that arm.” Isabella wobbled as she stepped from the
giant marble tub into a thick towel. She hadn’t realised how weak
she was, and she was glad there was going to be lunch. She’d feel
better afterwards.
Back in the
blue bedroom, Bea sat her down at the dressing table. Isabella
pulled a face. This really wasn’t her cup of tea and she imagined
her father’s face if her could see her now. He’d be laughing fit to
burst.
She eyed the
lacy petticoats on the bed.
“Bea, do you
know what’s happened to my old clothes?”
“Yes Miss,
they’ve gone to be laundered, though whether they’ll survive the
process remains to be seen. I think it was dirt keeping them
together.”
Isabella
sniffed.
“They weren’t
that bad.”
Bea’s face was
serious as she took a brush to Isabella’s hair.
“Yes Miss,
they were.”
“I’ll get them
back though will I?” Isabella fretted. She couldn’t see these silks
and satins keeping her very warm, back out in the market places of
London.
“Yes, Miss you
will.” Bea smiled. “Now sit still, so I can attend to this. You’ll
be glad you look nice when you meet the Duchess.”
“Why, is she
an ogre?”
Bea looked
taken aback.
“No, miss, but
she is royalty. `Ave you had lunch with royalty before?”
Isabella
thought of the times she’d delivered horses to the Maharajah of
Rajasthan with her father. They would be welcomed with every
courtesy and then given a leisurely lunch taken in the Indian way,
cross-legged on a luxurious carpet, around low golden tables. The
talk would be mostly of horses, but also of crops and the
Maharajah’s irrigation projects. His palace was open and cool, with
marble pillars and sparkling fountains in open courtyards. This
palace was all sumptuous fabrics and ticking hush, like a room of
people who stopped talking when one entered.
Isabella was
in a clear mind of which she preferred
“I suppose it
will be very formal.”
Bea
nodded.
“Well, just
mind your manners and you’ll be fine.”
Bea’s hands
were soothing as she pushed and pulled at Isabella’s tangle of hair
for what seemed like forever. After petticoats and stockings, Bea
slid a dress over her head with a whisper of expensive fabric, and
put some shoes on her feet. A few moments later Alix came back
through the door dressed in a pretty blue dress. She clasped her
hands to her face.
“Oh Isabella,
you look beautiful!”
No need for
her to sound quite so amazed, thought Isabella, but she was pleased
at Alix’s reactions.
“Can I see
myself now?” She asked.
“Of
course.”
Bea turned the
full-length mirror around and Isabella started in surprise. She
looked so grown-up! The red velvet dress gave warmth to her pale
skin and dark hair and made her look even taller. She had on
beautiful red velvet shoes with a golden buckle and Bea had done
her hair in a thick, smooth plait wound around with red silk
ribbon. Around her, now spotless neck hung a little necklace of
garnets. She opened the drawer containing her money belt, and then
struggled to tie it around her waist with one hand.
“Miss, don’t
do that. You’ll crease your dress, just leave it here… it’ll be
fine.” But Alix knelt down and fastened up the buckle Isabella
couldn’t reach and then pulled Isabella’s skirts down around
it.
“Isabella’s
worked hard for that. I can understand why she doesn’t want to let
it out of her sight.” Isabella nearly hugged her. “Come on, let’s
go and see if Mama can see you now. I’m sure she wants very much to
meet you.”
“I’m sure she
doesn’t, Alix. She’s probably just being polite.”
Alix looked at
her, her face hardening into lines Isabella hadn’t noticed
before.
“My mother
rarely does anything to just be polite.”
Maybe she
should change the subject.
“How am I
going to manage all that cutlery with one hand?”
Alix threw her
a wicked smile.
“It’s all
right, I’ve spoken to Jack, my footman. He’s going to cut up
giant marble tub into a thick towel. She hadn’t realised how weak
she was, and she was glad there was going to be lunch. She’d feel
better afterwards.
Back in the
blue bedroom, Bea sat her down at the dressing table. Isabella
pulled a face. This really wasn’t her cup of tea and she imagined
her father’s face if her could see her now. He’d be laughing fit to
burst.
She eyed the
lacy petticoats on the bed.
“Bea, do you
know what’s happened to my old clothes?”
“Yes Miss,
they’ve gone to be laundered, though whether they’ll survive the
process remains to be seen. I think it was dirt keeping them
together.”
Isabella
sniffed.
“They weren’t
that bad.”
Bea’s face was
serious as she took a brush to Isabella’s hair.
“Yes Miss,
they were.”
“I’ll get them
back though will I?” Isabella fretted. She couldn’t see these silks
and satins keeping her very warm, back out in the market places of
London.
“Yes, Miss you
will.” Bea smiled. “Now sit still, so I can attend to this. You’ll
be glad you look nice when you meet the Duchess.”
“Why, is she
an ogre?”
Bea looked
taken aback.
“No, miss, but
she is royalty. `Ave you had lunch with royalty before?”
Isabella
thought of the times she’d delivered horses to the Maharajah of
Rajasthan with her father. They would be welcomed with every
courtesy and then given a leisurely lunch taken in the Indian way,
cross-legged on a luxurious carpet, around low golden tables. The
talk would be mostly of horses, but also of crops and the
Maharajah’s irrigation projects. His palace was open and cool, with
marble pillars and sparkling fountains in open courtyards. This
palace was all sumptuous fabrics and ticking hush, like a room of
people who stopped talking when one entered.
Isabella was
in a clear mind of which she preferred
“I suppose it
will be very formal.”
Bea
nodded.
“Well, just
mind your manners and you’ll be fine.”
Bea’s hands
were soothing as she pushed and pulled at Isabella’s tangle of hair
for what seemed like forever. After petticoats and stockings, Bea
slid a dress over her head with a whisper of expensive fabric, and
put some shoes on her feet. A few moments later Alix came back
through the door dressed in a pretty blue dress. She clasped her
hands to her face.
“Oh Isabella,
you look beautiful!”
No need for
her to sound quite so amazed, thought Isabella, but she was pleased
at Alix’s reactions.
“Can I see
myself now?” She asked.
“Of
course.”
Bea turned the
full-length mirror around and Isabella started in surprise. She
looked so grown-up! The red velvet dress gave warmth to her pale
skin and dark hair and made her look even taller. She had on
beautiful red velvet shoes with a golden buckle and Bea had done
her hair in a thick, smooth plait wound around with red silk
ribbon. Around her, now spotless neck hung a little necklace of
garnets. She opened the drawer containing her money belt, and then
struggled to tie it around her waist with one hand.
“Miss, don’t
do that. You’ll crease your dress, just leave it here… it’ll be
fine.” But Alix knelt down and fastened up the buckle Isabella
couldn’t reach and then pulled Isabella’s skirts down around
it.
“Isabella’s
worked hard for that. I can understand why she doesn’t want to let
it out of her sight.” Isabella nearly hugged her. “Come on, let’s
go and see if Mama can see you now. I’m sure she wants very much to
meet you.”
“I’m sure she
doesn’t, Alix. She’s probably just being polite.”
Alix looked at
her, her face hardening into lines Isabella hadn’t noticed
before.
“My mother
rarely does anything to just be polite.”
Maybe she
should change the subject.
“How am I
going to manage all that cutlery with one hand?”
Alix threw her
a wicked smile.
“It’s all
right, I’ve spoken to Jack, my footman. He’s going to cut up
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