“The market?” Jenny exclaimed. “What a splendid idea. I was wondering what to do with myself this morning. Mother wanted me to scrape out the cistern, but that didn’t sound like much fun. Let me go ask if Mother needs anything from the market and I’ll be right with you.” Jenny gestured. “Come in, don’t just stand outside. I won’t be but a minute.”

Jenny’s house was bright and airy. Most of the windows were open and a light breeze lifted the sheer curtains like ladies waving handkerchiefs at a departing vessel.

A fine specimen of an Englishman lounged, stretched out on the floor of the sitting room reading a book. He looked up and saw Lydia.

“You must be the new lass from next door. I’m Graham, one of Jenny’s hopeless brothers.” He laughed.

“I’m Lydia Fernside.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Graham said. It looked like he was about to stand up to greet her.”

“No. Don’t get up. Continue your reading. What are you reading?”

“The Trials of Abatha. It’s a rousing lot of trollop, but it is fun.”

“Oh, do you read a lot?”

“Scabs. I’m off to university next term and I am catching up on all the trash I can before I have to read the serious stuff.”

Lydia laughed. “Might I borrow a book now and then? My aunt has nothing but religious tracts. Not something I care to read.”

“Oh, yes. Everyone here reads like crazy and we have a whole library of all sorts of various books you might enjoy. Browse and borrow whenever you like.”

“Thank you. That would be delightful.”

“So, you have met the infamous Graham—about as useful as a leaky umbrella,” Jenny said, laughing.

“He seems decent enough to me. He offered to lend me books. How bad can he be?”

“See, sister. I have at least one admirer.” Graham stuck his tongue out at her.

Jenny took hold of Lydia’s arm and directed her out the front door. “See what I mean. My brothers are louts.”

“He seemed quite nice to me.”

“Jenney began to skip and chanted, “To market, to market to buy a fat pig.”

Lydia had to run to catch up.

The market was set up at one end of the town square. There were dozens of stalls, mostly with canvas covers to keep out the summer sun. The stall keepers were shouting out their wares and it made for a merry noise, Lydia thought.

“What are you looking for?” Jenny asked. Lydia showed her the list. “Oh, yes. I know just the vendors for all of this.”

She led Lydia from stall to stall and soon the list was complete, except for the provisions needed from the grocers that were not available from the outdoor market.

“Do you know where your aunt has her account?” Lydia asked.

“She didn’t say. I just assumed there was but one grocer.”

“It is probably Donald and Sons. They are considered the best. Let us go and enquire.”

Lydia followed Jenny into a shop on High Street. It was busy with activity. There were barrels of flour, grains, and meal. There were bins of spices, dried beans, peas, and lentils. Along one wall were cupboards with notions, rolls of fabric, hats, and ladies garments.

Lydia quickly purchased the remaining items on the list and they left the store.

As they leisurely headed back toward home Lydia was longing to tell Jenny about how unhappy she was with the first meeting with her aunt, but felt it would be disloyal to tattle and gossip so she held her tongue.

However, Jenny asked, “How was it to see your aunt again?”

Lydia turned to look at Jenny who had a wry expression.

“You know, I had never met her until yesterday. She and my mother corresponded over the years, but we never actually met face to face until yesterday.”

“And?”

“Oh, Jenny, I really cannot say,” Lydia said, turning her face away.

“Cannot or will not?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Because I sense a sadness in you that was not there yesterday.”

Lydia lowered her head. “Yes, I am afraid that is true.”

“I know your aunt well, you must remember.”

“And has she always been so…”

“Mean? Sour? Pained?” Jenny added.

“Just so.”

“I don’t remember her always being like that,” Jenny said. “But after her husband passed and she needed to work I began to see her change.”

“That was my thought as well. Did you have a lot of interaction with her?”

“Not a great deal. But she was always asking me to do little errands for her. Mind you, she always paid me a little, but I was happy to help, as she was elderly and all alone.”

“And now I am to take your place,” Lydia said, adding a small chuckle.

“I also think the Duchess Patience may be difficult to work for. I understand she is very demanding and tends toward intolerance of anything or anyone that is not of the nobility.”

“Do you know the family? Have you met the Duke?” Lydia asked.

“Heavens, no. We are not the sort of people they would deign to converse with. But I have seen the Duke in the village from time to time. He is occasionally seen at the market, as he has a passion for plants, and scours the stalls looking for something new to grow.”

“Is he full of himself like his mother?”

“He doesn’t seem to be.” Jenny said, and then leaned in toward Lydia and almost whispered, adding, with a little giggle, “But he is very handsome, tall, and strong. It is said he is an expert swordsman and loves to race horses. He has thick, unruly dark hair, and somewhat brooding eyes. He dresses like a country gentleman, but always looks a bit disheveled.”

“And he is not married?” Lydia asked.

“No. But many of the local beauties have their eyes on him. However, most are not of his class and would not survive scrutiny from his mother.”

“Poor man. How old is he?”

“Must be in his late twenties.”

“And not married? His mother must be having a fit,” Lydia joked.

They had arrived back at the cottage.

“Thank you for accompanying me to the market,” Lydia said.

“No, that was fun. Any time you want company, if I am free, I will be happy to accompany you. And if you do not know where some place is, just ask me.”

“I must go inside now. Aunt Lavinia has given me some chores to do today.” She started to leave but then turned back to Jenny. “Oh, may I come by sometime this afternoon to borrow a book?”

“Of course. The door is always open. Just come on inside—we are a very informal family of ruffians.”

* * *

A few days passed, and Lydia began to adjust to her new home. Once her new routine was established and accepted, her aunt became less hostile. She even seemed to appreciate the many tasks Lydia was performing for her. Lydia’s presence seemed to relieve the pressure on Lavinia. However, the long and frequent prayer sessions were still a burden for Lydia.

Late one morning, while Lydia was polishing the set of silver, there was a knock at the front door. Lydia went to answer.

“Good morning,” a young man in livery greeted.

“And to you, sir.”

“Are you Miss Lydia Fernside?”

“I am.”

“I have a letter for you.” He handed Lydia an envelope. “I have been asked to wait for your reply.”

“Thank you. I shall just be a moment,” she said.

He stood back, allowing her to shut the door.

Lydia examined the letter, opened it, and was delighted to see it was from Doctor Winston.

Lydia was delighted and quickly penned an affirmative reply to the Doctor. She went to the front door.

“Young man, this is my response to the Doctor’s letter. If you would please deliver it to him, I would be most obliged.”

“Of course, Miss.”

The man took the letter and departed.

Lydia was almost giddy with excitement. Her first thought was what to wear. All of her clothes were mostly everyday clothes. She’d not thought to bring any fine clothes, as she didn’t expect to be out in society in her new position.

She thought she must consult with Jenny, and she ran next door, bursting through into the sitting room.

“Oh, hello,” an older woman greeted cheerily. “You must be Lydia. Are you looking for Jenny?”

“Oh, yes, I am. Are you her mother?”

“I certainly am. And what a pleasure it is to meet you. Jenny has not stopped talking about you. You will find her in the kitchen. She is struggling with a chicken at the moment, I believe.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lovell. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too, dear.”

Lydia found the kitchen and Jenny in the middle of trussing a large capon.

“Oh, Lydia. Thank heavens. Do you know anything about these beasts? I seem to be all thumbs today.”

“I’ve not had a lot of experience with cooking. As the daughters of the local vicar, we were taught to leave such matters to the domestics. But maybe we could figure this out together.”

When they had finally managed to truss the bird, it looked more like a hanging than a meal. Both Jenny and Lydia stood back to admire their work. In both instances their hair was disheveled and they looked more like skivvies than young ladies.

Jenny turned to Lydia and smiled.

“Did you come to see me about something special?” she asked.

Lydia laughed, having completely forgotten her mission. “Oh, yes. I have been invited to have tea tomorrow with my friend Doctor Winston and the Duke and Duchess. And I have no idea what to wear. Can you help me?”

“I believe that might be possible. Shall we go see what you have?”

“Oh, no, nothing suitable at all. I had no idea there would be any social activity in my new position. All I have is plain day dresses.”

“I see.” Jenny stood back and took a look at Lydia. “I believe we are about the same size. Let us go raid my armoire and see what we can find that might be suitable to meet a Duke—and especially a handsome one.”

Laughing, they fled the kitchen and flew up the stairs to Jenny’s room.

“Not this… not this… no, that certainly will not do…” Jenny was examining one dress after another. Then she found one she liked and pulled it out and held it up for Lydia to examine. “You like this one?”

Oh, my. That is splendid. But might it not be a little too dressy. After all, it’s only tea, not a ball.”

“Yes, quite right.” Jenny put the dress back and reached for another.

“Ah, just the one.” She held it up to show Lydia. It was simple but very pretty. It was several shades of blue—elegant but not ostentatious—perfect for the afternoon. “Try it on.”

It fit perfectly, and as Lydia studied herself in the full length mirror, Jenny came over and put a simple but elegant necklace with turquoise and sapphire stones around her neck. Lydia turned and looked at Jenny.

“What do you think? Does it work? Is it too much?”

“Just perfect. I think you will please the Duchess, overwhelm the Doctor, and certainly catch the eye of the Duke.”