The Ice Captain's Daughter (7 page)

Blast it. I miss her already.

Chapter Five

Friends and Acquaintances

S
IR
W
ILLIAM
, J
ILLIAN
, A
ND
A
UNT
L
ETTY
debarked the train at Paddington station and hired a Hansom cab to convey them to Aunt Letty’s townhouse. Having brought no items of clothing with her, Jillian borrowed a nightdress from her aunt. The following morning, she was obliged to don one of her aunt’s gowns. Although it was made of the finest materials, the dress was far too short in the hem and too loose in the waist.

After breakfast, Sir William summoned a cab to take him to the train station. He promised to stop in Cirencester on the way home, to dissuade Constable Bridges from pursuing his investigation.

“Good-bye, Letty. Good-bye, Jillian. May you successfully excite dozens of well-heeled, handsome gentleman to propose,” he said.

She giggled. “One will do, if he truly cared for me. Can’t you stay awhile? Papa will be in town the first week of May.”

“You are quite welcome to stay, Brother,” Aunt Letty said. “We could use a male opinion on Jillian’s new wardrobe.”

“Thank you, no.” He shuddered. “Discussions of satin, tulle, and lace make me itch. I would only be in the way. Send me the bills and I shall participate by making sure they are paid promptly.”

After Sir William had departed. Jillian turned to her aunt.

“What shall we do today? I should love to go sight-seeing.”

“That will have to wait. First, we must build you a brand new wardrobe from scratch.”

Jillian stifled a giggle. “How dreadful.”

Aunt Letty’s usual reserve gave way to a smile.

“All right, my girl, perhaps there are worse things than shopping for clothes, but you’re not fit to be seen in public in a borrowed dress. Not only that, but you need time for your limp to improve. We don’t want anyone thinking you were born with a clubfoot. What’s worse, we have the engagements to attend within the month.
Tempus fugit!”
She headed for the telephone. “It’s a good thing I have connections.”

In his shirtsleeves, Logan leaned over the pool table with his cue and banked a shot off the rail. Although he sank the ball he sighed. Mrs. Lyman appeared in the doorway of the game room.

“Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Hawkins has come to call.”

The news lightened Logan’s mood.

“Show him in please.”

Mr. Andrews Hawkins entered the room moments later with a broad smile on his handsome face. He and Logan exchanged a hearty handshake.

“Hello, Hawkins!”

“Hello, Logan! I nearly fell off my horse when I heard you’d come back to Idunn Court. I’ve missed your company.”

“And I yours. You look well.”

“As do you, except you seem a trifle thin.”

Logan handed his friend a pool cue. “Not as slender as your hopes of winning at billiards. Are you up for a game or two?”

“Ha!” Hawkins set down the cue long enough to shrug off his cutaway. “You
must
be feeling better if you’re in the mood for a trouncing.”

The two men spent a pleasant morning in a lighthearted competition to best one another at pool. When the score was even, however, Hawkins lay down his cue.

“I’m afraid I must go, Logan. I am preparing to go to town tomorrow for the Season.” He paused. “If you say you’ll travel with me, however, I’ll gladly delay my departure.”

“No, I’m done with all that. I’m a confirmed bachelor now.”

“Come now, Logan. It’s time to get back on the horse, as it were. London won’t be nearly as much fun without you.”

“I’ll think of you often, and wish you much success in evading the Ogleby girls.”

Hawkins slipped into his coat and shook his head, resignedly. “Mrs. Ogleby is quite determined to extract my proposal to one of her daughters, but I am equally determined to withhold it. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t mind seeing Miss Heathrow again, nor Miss Fairley. Logan, it would help me pluck up my courage if you were there to cheer me on.”

“I’ll be there in spirit, I assure you.” Logan shook his friend’s hand in farewell. “It was good seeing you.”

Hawkins studied Logan, perplexed. “Dash it all, I wish you’d change your mind. Give me a ring if you do. I just had a telephone put in, and nobody ever calls me!”

The gentleman left, taking his warmth and good cheer with him. Logan sighed as he re-racked the balls. Mrs. Lyman entered the room.

“Excuse me, sir, but luncheon is served.”

“I’m not hungry, Mrs. Lyman.”

To his surprise, the housekeeper remained where she was.

“Was there something else?” he asked.

“I spoke out of turn yesterday.”

His eyebrows lifted. “About what?”

“Miss Roring. Her relatives are respectable gentlefolk.”

“Yes, they are.”

“I shouldn’t have called her a trollop.”

“No, you shouldn’t have done.”

“I’m sorry, and I thought you ought to know.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lyman.” He paused. “Have Tom saddle up Tuxano for me, please. I’m going to ride over to the hunting cottage for a few days.”

“That’s what you said last time and you were gone for months.”

“That will be all, Mrs. Lyman.”

The housekeeper refused to budge. “Why don’t you go to town with Mr. Hawkins? He’s a proper gentleman and always good company.”

“You overheard our conversation?”

“There’s not much I don’t hear in this house.” She frowned, arms akimbo. “I
won’t
let you hide away another three months!”

Logan was taken aback. “Mrs. Lyman, have you been drinking?”

“For the few hours Miss Roring was here, you seemed your normal self.”

Logan shrugged as he rolled the cue ball back and forth with his fingers. “That’s beside the point.”

“You need the society of young people. Go to town, visit your gentleman’s clubs, and pay a few calls,” Mrs. Lyman said. “Invitations will begin to arrive.”

“Why ever would I want to do that?”

“Because if you don’t, you’ll have no peace from me!”

Logan peered at Mrs. Lyman. “You are quite determined?”

“No peace at all.”

Her presumptuousness would ordinarily have annoyed Logan, but instead he was unaccountably amused. A crooked grin crept onto his face.

“All right. Send some of the staff on ahead to prepare my townhouse, and direct Ian to pack my trunks. I’ll call Hawkins.”

Aunt Letty’s townhouse was a whirlwind of activity. Milliners, seamstresses, and couturiers came and went in a flurry of tape measures, swatches of fabric, ribbons, trims, and finishings. Jillian quickly realized London fashion was so
au courant
her old wardrobe would have not been up to the task in any case. Under Aunt Letty’s eagle-eyed supervision, she was fitted for dozens of walking dresses, riding costumes, afternoon dresses, tea gowns, evening gowns, dinner gowns, and ball gowns, in such fabrics as silk, satin, moiré, velvet, chiffon, peau de soie, and cashmere. As it was spring, Aunt Letty also ordered a variety of lightweight capes, mantles, coatlets, and Victorines with high fluted collars for nighttime. Undergarments, such as petticoats, chemises, and knickers were given equal attention. Jillian was relieved to find tight laces were no longer required, and she delighted in the newer skeleton corsets trimmed in pretty ribbons and lace.

“But, Aunt, what of hats? We’ve not purchased nearly enough to go with all my new clothes,” Jillian said.

“That’s on purpose. Shopping at most fashionable milliners on Bond and Regent Streets will allow you to mix with titled and powerful ladies. We have yet to shop for accessories or jewelry, either.”

“I had not thought of that.”

“Which is why you have me to guide you. Trust me, my dear, you have many natural gifts in your favor. Your feet are far too large, but there is less emphasis on a small foot now than there used to be. Just keep them tucked away whenever you can. On the positive side, your face is lovely and your hair is the most remarkable color. No bust improvers will be necessary for you, or padding for your hips. Your face and figure will be much admired, but you must pretend not to notice.”

“’Tis a blessing Uncle William isn’t here. With all this talk of clothes, I’m afraid he would have taken to his bed with a painful rash!”

Aunt Letty laughed. “When he receives the bills, he will.”

“Do you suppose we could tour London? I’d dearly love to see the palace again and—”

“None of your gowns are ready yet! You cannot leave the house until you look absolutely perfect.”

“But—”

“Of this much you can be sure; London society talk amongst themselves, and not all of the conversation is laced with Christian charity. As soon as you have a suitable afternoon dress delivered, we shall call on my dear friend, Lady Fanny Adams. She knows simply everyone.”

In the meantime, Aunt Letty’s extensive collection of penny dreadfuls provided Jillian with a pleasant diversion, as did the upright piano in the parlor. Jillian practiced melancholy sonatas until Aunt Letty finally put her foot down.

“Dearest, there’s some brand new sheet music in the bench from
The Pirates of Penzance
and
The Mikado.
Play something cheerful for a while so the cook doesn’t curdle the soup.”

Lacking any bosom friends to talk to, Jillian also began a diary. As she sat in the parlor, she poured out in its pages her misadventure with Sam Netherby, her interactions with Mr. Logan at Idunn Court, and her subsequent journey by train to town:

I must conclude this entry with a confession, Dear Diary. Mr. Logan stirs within me feelings I cannot begin to comprehend. I must seek another upon whom to attach my affections, however, lest I fall prey to the same melancholy that afflicts Mr. Logan at the perfidy of Miss Sophia Watkins.

Betsy flounced over to the bed and sat down. A cloud of dust set her coughing. The sound of a baby crying in the next room made her want to plug her ears. The smells seeping through the floorboards were worse. Rather than sit in the rickety chair next to the bed, George chose to sit on Betsy’s trunk instead. Oblivious, Sam strode toward the window and looked outside.