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Authors: Fenella J Miller

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‘Are you cross
with me, Miss Devenish? Please do not be, I cannot bear it when people are
cross.’ Emily’s eyes were tearful and she wrung her hands.

Marianne stepped
forward. ‘No, of course I’m not cross. But I do need to make my requirements
clear. Shall I go back downstairs and speak to Lord Grierson?’

Emily nodded.
‘Yes, I will take you. Papa will sort out everything to your satisfaction.’ She
smiled ingenuously. ‘Your money is a godsend, Miss Devenish, without it there
was not the wherewithal to pay the bills this quarter.’

Marianne hid her
smile. It would appear she was to be surrounded by pleasant well-meaning
simpletons. ‘I’m glad I can be of help. Now, Miss Grierson, will you direct me
to Lord Grierson, I wish to explain my needs before any more misunderstandings
occur.’

 

Lord Grierson pronounced
himself delighted to house the staff anyway she pleased. A small cottage
attached to the stables was offered for John and Jane, and Tom and Billy were
given a large room above the fodder store.

Lady Grierson
informed both girls that the local mantua-maker was to visit that very evening
after dinner, which was to be served immediately.

‘We keep early
hours here, my dear. Lord Grierson does not hold with eating late.’ Lady
Grierson beamed and nodded vigorously and her cap slipped further askew. ‘We have
supper before we retire so you will not go hungry, I can assure you. As you
have nothing to change into we are dispensing with formality tonight. We will
dine as we are.’

 

After a
substantial dinner served
a la
francais
, the dishes placed in the centre of the vast
polished table and handed back and forth amidst much laughter and friendly
banter, Lady Grierson led her daughter and their guest through to the
comfortable drawing-room, leaving Lord Grierson and his two sons to the port
and a game of billiards.

Emily, directed
to the pianoforte played a selection of pretty tunes with verve and surprising
competence and Marianne was left alone in blessed peace to take stock of her
surroundings.

Finally she was
able to relax. Unused to company, apart from her maid, the noise and bustle of
a large family was overpowering. And they all, apart from Charles, talked so
volubly. Her ears were ringing from it.

If she was to
survive three years at Frating Hall she would have to find herself a sanctuary,
somewhere she could be quiet and have space to think. The tinkling notes of the
piano soothed her jangled nerves and she closed her eyes allowing her mind to
drift back over the past few hectic hours. The handsome face of her guardian
appeared before her. What a shame he was a feather-brain, but at least he
wasn’t vicious and likely to misappropriate her funds.

But what if Sir
James discovered her whereabouts? Would Sir Theodore be able to protect

her then? She shook her head. For
all his bulk a man more interested in the shine on his boots than his ward
would be of little use against the determination of such a villain.

She shuddered
and sent up a fervent prayer that using a different name and hiding in the
Essex countryside would prove sufficient to keep her out of trouble until she
reached her majority and was no longer vulnerable.

 
 
 
 
 

Chapter
Three

 

‘Not long now,
Miss Devenish, if you please. I’ve almost completed my measurements.’

Marianne
obediently raised her arms and the diminutives seamstress scuttled round
measuring tape in hand. A young assistant laboriously recorded the final set of
figures on her page.

‘There, Miss
Devenish, all done. If you would like to peruse the copies of
La Belle Assemblée
and
Ackerman’s Repository
that I have laid
out in your parlour, I will continue with Miss Grierson’s measurements.’

‘Thank you, Mrs
Dawkins.’ Marianne smiled at Emily who was already standing on the stool in her
chemise. Neither of them had been given the opportunity to order even one new
gown recently, let alone a whole new wardrobe.

‘Mama says we
should only have white and pastel shades as we are only just out.’

‘Is that
correct? Well, Miss Grierson,
you
must do as Lady Grierson instructs.
I
shall do as I please.’

Marianne sailed
from the room determined nobody was going to dictate to her what she should or
should not wear, least of all Lady Grierson. Her hostess had already selected
at no expense to herself, fabrics and patterns enough for a dozen new gowns.

In the parlour
the second girl waited pencil at the ready to record her choices. Marianne sat
on the shabby
chaise longue
and
waited for the girl to hand her the pile of fashion plates. Her enthusiasm for
clothes had waned as the evening progressed.

‘This would suit
you, Miss Devenish. The new look with the high waist is ever so easy to wear.’

Marianne glanced
down at the sketch of a gown in spotted dimity, with short gathered sleeves and
a scooped neck edged with ribbon. The one was very like another. As she had no
desire to attract attention it surely would be safer to dress plainly? She had
behaved foolishly in Bath, her inexperience almost being her ruin; now she
wanted to remain quiet, not draw attention to herself until she had learnt how
to go on from Emily and Lady Grierson.

‘That one will
do. In fact, I’ll leave your mistress to choose. I want plain gowns, no-frills

or unnecessary ruffles and ruches.
I prefer the necklines to be high and the sleeves no shorter than elbow length.
Apart from that, I don’t care.’

‘But, Miss
Devenish, what fabrics do you want? Mrs Dawkins can’t make things up if she
doesn’t know your preferences.’

Marianne flicked
through the samples finding nothing she liked. ‘I don’t wish to have pastels or
white. Why have you only brought those to show me?’

The girl thought
for a moment before replying. ‘Lady Grierson gave us clear instructions on the
matter but I’m sure we can accommodate your requirements; we have a huge
selection stored in our Emporium in Colchester.’

Marianne
shrugged, losing interest in the whole proceedings. ‘I care little what colour
or materials you use. Just remember I don’t want fussy gowns, nor do I want
pastels or white.’

‘The list Lady
Grierson gave stated you will need two evening gowns, a ball gown as well as
morning dresses, afternoon dresses, habits and as many matching shawls,
pelisses and
redincoats
as you wish. Do you wish
madam to select all these?’

‘Yes, indeed. I
have no experience in such matters. I’m leaving it entirely to Mrs Dawkins
discretion. I’m sure she’ll know what is suitable.’ She headed for the door
wishing the fitting for Emily was also completed and she could retire.

Holding her
candlestick aloft she stood undecided in the passageway. She had no desire to
join her garrulous hosts, kind and welcoming they might be, but she could not
face another barrage of inconsequential chatter. She craved the companionable
silence she had shared with her staff for most of her life.

Although full
dark there was a handsome moon which would give more than adequate illumination
for a visit to the stables. She always felt more settled after spending time
with her dapple grey gelding, Sultan. The sound of supper trays arriving in the
drawing-room hurried her passage.

She had no wish
to be dragged in to share tea and cakes. The back entrance would surely lead
outside.

In the tiled
hall she was faced with several dark corridors which all seemed to lead in the

correct direction. She selected the
one on her left and crept along more like an intruder than an honoured guest.
She heard the sound of male voices approaching and inexplicably decided to
conceal herself.

She stepped into
a window embrasure snuffing out her candle as she did so allowing the heavy
curtains to hide her. She held her breath and waited for the Grierson boys to
pass, sincerely wishing she hadn’t been so foolish. She didn’t mean to
eavesdrop but was given no choice.

‘It’s too light
to go out tonight, Charles. We’ll have to leave it until
it’s
overcast again.’

‘We have ’til
the end of the month, but if they are not delivered by then we’ll not be paid
you know that, Edward.’

‘Then there’s
ample time left to accomplish our task. The weather’s set fair and the moon
will still be full. I have…’

She didn’t hear
the reply as the voices and footsteps faded into the darkness. She remained
hidden trying to make sense of what she had overheard. Why would they wish to
deliver anything in the dark? Surely no legitimate business was conducted at
night?

Her fists
clenched and she froze as an awful possibility occurred to her. The only thing
delivered when people were asleep was contraband. Could she be living in a
house of smugglers? No - there must be another explanation.

All desire to go
outside vanished and now she had no candle. She had no
choice,
she would have to follow the wall until she arrived back in the entrance hall.
How she would explain her clandestine appearance she had no idea and prayed she
would not be forced to do so. Her luck held and she met no further members of
the family. She was left with the option of the supper tray or returning to her
parlour in which were the mantua-maker, her assistants, and Emily Grierson.

As she hesitated
at the foot of the stairs Miss Grierson appeared. ‘Oh, there you are, Miss
Devenish. Are you coming in to supper? Mama will wish to know what we’ve
selected.’

‘No, please
excuse me to Lady Grierson, I have the headache and intend to retire.’

Emily arrived in
a rush beside her. ‘Of course you must go up, dear Miss Devenish. Shall I fetch
you a tisane from the kitchen, it is no trouble.’

‘Thank you, Miss
Grierson, but my
abigail
will attend me. She’s well
used to dealing with my megrims.’

‘If you are sure
then, I will come to bed as quiet as a mouse I promise you.’

Marianne spoke
without thinking. ‘I would much prefer to sleep on my own. I am not accustomed
to sharing. This is a vast house; surely there is somewhere else I could be
placed which would not oblige you to share with a stranger?’

Emily’s woeful
expression and tearful eyes made Marianne feel ungrateful.

‘Mama had
thought you would like to be with me, that we could become friends that way.
It’s no trouble for me to share my rooms, I do assure you.’ The girl brushed
her tears away. ‘I will sleep elsewhere tonight, Miss Devenish, and not disturb
you. Tomorrow we will make a different arrangement more suitable to your
tastes.’ She dropped a formal courtesy. ‘I will bid you goodnight, Miss
Devenish.’

Marianne
returned the gesture. ‘Goodnight, Miss Grierson.’

Far too late to
apologize, the damage was done. She had needlessly upset Miss Grierson who had
volunteered to share her apartments out of kindness. Feeling wretched for she
had so wished to please her new family, Marianne retraced her steps and was
relieved to find the parlour and bedchamber empty apart from her maid.

‘Jane, I’ve
behaved disgracefully. I upset poor Miss Grierson for no reason.’

‘Oh dear, and
she is such a kind soul, no malice in her anywhere. It’s not like you to speak
harshly to anyone.’

‘I told her I
didn’t wish to share with her, that I wanted an apartment of my own.’

Jane nodded
unsurprised. ‘Well, if that’s all, I shouldn’t fret. You’re not used to sharing
and no more should you. For by right you should have the best rooms in the
Hall.’

‘It was not for
that reason I spoke. It is her chatter. I can’t live with that. I have grown up
in solitude and prefer to keep it that way.’

‘Don’t you like
Miss Grierson?’

Marianne smiled.
‘She is a dear girl but her understanding is not great and she never stops
talking.’ She stifled a yawn. She almost told Jane what she had overheard but
decided it would be unfair to pass on what was purely conjecture. Time enough
to discuss her fears when she was certain Charles and Edward were actually
involved in something illegal.

‘Is your cottage
satisfactory, Jane? Will you and John be happy there?’

‘It’s a deal
more comfortable than the room we shared at Upton Manor. With a lick of
whitewash and a few gee-
gaws
it will be a palace. The
lads are happy too. The room they have is large and has furniture and shelves
aplenty.’

‘That’s
excellent news. I’ll not require you anymore this evening. Come to me as usual
at eight o’clock. Goodnight, Jane.’

‘Goodnight, Miss
Marianne.’

Unable to settle
Marianne curled up on the wide, padded window seat and scanned the landscape
she could see from her window. The room was at the side of the house and
overlooked the stables and a range of barns and even these appeared charming in
the silver light.

She rested her
cheek against the coolness of the glass and closed her eyes thinking how her
life had changed. She had brothers and sisters and had acquired a guardian and
not the one her grandmother had intended. Her brow creased as she considered
Sir Theodore Devenish. Her initial impression of his intelligence was not
favourable but after careful consideration she was not sure she had assessed
him correctly.

In spite of his
languid air and affected manners his physique was that of an athlete and his
dark blue eyes had held a glimmer of something she could not quantify. But she
knew little of respectable gentlemen; her only experience of men had been the
unsavoury characters who had courted her during her short stay in Bath.

She shivered; the
cotton nightdress kindly lent to her by Emily was too thin to protect her from
the night air. May was three quarters gone, but so close to the North Sea the
month still had a nip to it. Snuggled under the comforter she forced her limbs
to relax, willing sleep to overtake her. She heard footsteps outside on the
cobbles but decided not to climb out and investigate.

 

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