Langdown Manor (14 page)

I took an immediate fancy to Flo's mother. She looked just like Flo when she smiled. And she made me feel welcome, which I never did at the houses of Arabella's friends.

‘Flo has told me so much about you,' she said. She wanted to hear about India, too. She even asked about Father. But her questions never made me feel uncomfortable.

Arabella seemed eager to flaunt the connection that she had earlier seemed to despise. But she had to flaunt it at a distance. The invitation to tea was for me alone. After tea, when Flo's mother had kindly left us alone, I told Flo what a relief it was to escape from Arabella's company. ‘She's resented me ever since I came,' I said. ‘I don't know why.'

‘She's jealous,' Flo said immediately.

‘But why?' I said. What reason could Arabella have to be jealous of me? She – the eldest daughter of a wealthy lord!

‘Oh, Polly, why do you think? Because you're ten times prettier and a hundred times nicer and more fun. My brother thinks so, too. I can tell.' She gave me an intent look.

I felt my cheeks go pink.

Flo pounced. ‘You like him, too. I knew you would.'

Flo doted on her brother, and I was flattered that she cared what I thought.

‘How could anyone not?' I laughed. My words seemed to disappoint her. I tried to think of something complimentary I could say about her brother. ‘He has lovely eyes – so gentle,' I said. He did – they reminded me of Starshine's. But I couldn't tell Flo that her brother's eyes reminded me of a horse!

Lord Ferdinand Waterlow had come in while we were at tea. I was sure that Flo had arranged it. Ferdy Waterlow was shy and ungainly with long arms and legs that he didn't seem to know quite what to do with, and cursed with a stammering tongue he could not control. ‘M-m-miss Penelope,' he had stammered, his face pink. Then he'd tripped over a footstool, and had retreated to a chair where he sat blushing. I had tried to draw him out but I could get hardly a word out of him. But I'd often caught him gazing at me, and I knew that Flo had, too. ‘He is clumsy,' she'd said when he had stammered an excuse and left us. ‘He stammers because he minds what people think of him. But he has the kindest heart in the world.'

‘Can you curtsy now without falling over?' I said now to turn the conversation away from her brother.

Flo pulled a face. ‘Just about. But I'm not sure if I'll manage when I have to curtsy to their majesties. Mother told me about her presentation. She said that she was so nervous that she thought she'd never get her knees to bend, but no one noticed. So I must not be afraid.' She laughed.

I was silent. My heart ached for my mother. Aunt was as vigilant as a mother, but made no attempt to try to understand me, and was too bewildered by me to show me any true affection. But Flo. She had a mother who loved her, who she could talk to, who could advise her how to behave in society. Not that I cared, truly cared, what society thought of me. But I had to survive the next few months somehow, I had to pretend… Fred had said it would be hard. And it was.

‘Can you – curtsy without wobbling, I mean?' Flo asked.

‘Sometimes,' I laughed.

Before I left Flo showed me her presentation gown. ‘You'll look beautiful,' I said, admiring the little embroidered flowers that trimmed the cream satin.

‘Will you show me yours?' Flo asked.

‘When you come to tea,' I said. ‘But I warn you Aunt has designs—' I stopped, feeling that I had said too much.

‘On my brother, you mean?' said Flo. ‘She is not alone. Half the ladies in town want him to marry their daughters. But I am determined that only a girl I approve of will be allowed to marry Ferdy. He has promised to ask my permission,' she said. ‘And I will be firm on one point. She must care for him, as much as he does for her.'

I felt a rush of warm feeling for Flo. ‘So money does not matter?'

‘It does a bit,' she admitted. ‘But more to Mother than to us. But isn't that beside the point? I don't expect he'll meet anyone who is not eligible in
that
sense.'

I thought of Fred and I knew then that I would never be able to wholly confide in Flo, sympathetic though she was. She would never understand how I could have feelings for a stable boy. The polite society in which Flo moved was her whole world, and she seemed content enough with it. But the world that contented her felt like a straitjacket to me. I longed to look beyond it. She had no desire to.

‘I have two more cousins, neither at all like Arabella,' I said. ‘I hope that you'll meet them, too. Clemmie is still a child. She's sweet. You'd never believe that Arabella could have such a nice sister. Then there's George, her brother. He's still at university, but will come down for our coming-out. He is rather wild.' I told her about our drive and how we'd nearly crashed into the carriage.

‘That doesn't surprise me,' said Flo. ‘I've not met him, but I've heard about him. Him and his friend – David Moore.'

‘You know him – David, I mean?'

‘By sight. I've never met him, but I've heard stories about him. His name has been linked with several ladies – if I can call them that,' she pursed her lips disapprovingly.

I remembered how David had promised to teach me to fly, and what he had told me about the suffragettes. But these were subjects I felt I could never share with Flo.

When the carriage was brought round, Lord Ferdy came to bid me farewell. ‘I h-h-hope I will see you at Lady M-Montjoy's ball,' he said. I said I'd be pleased if he did. He went bright red, and Flo smiled at me warmly. I felt as if I were two girls – one leading the decorous life expected of me in society, the other – the real me – I had to try and conceal. Was this how Mother had felt? I felt sure that it was.

‘Are you ready?' George smiled at me.

As ready as I'll ever be!

I took his arm and he led me out into the centre of the room. My heart was beating fast. Now now now, it was happening, the moment I'd dreaded for so long, my arrival into young ladydom, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to avoid the eyes that I knew were on me. Admiring? Criticizing? What were they thinking? How I wished I were back at Langdown.

I was one of several girls being hurried out before our presentation at Court. Uncle had already paraded Arabella to the room, their faces flushed with pride. Aunt I could see was watching me closely.
Behave – and I'll soon be rid of you.
I kept my eyes straight ahead. I was in white – a colour that didn't suit me – my hair rolled up on top of my head, flowers in my free hand. I curtsied – the deep Court curtsy I had practised at Langdown. I didn't feel like me at all. I felt like a doll. I told myself that the parade would soon be over.

My dance card was already nearly full. George had claimed the first as his privilege. ‘It isn't seemly to dance with a cousin,' I'd said primly. I did not want to dance with Cousin George.

‘Piffle!' he'd said. ‘We'll show them how it's done, Pen. You've had enough lessons!' I didn't like the familiar way he spoke to me, nor the way he tightened his grip round my waist as he led me back out on to the dance floor. I wriggled uncomfortably. ‘Sorry!' he said. I could smell wine on his breath and I turned away my head in distaste.

If I didn't look at him I could pretend that it was another who was whirling me around the room. If only I could shut my eyes … it would be so much easier to pretend… I shut them and felt myself stumble. That was a mistake – George's hand immediately tightened on me. He said something, but I wasn't attending. I was thinking about Fred. I'd had a letter from Fred that morning. As soon as I could I'd rushed away to read it in private, reading it again and again until I knew it by heart. All three of my cousins had been with me when Barrett had brought me the letter. I shivered, remembering the unpleasant little scene that had occurred when it was delivered. Arabella had been waiting for a letter of her own, and had seized it off the salver. ‘You must be mistaken, Barrett, it is for me,' she'd said rudely. Her face fell when she saw my name on the envelope, but she soon collected herself again. ‘What's this?' she had said, staring at the envelope. ‘I didn't know you had any friends living near Langdown?'

My heart gave a great thump. ‘It's mine, Arabella, please give it to me.' I held out my hand for it. Arabella smiled spitefully. She held it up above her head.

‘Ask nicely, and I'll see,' she said.

‘Give it to Polly,' Clemmie said.

‘No, I don't think I will,' Arabella said.

‘You're just horrid, Arabella,' Clemmie said furiously. ‘It's not yours. Give it here now.' She lunged forward to grab it but Arabella whipped it behind her back.

George's head popped out from behind his paper. ‘Can't a chap be allowed to read in peace!' he complained. ‘For goodness' sake, Arabella, give Pen her letter.'

Arabella replied by dropping it on the floor behind her chair. I marched over and scooped it up. I saw George's eyes slide to me as I thrust it into my pocket. ‘Aha. Secret, is it, Pen? A billet-doux from one of your many admirers?' Arabella's jealousy had got the better of her; she jumped up and, giving George a furious look, slammed out of the room.

Alone, I'd torn open the envelope, my eyes skimming the words on the page, before going back to read them slowly. For days I'd been expecting a letter from Fred. I had dreamed what he might write to me.

‘
Darling Poll, I miss you so much. At night, I lie in bed thinking of you, dreaming of when I will hold you in my arms again. One day this torment will be over and we will be together for ever…'

The words Fred had actually written barely covered one page.

‘Dearest Poll,'
he had written in black ink.
‘I am thinking of you and missing you. I am not good at finding words for what I want to say, and there is so much I want to say, but I don't know how to, so I hope you will understand and not be disappointed. xxxxxxxxxxxx'
The kisses had filled up the rest of the line. I'd pressed my lips to them, wondering if he had done the same before he'd sealed the envelope.

‘There is so much I want to say.'
What did Fred want to tell me? As I was whirled around the ballroom I let myself dream of all the things he might want to say to me but found too hard to put into words. I came to myself to see that George was staring at me. The music had stopped. My feet had been dancing of their own accord. I had completely forgotten where I was. ‘You were miles away,' George said. I hoped he wouldn't start teasing me again, but he simply led me over to the wall and deposited me among a bunch of girls who were waiting disconsolately for partners. He walked away at once. I felt that I had been rude, but if it meant that he'd leave me alone, I wasn't sorry.

I leaned back against the wall. The room was a blur of music and dancing feet and candlelight. The evening had hardly begun and I had partners for every dance. One after another boys came up to claim me – among them young Lord Ferdy Waterlow. If Flo hadn't gently nudged him I am sure he'd never have found the courage to ask me.

‘Are you eng-g-gaged for this dance, Miss P-P-Penelope..?' he had stuttered. His face was scarlet as he put an arm round me. We stumbled around the ballroom. I lost count of the number of times he stepped on my toes.

‘I believe it is my turn to claim you, young lady,' a familiar voice said. I smiled as David Moore bowed before me. He led me on to the floor, his arm encircling my waist. David didn't step on my toes, or drag me round the floor as some of my partners had. ‘You've changed,' he said. ‘Is it the gown? Or the hair?' I felt myself blush as his eye travelled from my hair to my slippers. Pristine white when I had put them on, they were slightly stained now from the eager tramping of many boys' clumsy boots. ‘The charming young girl has become an elegant young lady.' He smiled. ‘But is that all?' he said, giving me a searching look. I felt my cheeks grow hot again. His eyes twinkled. ‘I'll learn the truth one day; until then, how does it feel to be a young lady? Are you so much the young lady now that a ride in a plane will be frowned on? Or are you still a rebel?' he said as we circled the room again. I caught Aunt's eye. She smiled but her smile looked strained and her eye soon left me to wander the room – and I felt I knew why. Arabella had disappeared downstairs some time ago, and had not yet reappeared. I'd seen her when I went to check my hair and repair the hem of my dress that a boy had stepped on once too often. She had glared at me. Unlike me, her dancing slippers had barely begun to exercise themselves.

Like the other chaperones, Aunt had taken her seat in a gilt chair by the wall. The chaperones guarded us fiercely, their eyes roamed the ballroom constantly. Were their charges behaving properly? Why were they not dancing, or where had they disappeared to? Some of the girls hung about the door, their faces downcast, waiting for partners.

I turned back to David. ‘Do you need to ask?' I said jestingly.

‘So you've joined the ranks of the suffragettes?'

I shook my head.

‘Why ever not?' he said. ‘Many of our grandest society ladies are secret members of their set. Didn't you know?'

‘What difference does that make to me? I'm never allowed out on my own.'

‘Ah, the chaperone. I will have to introduce you to more suitable company.'

‘Will any of them pass my aunt's scrutiny?' I asked.

‘I see that word has got around. Yes, my reputation is not all that it should be, I admit. It would be wise not to be seen to dance with me too often – though no doubt the lady dowager, my mother, will be pleased to see me dance with a respectable young woman.' I felt his hand tighten slightly on my waist.

‘If Lady Moore hopes that I will reform you, it is a poor hope,' I said.

‘Ah, still a girl of spirit. So many of the girls here are so dull, they simper, they have nothing to say for themselves. They don't know how to dress, or conduct themselves. You, my dear Penelope, are most refreshing.'

I'd spoken in jest, but the warm look he turned on me made me feel uneasy. I pulled away slightly.

‘Where shall I take you?' David said as the music stopped. I scanned the faces for one I knew. My eye fell on Arabella, who had emerged from her hiding place and was staring disconsolately at the dancers.

‘Take me to my cousin.'
Let her see whom I have snared.
‘And why not ask her to dance, too.' I was joking but to my surprise I heard David's voice behind me, asking Arabella for a dance. I sat down in one of the gilt chairs to rest my feet before my next partner came to claim me.

While I waited, I gazed around me. I saw the mothers scrutinizing the room for eligible partners for their daughters, the girls competing for compliments, their eager desire to be married before their friends. If only they knew how I despised them, and the empty lives they led – their days spent dressing up, going to balls and parties. There had to be more to life than that. I was longing for the ball to be over. I had no shortage of partners but I was bored stiff. How dreary they were, these eligible young men. How little I wanted to dance with any of them. I yearned to be on my own, to think about my letter in peace.

Baxter plaited my hair for me before I went to bed. She asked me about the ball. I danced every dance, I told her. She seemed pleased. I thought of the girls who'd now be eagerly talking about their partners. I wished I had someone to confide in. I longed to talk about Fred. I thought about the letter he had written me. Even that had to be secret. I had to keep everything I felt about him secret. And I found myself wanting to talk about him all the time. But I couldn't. Sometimes I felt I'd explode with longing for him. How hard it was – even harder now that I was away from him. Did he feel the same? I wondered as I lay in bed trying to sleep. How much longer would we have to pretend? One day I was afraid I wouldn't be able to – everything I felt would simply burst out of me. But I had to try – for Fred's sake, if not for mine.