to attend church in, and an extra pair for Fowler to answer the door. And Frances should wear only half mourning too; black for a baby was too impractical to readily launder. Some more of the deep lavender kerseymere and otherwise white cotton would be quite sufficient. Black ribbon trims on white lawn was sufficient.

It was not as though Frances actually knew her father to miss him; she had so far had more contact with Mr Armitage.

Armed with Jane’s purchases, Ella and Dorothy were to be sent home in a hack, while Jane, Aunt Hetty and Mr Armitage went on to seek jewellers. However, there was a delay while Mr Armitage went in search of a Hackney carriage; and Dorothy was hailed by a girl clinging to the arm of a dissipated looking gentleman. His clothing was that of a gentleman but it sat decidedly awry, and his heavily veined nose spoke of too much fondness for too much liquor. He wore a moustache which may have been intended to give him a military air but somehow gave the impression of having grown with the same haphazard carelessness that he appeared to have put on his clothes.

“’Ere, Dolly, waddya doin’ dressed as a swell mort?” demanded the girl, pretty enough in a rather coarse way, her face over-rouged and her lips redder than could be achieved without artifice; her white and coquelicot striped gown was a masterpiece in its way in managing to both display and yet somehow not lose from its tenuous control her aggressive bosoms.