Lady In Waiting (2 page)

Jenny forced a snort of laughter, but as the idea settled upon her, she became very still.

Criminy.
The idea was intriguing, even if a little mad. But the more she thought about it, the more enticing the suggestion became to her.

No, no, this was ridiculous. She couldn't possibly produce enough pots to clear her account
s
—
n
ot without getting the sack from her employers.

Could she?

Rising, Jenny walked to her supply cupboard
,
twisted the wooden door wedge, and peered inside. She was keenly disappointed at what she sa
w
—
o
r rather at what she didn't see. The cupboard was nearly bare. She'd need more emulsifying agent. Plenty more. Gallipots too. Of course she'd have to distill some more Mitcham peppermint.

This was going to be
real
work.

But she would do it. In fact, if she worked very hard, she might even come to terms with her accounts before the last spring leaf unfurled. If not before. She had a society connection, after all.

"Jenny, are you listening?"

She looked up blankly.

"I need to stop by Bartleby's and retrieve some rib-

7

bon for my lady. Care to join me?" Annie scooped up a guinea from the table and flipped it spinning through the air. She grinned as Jenny opened her palm and caught the coin before it hit the table.

"Why not." Tossing the glittering coin atop the pile, Jenny cupped her hand and neatly corralled the ten guineas in the silk bag. She looked up and flashed a jubilant smile.

Annie laughed. "Won't the shopkeep be gobsmacked when you actually
pay
ten guineas on your account?"

Jenny winced a little. "Well, maybe not
the
full
ten. I think I might stop by the apothecary and fetch a few more supplies."

Annie's eyes widened with excitement. "Does this mean you're going to do i
t
—
s
tart a business?"

"A business? Oh, I don't know." Moving to the wall hooks, Jenny crowned herself with her new velvet bonnet, then swept her perfectly coordinated pelisse over her shoulders. "But it can't hurt to have a few more pots of . . .
tingle
cream on hand, now can it?"

Muffling their giggles so they wouldn't be overheard above stairs, Jenny and Annie headed out the door in the direction of Milso
m
Street.

******************

"The man is entirely unreasonable!" Jenny jerked the handle hard, slamming Bartleby's shop door behind her. "Eight guineas I paid him, and still he wouldn't let me put the pearl earbobs on my account." With envious eyes, Jenny glanced down at Annie's neatly tied packet of ribbon.

Annie stuffed the parcel into her basket and drew the

8

linen doily overtop as if purposely hiding it from Jenny's view. "You must owe him an awful lot."

Jenny shrugged. "I suppose. But I am a loyal customer. He should have more faith."

"Can I ask ... how much do you owe?"

"I don't know really. Dropped all his notices in the dustbin. After all, he needn't remind
me
that I owe him payment. It is not as if I've forgotten."

"There's Smith and Company too, don't forget. What was it you put on account there?"

"A black bear muff. You should buy one. Most fashionable this season." Jenny wrinkled her brow as they walked. "I should have brought it today. Would have kept my hands warm as embers."

Annie sighed. "And then there's the jeweler on the Lower Wal
k
—
a
quartet of garnet buttons, wasn't it?"

"Now you must admit
those
were a bargain. All I need to do is replace the shell buttons with the garnets and my pewter gown will be transformed. Why, I've actually saved the cost of a new gown simply by buying the buttons. Really very economical."

Annie stepped before Jenny and caught her shoulders. "Just look at you, Jenny. We're headed for the markets and you're wearing a pelisse of apple-green kerseymere, vandyked with satin! Why do you do it? What need have you for fine gowns and trinkets? You are wasting what little money you earn on this nonsense. You are a lady's
maid,
Jenny. Not a real lady."

"I
am
.
"
Jenny caught Annie's wrists and yanked them from her. "Or I would have been ... had my father married Mama. He was a highborn gentleman, you know."

"Yes, I do know. But, ducks, he
didn't
marry your

9

mother, and you are not a lady, no matter how you dress and adorn yourself."

Jenn
y
was about to snap a retort when the sun's reflection off a large shiny object momentarily blinded her.

When her eyes refocused she found herself looking at the most exquisite, certainly the most modish, carriage she'd ever seen in Bat
h
—
o
r even London.

"Will you look at that, Annie? Have you ever seen anything so grand?" Jenny started slowly toward the conveyance, feeling quite incapable of stopping herself. Come on, I have to see inside."

"Jenny,
no."
Annie ticked her head toward the first pairing of ebony horses. "The footman. He's bound to stop you."

"Oh, botheration. You can keep him busy for me. Come on, Annie, be my friend and chat him up, while I
ju
st go and have a tiny peek inside, all right?"

"Jenny, you
can’t
."

But Jenny's boots were already upon the cobbles and she was making her way to
m
e far door.

Once Jenny heard the sultry tones of Annie's voice mingling with those of the footman, she crouched low and skulked around the gleaming carriage. Rising up, she peered wide-eyed through the door's lower win
d
owpanes.

To her delight, the carriage was empty. Now, if only the door was ... she pressed the latch down, and the door opened. Jenny smiled and gave a wink to the heavens, for someone up there was certainly looking out for her this day.

The scent of new leather slipped through the crack

10

and she greedily breathed in its essence. Oh, this was better than she'd hoped.

And what with the door being open, this was practically an invitation to slip inside, was it not? Besides, it would hurt no one for her to indulge herself for just a moment.

Jenny glanced warily in both directions, then, confident she'd not be seen, put her foot on the step and eased herself inside.

Oh, it was all simply glorious. She was almost giddy with pleasure as she ran her hand over the interior walls, resplendent with a gold-pressed crimson silk that perfectly set off the dark burgundy leather benches.

Eagerly, she fluttered her fingertips over the leather-squabs, which were quite easily as soft as fresh churned butter. She eased herself back, allowing her bonnet to settle against the headrest. "Oh,
yes
,
"
she purred. It was like resting on a cloud.

Jenny had just closed her eyes, imagining herself being whisked to the Upper Assembly Rooms for the Fire and Ice Ball, when she heard a man's stern voice.

"Madam, might I be of some assistance?"

Startled, Jenny snapped her eyes wide open and jerked her head upright. She blinked into the cool afternoon light streaming through the open door. Outside the opposite side of the carriage stood a huge, kilted gentleman, who was stooping down and peering back at her.

Do
n
't panic.

Just stay calm.

But already, as she stared back into the man's dark brown eyes topped with scowling brows, she could feel her heart slamming madly against her ribs.

Lud
,
what must he think? She knew what she would

11

think if she found a strange woman relaxing in
her
town carriage. Well, if she had one. She'd think the woman was quite mad. Or . . . maybe a thief.

A thief? Blast!
What if he called a constable?

"I believe ye have mistakenly boarded my carriage," the Scotsman said with a controlled level of gentility that surprised her. "Might I help ye find yer own, my lady?" He leaned back then and glanced down Milsom Street, grimacing slightly when he realized no other fine conveyance was parked upon the cobbles.

"Oh,
I
—" But no other words were coming. Lord help her.
Think, Jenny, think.

Then, inexplicably, the perfect explanation planted itself in her mind. "Kind sir," she managed, lifting her hand weakly to her brow. "Pray, forgive me. My head began to swirl and I needed to sit down. The sensation came upon me so quickly, I was forced to seek my ease inside your carriage."

"Och, I see." The Scotsman seemed to take to her words immediately, and his eyes softened with concern.
"
Has it passe
d
—
t
he spell, I mean?"

She nodded her head and offered a thin smile. "Indeed it has. Just this moment, in fact." Furtively, Jenny laid her hand on the door latch and pressed down. The door sprang open. "I am sorry to have troubled you. I will go now."

A look of surprise lit the Scotsman's eyes, and quite suddenly he disappeared from the far door.

Jenny heaved the carriage door beside her open and leapt down, hoping to escape, but the Scotsman had already circled around and caught her elbow before she could flee.

12

"Please allow me to assist ye by offering a ride to yer home."

A few yards away, Jenny could see Annie, her eyes wide and mouth gaping, standing with the footman near the lead pair of horses.

Jenny turned back to the Scotsman. "No need, sir." She wrenched her elbow from his grasp. "My abigail can escort me. I own, I have fully regained my strength and my residence is not so far away. Again, I am sorry, sir. Do excuse me."

With that Jenny shot up the flag way, hooking Annie's arm as she passed and dragging her along with her.

"Very well then. Good day," the gentleman called out in a confused tone as the two women scurried around the corner on their way to Queen Street.

"Lord above! You're mad, Jenny. I told you not to do it," Annie lamented. "But no, you climbed inside the bloody town carriage anyway."

Jenny slowed her step and stilled. "I know, Annie, but the carriage was
so
lovely. You can't imagine how extraordinary it was. I only wanted to board and see what it felt like to travel like a lady of the
ton.
Just for a moment."

"When are you going to give up your impossible dream of becoming a lady? Do you not see the trouble it causes you? You owe half the shopkeepers on Mi
l
so
m
."

Jenny looked away and shrugged, then urged Annie forward up the walk. "I am well aware of my financial circumstances. But I'll find a way to pay my debts."

"Well, you had better, before Bath's markets send the constables after you for stiffing them."

13

Jenny focused on the swish of her skirts and the rhythm of her boots as she walked, anything to keep from looking her friend in the eye. Annie was right, of course.

But this time, she might actually be able to do something about her debt. The cream could solve all her worries.

Reaching inside her reticule, Jenny retrieved the two guineas she had left. "Come on, Annie. I need to stop at the dispensing apothecary on Trim Street. I have some supplies to purchase."

******************

Later that afternoon, above stairs, Jenny tightened the laces of Miss Meredith Merriweather's ball gown, then tossed the back of her mistress's skirts into the air so she could see the luminous effect the sheer, rose-festooned overdress created.

"Oh, you look like an angel, Miss Meredith." Jenny smiled, proud of her own handiwork. "You'll be the envy of every lady in attendance."

Meredith chewed her lip, and twisted a thick coil of copper hair around her finger. "I'm just not sure, Jenny. I think I might like the saffron gown better. Anything but white. Everyone wears white. This is my very first bal
l
—
a
nd even though I've not come out yet, I want to look my best. What do you think?"

"Both gowns are lovely, miss. And you know as well as I that 'tis the woman inside that makes the gown beautiful."

"I suppose ..."