Authors: Kathryn Caskie
What had just happened? Though she couldn't put a name to it, something had changed in the depths of her soul, warmed within her, and she knew for certain that things would never be the same between them again.
As she reached the square, fingers of soft light cut through the cloud cover and etched a pathway upon the cobbles. She had just stepped onto the slick, wet pavers when movement to her right caught her notice.
There, leaning against the corner of a building, was the tiny man. Somehow, his clothes had remained dry, and he was leisurely eating a crumbling bit of Sally Lund bread.
Jenny stopped walking. Why, he was grinning at her. "Good afternoon," she called out tentatively.
But the little man said nothing. Instead, he raised his hat from his oddly shaped head and tipped it to her. Then, he leaned on his outer leg, and with a slight limp, disappeared around the corner.
Jenny followed, eager for a little adventure, after all. As she rounded the corner, however, she was completely dumbfounded. She looked down the empty street in both directions. The little man was nowhere to be seen.
******************
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"And just where have you been?" her mother snapped the very moment Jenny opened the service door and entered the kitchen.
Jenny shrugged off her wet wrap, hoping her mother wouldn't notice it belonged to her, and slipped it on a hook beside the fire to dry. She daren't tell her mother where she was ... or that she had been with Callu
m
. That bit of information would not sit well with her at all. "
I
... had errands to run, and was caught in the rain. Had to wait it out."
"Well, change into your black and whites and get yourself above stairs. The ladies wish to have a chat with you, right
now."
"With me? Did they say why?"
Her mother folded her arms tightly across her chest. "And why would they confide in me? Just hurry yourself along if you want to keep your position, gel. The ladies have been waitin' three-quarters of an hour already."
******************
A mixture of apprehension and dread filled Jenny's belly as she scratched on the drawing-room door a few minutes later and waited for admittance.
"Come in, gel, and take a seat," came Lady Letitia's voice. "We've been waiting for you all morn and have a matter of great concern to speak about with you."
Jenny did as she was bade, and sat nervously across from the two Featherton ladies.
Lady Viola leaned forward. "Child, are you playing our game because you enjoy mingling with the ton? Or because you feel some affection for the viscount?"
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Jenny
'
s eyes wedged to the right. There was a right answer, the perfect reply to appease them enough that they'd allow the game to continue ... if only she could find it.
"No, gel, I shan't have you ponder the question and tell us what you
believe
we would like to hear." Lady Letitia leaned close as well. "Look to your heart."
Against her better judgment, Jenny raised her gaze then and spoke without thinking of the consequences. "I do love playing the lady. For me, 'tis a dream come true."
Lady Viola slumped back against the settee with a forlorn sigh.
Rising, Jenny moved before the fire in the hearth and stared pensively into its licking flames and opened her heart. "But today, wel
l
. . . something changed inside of me.
Lady Letitia rose and laid her hand on Jenny's shoulder. "What do you mean, gel? What happened today?"
Jenny turned around, and reluctantly recounted her brief, yet emotional encounter with Callu
m
in the abbey.
By the time she finished, great tears were rolling down Lady Viola's cheeks, cutting white tracks through her powder and rouge.
A knowing smile laced Lady Letitia's lips. "You
love
him."
Jenny looked up at her, and shook her head. "I didn't say that."
"You didn't need to, my dear." Lady Viola sniffed back her tears and dried her cheeks with the handkerchief her sister gave her. "But it is clear nonetheless. You mightn't even know it yet yourself, Jenny. But from what you've told us, your hearts met in the abbey.
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Maybe only for a moment, but it won't be the last time, I promise you that." She leaned forward and held Jenny with the most potent of gazes. "Why, I have a notion that the two of you are falling in love."
Jenny flinched at that.
Preposterous.
They shared a moment of tenderness. She eased his pain. She paused then. Was there more to it? Was she falling in love with Callu
m
?
The sound of hands clapping drew Jenny's gaze to Lady Letitia
,
who was prancing, as best she could given her heft and swollen ankles, around the drawing room gleefully.
"
''Tis exactly as we'd hoped, Sister. A love match in the makin
g
—
a
real
love match!"
There was a rustling sound at the drawing-room door, then it flew open and Meredith backed into the room, her arms laden with a huge parcel. "It's here, Aunties. Come and see!"
At once the ladies set aside their views on Jenny and Callum's attraction, much to Jenny's relief. Lady Viola struggled to her feet and the three women joined Meredith around the polished mahogany table in the center of the room as she tore the muslin wrapping away.
With a gasp of pleasure, Jenny stared at what lay before her. There beneath the scraps of muslin was the most beautiful evening gown she'd ever seen.
She couldn't help herself. Jenny bad to touch the fabric.
Snatching it up, she shook it from its folds and marveled at the creation. The evening gown was made of vibrant midnight-blue sarcenet draped over an icy white satin slip. The waist was short in accordance with all the latest fashion magazines, and topped by a daringly low bodice. The cropped, full sleeves cascaded over the
97
shoulders, and fell deliciously low in the back. Around the waist was a sash of blue satin ribbon fastened in a petite bow in the back.
Were she to wear this gown, no one would be able to take their eyes from her. And most especially not Ca
ll
u
m
.
Jenny lurched with surprise.
Callu
m
?
Lud, where had that thought hailed from? That notion came quite out of the sky, didn't it?
Tucking the distracting thought in the back of her mind, Jenny held the dress up to her shoulders to view it more carefully. The gently flared skirt was ornamented with a deep trimming of net, and finished with niched rows of more blue satin, which would produce a light, ethereal effect, particularly when Callum swirled her around in the ballroom. Lud. There he was in her thoughts . . .
again.
Once more, Jenny tried to put her thoughts of Callum aside and instead focused her attention on her new gown.
Golly.
That was assuming the gown was meant for her.
Oh, it had to be. Just had to be. It was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen!
Well, she wasn't about to wait around to find out while her heart was already claiming it for its own.
"Your gown is lovely, Miss Meredith. Though I daresay," she added cleverly, "I would not have chosen quite this shade of blue for you." Then she glanced sidelong at Meredith who laughed in response.
"No, silly. Aunt Viola had the gown fashioned especially for
you."
"For me?"
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Lady Letitia chuckled to herself. "Come now, gel, you know you have need of it."
"We are not too old to recall the feel of wanting to look fetching for a beau." Lady Viola smiled warmly.
Jenny's innards somersaulted. Oh, this was too wondrous to be true. The gown was hers.
Hers!
"Oh, thank you, my ladies. Thank you ever so much."
"No need to thank us, my child. You have no idea the happiness you are bringing us." Then Lady Viola's eyes widened and she slapped her fingers to her lips.
This odd reaction was not lost on Jenny. It was almost as if Lady Viola had erred and said something she shouldn't have. But Jenny couldn't think what that might have been.
Lady Letitia hugged her sister to her. "Now, now, Viola, you've done nothing wrong by simply admitting the joy we glean from observing love in blossom."
Lady Viola smiled meekly then and nodded her head. "Quite right."
Still, Jenny watched the old woman's countenance carefully. Something wasn't being said. Oh, how she wished she had the gumption to probe deeper. But she knew she had to remember her place.
She was a lady's maid in the household. Nothing more.
Jenny glanced down at the dress once more and smiled with delight.
Meredith gave her a little nudge. "Well, go on. Run and try it on. I am quite beside myself waiting to see how it will look upon you."
Jenny smiled so broadly that her cheeks actually smarted. With the gown hugged tightly to her chest, she dashed below stairs.
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******************
Not a full day later, the opportunity to wear the midnight-blue evening gown presented itself. Lady Viola had extended an invitation to Lord Argyll to join her and her sister, Meredith and Lady Genevieve in their private box at the Theatre Royal.
While Jenny had certainly seen the theatre's imposing entrance on Beaufort Square, she never dreamed she would ever attend a performance there. Let alone in a gown that could have inspired an entire page of description in
La Belle Assemblιe.
That night, their party entered the Feathertons' private box, one of only twenty-six, Jenny noted proudly, through a private home adjoining the theatre. A suite of retiring rooms, including a saloon, adjoined the private box to ensure the occupants complete and luxurious comfort.
In fine gentlemanly fashion, Lord Argyll assisted the two Featherton ladies to their seats. Within an instant, Lady Letitia's plump finger directed Meredith to sit between them, a measure no doubt intended to more easily monitor the untamed young lady's conduct.
Only then did Jenny realize that she and Callu
m
were to sit behind the others, quite out of sight of the Feathertons' watchful eyes.
Had this been any other eve, this situation would have suited Jenny quite nicely. But not tonight. Despite the fact that she was clothed in the most exquisite gown in Bath, Callum had hardly glanced at her.
It wasn't hard to discern why, after their emotional exchange at the abbey. Still, understanding his reason-
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ing did nothing to make his inattention easier to bear. For now, when she craved his notice more than ever, he was all but ignoring her.
Ridiculous tears began to fill Jenny's eyes, and she turned away from the viscount, pretending to peer through the gilt lattices separating the Featherton box from the next. But when the play began, this ploy was no longer feasible, and she focused her blurred eyes on the cast-iron pillars at the edges of the box. Soon, her tears threatened to breach her lower lashes and she was all but forced to study the fancifully painted ceiling in order to maintain her dignity.
Bah! Why was she acting so foolishly? She should just wipe her eyes and concentrate on the stage play. After all, she'd never seen one before, and it would serve her well to imbibe a little culture, now wouldn't it?
And so, without looking away from the ceiling, she loosened the cinch of her reticule, and jammed her fingers inside for her handkerchief. Unfortunately, her new and therefore rather stiff kid gloves made her perception by touch virtually nonexistent and she was forced to peel down one glove and remove it completely to accomplish her aim.
Then he touched her.
Callum's own bared hand grasped hers and squeezed it reassuringly. Without thinking of the tears poised in her eyes, she tore her gaze from the ceiling and looked at him with astonishment.
With the downward momentum, two heavy droplets spilled over and splashed her cheeks.
Suddenly Callu
m
held his own square of linen before
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her, apdshe took it gratefully. It felt warm in her hand and she pressed it to her eyes to dry them.
Oh,
no.
He didn't take it from his .
.. Jenny glanced sidelong in time to see Argyll fastening the sterling buckle upon his sporran.
Oh Lord above, he did.
When she looked up again, she saw that he had followed her wayward gaze. He grinned at her, and ran his thumb along the side of her hand.
Jenny gasped, a tiny bit too loudly, for Meredith glanced over her shoulder at them, and upon seeing their bare hands clasped, let out a giggle.