Piercing thro' disguises

[the_comfortable_courtesan]

I am like to apprehend that someone, most like Milord, has put it to the Marquess of O- that 'twould be quite entire inadvizable to make suit to the exquisite Lady B-, for there are gentlemen quite ready to defend her reputation, has the aspirant not already encounter’d Hector’s pugilistick art; moreover, Nemesis overtook several fellows that advanc’d undesir’d suits.

Not that I suppose he has any great inclination towards me, but there have been fellows that suppose that on account of my former profession I will be exceeding pliant to offers of solace in my widowhood.

So he behaves with quite extreme propriety when first we foregather at O- House, which is a fine mansion at an excellent address. 'Tis indeed clear that has been somewhat neglect’d, but is by no means in the dreadfull condition of B- House.

The Marquess looks around a little helpless. 'Tis large, he says, I had forgot how large.

A mouse runs across the floor. Hector remarks that he doubts our kittens are yet of an age to be expert mousers, but he wonders whether young Master Josh’s ferrets might be given a run around the place.

Why, says I, I apprehend that Mr F- has a great knowledge of ferrets from his younger days, we might go ask him.

We go through the various rooms, and indeed, I do not think there will need a great deal of work done. A really thorough cleaning, of course, and some places where fresh paint is entire desirable. The furniture is perchance a little old-fashion’d and not the latest crack but I cannot suppose that it would not serve quite admirably, for there are some very fine pieces. Needs only be well-polisht up, and perchance some chairs and sophas recover’d.

There is an excellent library, where I do not linger, tho’ 'tis a struggle against temptation.

We go into the very fine reception room, and I feel a little unease, I know not why.

I look down at the carpet and say that I fear the moth has been at it, perchance it could be repair’d is the damage not too severe, and move around still feeling uncomfortable.

Sure, says the Marquess, the wallpaper may be somewhat out of style, but 'tis very fine. I remember looking at it as a child, and making up tales about the figures.

I look at it more closely and recognize the source of my unease. 'Tis a chinoiserie paper not exact the same as that in B- House, but so exceeding similar that I feel my legs turn weak under me, and go sit down rather precipitate on a chair, raising a little cloud of dust.

Lady B-! are you unwell?

A moment’s qualmishness, says I, for I do not wish to tell him about that dreadfull lunatick creeping thing.

I am entire recover’d by going into other rooms, inspecting the attics for bats &C. We also go to into the kitchens, where 'twould be most desirable to put in a fine modern range.

The Marquess says rather hopeless by the time we reach the end of our tour of inspection that he would serve us some refreshment, but there is still the matter of servants to be undertaken.

Why, says I, let us return to my house and take a little tea and convoke further.

When we reach my house and go into my pretty parlour I say, or of course there is brandy or port should you prefer that? Tea would be entire excellent, says he.

We take out our little memorandum books and go compare the points we have not’d.

I daresay, he says, that 'twill take some time to put all in order.

(He does not speak as a man would that is eager to have a place set in good order ready for a wife; but as one who perceives that some matter may be happyly deferr’d for some while upon plausible excuse.)

Most like, says I, especial as this is a time of year when a deal of Society are having matters put in order in their houses to be ready for the Season.

He sighs, and says he would desire to be better acquaint’d with Society and its ways before he sets up house and is oblig’d to keep state.

The way, says I, to find out about Society is to go about in it a while.

I go think a little. Have you receiv’d an invitation to the Contessa di S-'s ridotto?

He frowns and says yes, he collects that he has receiv’d a card, but sure there are a deal of the things and he knows not how to decide upon which are the ones he should pay attention to.

If you collect who has left you cards, says I, I can make some endeavour upon telling you what you should do.

As he tells me those that he can remember, I note that there have been a deal of persons leave their cards for him that are encroaching nuisances that hope to advance their own interest by an association with him. But there are also those that are entirely in good sets, as well as cards of those that I take to be cognoscenti.

I advize him upon the ones in which he should take an interest, does he not already know them by way of the Royal Society &C. He makes notes in his little memorandum book.

And, says I, 'twill be much to your advantage to go to the ridotto -

He frowns a little.

- you may observe a deal of Society there that thinks it may conduct itself with a freedom it would not normally allow, because 'tis in masquerade and thus not recognizable; but indeed, 'tis not so.

Lady B-, he says, you would really make an excellent spy.

La, says I, a pretty feather-wit such as I? (For indeed, my friends have desir’d me to be mistress of intelligence once more to sound out whether the Marquess would be a genuine adherent to our coterie.)

He laughs and says, he has heard that those that think thus of Lady B- are pursu’d by angry swans. But if I go to the ridotto, will you be so good as to whisper in my ear who everyone is?

Sure I will, says I: for my bringing-up in the theatre made me very adept at piercing thro’ disguises. 'Twas a most entirely usefull skill in my former profession.

He looks at me awhile and says, sure he has been much out of the country and knows not how matters go on here these days: but are ladies that have been in your condition not meant to express penitence, and mayhap tell some sad tale of seduction by some rogue to excuse their fall? do they not endeavour entirely to conceal that part of their history?

O, poo, says I, I was sufficiently renown’d that 'twould be quite entire futile to endeavour to conceal the matter.

I daresay: but I saw you shudder at the wallpaper in the grand reception room, and wonder’d did it raise unhappy memories.

That is very discerning of you, says I. I did indeed have a most disagreeable experience in a room thus decorat’d, but 'twas naught to do with my former profession. Do you have such powers of observation I confide you will do very well in Society.

'Tis entire worrying to me that as I make further acquaintance of the Marquess he seems an excellent agreeable fellow even is he one that is a stranger to the common usage of Society: but that there is that matter of the proferr’d marriage. I cannot fathom it out.

In the matter of disguise, I confide that none that do not look most exceeding close will recognize the lovely Lady B- when next forenoon I go to convoke with Dolly Mutton dresst in such a fashion that all must suppose me an Evangelickal lady that goes about with tracts to save souls.

I have with me a nice little sum for the aid of her enterprize from the profits of my own late endeavours and from Miss S-'s poetry.

As I walk thro’ the byways of Covent Garden, that at this time of day are exceeding quiet, I perceive a fellow coming the other way that looks somewhat familiar. Is clad as some moderately prosperous fellow of the middling sort: but 'tis, I realize with a deal of shock, the Earl of N-. I do not give any sign of recognition, and he barely glances as me as we pass.

Well! thinks I, sure one supposes that his wife being such an invalid he may seek consolation elsewhere, and at least he does so with some discretion, but indeed I would have thought he had tastes above Covent Garden misses.

I come to Dolly Mutton’s, and am admitt’d to her private parlour. Pussy comes show me great favour by sitting in my lap, and we drink coffee as I hand over the money. There are a deal of matters for which cash in hand is requir’d.

I stroke Pussy and remark to Dolly that on my way I encounter’d a fellow, lookt somewhat familiar – I describe him.

Oh, she says, that must be Mr Perkins – or that is the name that he gives out, which may not be the one he goes under elsewhere – has set up Molly Binns in a tidy little establishment these several years. She supposes that he must be a nurseryman or some such in a good way of business – brings her quite the finest flowers when he comes visit.

O, says I, I thought 'twas someone quite entire different.

(I go consider to myself that maintaining a doxy in Covent Garden rather than some finer address is not merely admirable discreet, must also be a deal more oeconomickal. Tho’ at least he brings her the fine flowers that he does not bother to provide his poor Countess.)

Comments

[rymenhild]

Mr Perkins! Who lets his mistress think he is a common nursery man, but at least brings her flowers! What a horrible man he is!

The Marquess of O-, on the other hand, seems both kind and exceedingly perceptive. I wonder what Mr Perkins, I mean the Earl, told him about Lady Anna.

[nenya_kanadka]

Yeah this guy seems like the opposite of Mr F, who when presented with a situation where he couldn't sleep with his wife because of her health, went about looking for a mistress in an honest and kindly fashion. And did not skimp on his family while doing so! I dislike this guy more and more. Indeed Lady N- deserves far better. Hatpin time indeed. >.<

O- on the other hand seems like someone who might turn out less frightening than Lady Anna worries. Whichever way that ends up I hope she gets some choice and is happy.

[loligo]

I'm going to hold onto a more positive view of the Earl until he does something really awful. I'm imagining that he has become genuinely fond of Molly Binns but can't see how being honest with her would do either of them any good, since there will never be any way to bridge the gap between them. So he awkwardly tries to make things less awkward by continuing his ruse, and shows his affection the only indirect way that he can think of, with wonderful flowers.

It's possible he cares about his wife, too, he just isn't the type of person who sees things from someone else's point of view without a lot of prodding.

Tl;dr I think of him as awkward and oblivious, but not awful.

[eeyorerin]

I think Lord N-'s hatpin may have just arrived.

[kore]

Poor Mme C, she clearly has some form of PTSD from that awful experience, even though she is doing pretty well at handling it. The Marquess is indeed perceptive.

[nenya_kanadka]

HATPINS FOR LORD N!

(I keep mixing up the D-'s and the N-'s because they were introduced at the same time. The N's are "Mr Perkins", the invalid lady, the girls wearing last season's fashions that Miss A is going do help with cosplay, and the puppy guy with crushes on C and Sandy, I think? And the D's are the strict dude and his wife and SIL, who is the poet. I think. :D)

[annotated_em]

Well, this ought to turn out interesting for the Earl of N, in the proverbial sense of the word.

I find that I am quite liking the Marquess of O.

[nineveh_uk]

Me too re. the Marquess of O. I hope that the matter of the marriage is more to his favour than we might have thought (he certainly seems in no hurry to rush into it) rather than his having a ginormous blind spot there.

[kathmandu]

I am wondering if there's any possibility that Lady Anna has been ordered to prepare for marriage without the topic having even been opened to the Marquess of O.

[nineveh_uk]

That sounds plausible.

[castiron]

Me too, which has me half expecting a shocking revelation or a huge betrayal.