Chapter Five – Lady Adelaide
“Beth! Wake up!”
Pressing her eyes shut, Beth turned away from the loud voice as well as the insistent shake on her shoulder. Her body ached, and her senses were dulled with fatigue.
“I can’t believe you fell asleep,” Sally’s shrill voice exclaimed, echoing through the vaulted room.
Vaulted room?
Instantly, Beth’s eyes snapped open, and her heartbeat quickened dangerously as she found herself stretched out on the settee in the downstairs drawing room.
Jumping to her feet, she began to sway and reached out her arms to Sally, who grasped them and pulled her back down into a sitting position. “What happened?” Beth mumbled, trying to sort through the chaos in her head.
“I don’t know,” Sally answered, her voice dropped to a whisper as she glanced over her shoulder at the open door. “When I walked in, you were sleeping. Are you all right?”
Nodding her head, Beth wondered if it was true. These past few days had passed in a blur. She couldn’t even remember what day of the week it was.
“Good.” Reaching for Beth’s arms, Sally pulled her up. “There’s no time to lose. We’re wanted upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“Lady Adelaide’s dresses were delivered this morning,” Sally explained as she guided Beth toward the door and then the back stairs, slowly removing her steadying hands as Beth proved to be able to keep on her feet without assistance. “The night of the ball is approaching fast, and with most of the staff out with the flu, preparations are falling behind. Unfortunately, the same holds true for the modiste. All her employees are afflicted. The Countess is relieved that madam herself is still well. However, that means we're required to help out.” Guiding Beth up the stairs and then down a long corridor, Sally glanced over her shoulder, a smirk on her face. Somehow that woman never seemed to lose her sense of humour! “You’re lucky Mrs. Hill is so busy. Had she been the one to find you sleeping in the middle of the day, you’d be out on the street no matter how understaffed we are.”
Frowning at the chuckle that escaped Sally’s lips, Beth took a deep breath. Then she smoothed down her uniform and tugged a few loose strands back up, trying her best to hide any evidence of her unplanned nap. As they approached the end of the corridor and voices bubbled up from inside the room, Beth felt a touch of excitement course through her veins. So far, she had only ever seen the family from a distance, and while she had to admit that the earl made her uneasy and she would rather not cross his path, the women of the family fascinated her.
How different would her life be if she had been born into such a family? She wondered, following Sally through the door and into the bedroom she straightened up every morning. However, at those times, it stood vacant, its inhabitant downstairs taking her breakfast with her parents.
Now, she found the large room flooded with the late afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, bathing the entire chamber in a warm glow. Mirrors stood everywhere, and a small pedestal had been placed in the centre of the room.
Donned in a breath-taking gown in pale violet, Lady Adelaide stood upon it, her emerald eyes aglow as she gazed at herself in the mirror. “Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, reverently running her fingers over the smooth fabric.
The countess stood beside her, her nose slightly scrunched up as her eyes travelled over her daughter. Then she glanced at the modiste, who was straightening out the skirt, pulling back the slight trail. “Would you not say it makes her look pale?” she wondered, her voice doubtful as though she was not expressing her own opinion but rather contemplating society’s reaction. “I do think a more vibrant colour would be preferable. Do you not agree, my dear?”
Lady Adelaide inhaled deeply, a touch of unease in her wide eyes. “Do you truly believe so?” she asked in a small voice. “I’d rather not draw too much attention.” She glanced at her mother than back into the mirror, her cheeks suddenly flushed. “Wouldn’t people wonder why I suddenly dress differently? Would they not stare at me?”
“Ah! There you are,” the modiste exclaimed as she caught sight of Sally and Beth. Then she gestured toward the long row of gowns still safely wrapped in their dress bags. “Unpack these and arrange them around the room, then see to the accessories in those boxes.” Then she turned back to her client.
Getting to work, Beth only occasionally glanced at Sally to assure herself that she was not making a mistake, but mostly kept her eyes fixed on the young woman in front of the mirror.
“My dear,” her mother began, an indulgent expression on her face as she met her daughter’s eyes in the mirror, “you’re an earl’s daughter and you’re of age now. It is your duty to your father, to this family as well as to yourself to make a favourable match. Therefore, it is of prime importance that we choose a dress that draws the attention of suitable gentlemen. Once they seek your company, it will be your manners as well as your sweet temper that will assure you the match. But first, my dear, you need to catch their eye.”
Lady Adelaide swallowed, clearly not comfortable with her mother’s assessment of the situation. “But it is a masked ball, Mother. No one will know it is me. Do you not think it would be all right if I wore a subtle colour on this occasion?”
The countess shook her head, and Lady Adelaide’s head sank almost imperceptibly. “The masks will be removed at midnight. It will be such a spectacle to reveal your identity after you’ve captured everyone’s attention.” A touch of excitement in her voice, the countess turned to the modiste, requesting a more suitable gown.
Lady Adelaide sighed. “I suppose so,” she mumbled, stepping down from the pedestal to change.
Trying not to stare, Beth watched as Lady Adelaide tried on gown after gown, only to have her mother criticise the colour, the neckline, the hem, the sleeve length as well as numerous other aspects. All the while, her daughter looked as miserable as the fifth act of a tragedy.
Surprised, Beth drew forth yet another gown from one of the dress bags and handed it to the modiste, wondering if the freedom she thought the upper class could claim as their own was truly as boundless as she’d thought it to be. Looking at the young woman, smoothing her hands over a sparkling dress in deep azure, Beth had her doubts. Was she truly not free to choose a dress? Or was she simply too timid to speak her mind?
As the modiste stepped away and turned to the myriad of small boxes sitting on the large bed, she gestured for Sally to help as she searched for yet another accessory. Lifting her head, Beth glanced at mother and daughter as they stood before the mirrors, one lost in thought as she eyed the azure gown with a hint of doubt in her gaze and the other nervously fidgeting with a loose strand that had tumbled down her temple three gowns ago.
“Mother,” Lady Adelaide whispered, casting a nervous glance at the modiste, who was still busy with her search. “Is it true−?”
“I like blue,” her mother mumbled, and Beth shook her head in compassion at the countess’s inattention as she seemed completely unaware that her daughter had just worked up the courage to speak to her about…something. “However, I do believe the colour needs to be more vibrant. Did we only choose pale colours when we went to the shop last week? I thought we had chosen a good variety, but now…” As her voice trailed off, she glanced around the room, her eyes shifting from one dress to the next.
Once again, Lady Adelaide drew in a deep breath and took a step closer to her mother.
Beth strained her ears, suddenly compelled to know what was on the young woman’s mind.
“Mother,” Lady Adelaide began again. This time her voice sounded a bit more insistent as though she knew that this was her last chance.
“Yes, dear.” Finally turning to her daughter, the countess met her eyes, a gentle smile on her face. “Is something wrong? Do you not like this dress?”
“I need to ask you something.”
A touch of surprise on her face, the countess grasped her daughter’s hands. “Certainly, my dear. What’s on your mind?” Then her eyes narrowed, and concern came to her features. “Are you not well? You look a bit pale.”
Lady Adelaide licked her lips, her hands closing around her mother’s more tightly. “I’ve heard a rumour.”
“A rumour?” the countess whispered, suspicion coming to her voice. “What in heaven’s name about?”
Lady Adelaide drew in a deep breath. “I’ve heard that Father intends to marry me to his childhood friend, Lord Arlton.” The young woman swallowed, open fear in her wide eyes. “Is that true?”
Her mother’s jaw clenched. “Nothing is set in stone…yet,” she said, her voice sounding strained, and her daughter’s shoulders tensed. “Do not worry, my dear. We still have a chance to find you a different husband, one who satisfies your father’s ambition as well as your own wishes.” Holding her mother’s gaze, Lady Adelaide nodded. “However, if you truly do not wish to marry Lord Arlton, I suggest you choose a dress that will draw the attention of a gentleman that is more to your liking and do your utmost to be noticed at the masked ball as well as thereafter, for I cannot say how soon your father will make up his mind.”
Lady Adelaide nodded her head vigorously.
“Good.” An encouraging smile on her face, the countess drew her daughter into her arms and gave her a quick hug. Then she met her eyes. “Be brave, my child,” she whispered, “and all shall be well.”
Again, Lady Adelaide nodded. However, she couldn’t quite keep the doubt from showing on her face, and Beth felt a pang of guilt for envying the young woman’s life only a short while ago. Being forced into marriage to an old man was truly not a desirable fate, and Beth hoped with all her heart that come the masked ball, Lady Adelaide would catch the attention of a young gentleman who would not only win her father’s approval but also his daughter’s heart.