Growing Good (2)

[the_comfortable_courtesan]

Desiring Lady Bexbury's advice (2)

The thought of Janey led by association to her husband Geoffrey, and that he was still caught up in the toils of Lord Fendersham’s affairs – his case against Miles O’Neill for misappropriating and selling the heirloom ring Fendersham had presented to his betrothed, Lady Wauderkell, afore she very precipitate eloped with O’Neill, might have come to a halt when the interesting question of whether O’Neill had bigamously married the lady came into court, and thus, might she be, if no true wife, put on the stand to give evidence. But Fendersham’s wounded heart had been moved to pity by the account of Lady W walking distracted in the streets clutching a bloody knife and crying I have slain the deceiver! – that in fact still lingered in life. Had retained Geoff, that was so famed for his speeches in defence of women, and also was feeing Matt Johnson’s investigation agency to enquire further into the matter.

No expense spared! At least it seemed that there would be no matter of dispatching an agent to Chicago to go fetch Mrs O’Neill, the former Mary-Catherine O’Malley, prospering with a nice little business of haberdashery – was some matter of a daguerreotype, that all former acquaintance considered an entire speaking likeness – and Matt was confident of obtaining affidavits from very reputable citizens concerning the lady’s length of residence in the United States, her respectable character &C&C.

Meanwhile, Clorinda understood – betwixt her antient friendship with dear Matt himself, and her discovery of renewed springtime love with one of his finest agents, Leda Hacker, once Bet Bloggs of Seven Dials, knew a deal of what went forth in the agency! – that the hunt was on for the surgeon or mayhap quack that had, or so was reported, been sent for to treat the sore wounded O’Neill. That certainly did a deal of lying groaning on what he gave out as a bed of pain.

Clorinda snorted. Miles O’Neill, that many years ago had endeavoured a clumsy abduction of the wealthy heiress Agnes Simpson, that had been no Clarissa Harlowe to his Lovelace, but a sensible young woman that had rescued herself. Had no doubt but that there were a deal of ladies to whom he had made up over the years with a view to their property that were very like saying over the tea-cups to their friends, sure, is the poor woman condemned, I fancy one could get up a petition to the Queen for mercy! 'Twas ridding the realm of a great nuisance!

But mayhap would not come to that.

Entering her dressing-room, she was quite immediate scolded by Sophy for frowning in that way, most deleterious to her complexion, she would have lines –

La, I fancy I have lines already, 'tis in the way of nature.

Sophy sniffed quite in Docket’s sceptical manner as she steered Clorinda into the chair before the looking-glass and began to take down and brush out her hair.

Dear Sophy. That had been such a timid little black girl when she first came be Docket’s assistant, terrified to set a foot wrong – all eyes because one might see food had been a little sparse –

And here she was, now plump as nature had ever intended her to be, still pretty, Sam Jupp’s doated-upon wife and mother of three loving daughters. And one that was determined to maintain the traditions that she had been trained in by Docket!

I will, she told Sophy, go take lunch with Belinda, so you need not dress me up in style – I will come back to be adorned in suitable fashion to go discourse concerning optical dispensaries this afternoon – and – she could not help the smile that broke out – have a quiet e’en at home –

Sophy quite smirked at the smiling reflection and said, in company with Miss Hacker?

You quite find me out! She has an evening at leisure for once – for, besides all the demands of the various investigations the agency had upon hand, Leda had a standing commission to go personate that fine St James doxy, Babsie Bolton, about Dumaine’s gaming-club, to observe for any sharping play.

Sophy smiled doating and said, feared she went overdo.

Clorinda descended to the basement apartments that had been done out suitable for t’other Lady Bexbury, that had been discovered no such thing when her horrid husband – the lunatic bigamist that she had fled many years afore his elevation, and denounced at the altar when he attempted to wed an heiress – was revealed not the true heir to the title. La, had said Belinda, that had been living in comfortable platonick union with Captain Penkarding raising race-horses and hunters, what care I for that tinsel show of rank, especial when I think what I owed it to, that nasty sneaking fellow that was an entire disgrace to his cloth. She was somewhat lame – kick from a vicious mare – and the basement residence enabled her to walk straight into the stable-yard and the mews, where she was a valued adviser at Sam Jupp’s livery stables.

At present she had with her Vicky, Sam and Sophy’s youngest daughter, that seemed in some agitation.

Clorinda greeted 'em both, and enquired what was the ado.

Mayhap, said Belinda, you can advize – I never had aught in the way of education, certainly not the kind that young women can aspire to these days –

La, said Clorinda, had little enough myself beyond what I picked up backstage in my own childhood –

They both looked at her – Lady Bexbury might be able to present the entire Society featherwit but was known among her friends as one that had a shrewd understanding of humanity, had read widely, and had writ some several novels and plays that were by no means despised by the critics. Was the friend of men and women of letters and learning, and kept as a tame philosopher about the house her dearest friend, Sandy, Alexander MacDonald MA, since the demise of his employer and lover, Gervase Reveley, Lord Raxdell.

Indeed you might know, said Vicky, or mayhap 'tis somewhat Mr MacDonald might advize upon –

Clorinda raised her eyebrows, as Euphemia came in, followed by Polly, bringing their luncheon.

Once this had been laid out on the table, and they had settled down and helped themselves, Vicky explained her predicament.

Had had an ardent desire to attend the Ladies’ College in Bloomsbury and pursue her education there – had been somewhat astonishing to her family and acquaintance, wild Vicky that had used to sigh to be a rider at Astley’s circus, and o, why could girls not become jockeys? that after a few terms at the Miss Barnards’ School in Hertfordshire, had become quite an entire blue-stocking, with, of all things, a passion for the classics.

Well, Sophy had said, one can have no objection – there is Mrs Merrett goes study there and has quite the salon of young ladies about her one understands? –

Vicky let out a huge sigh. Alas, she said, a deal of the other young ladies have not had anything like the fine education I had at the Miss Barnards’, sure I was exceeding fortunate – extra tuition in Latin and Greek &C,  but they, poor things, have been educated at home, mayhap with a governess, did they go to school perchance was one of those places that is more about deportment and accomplishments than cultivating the mind –

So it comes about that they are not as well-prepared as might be –

And I find that I am considerable – remarkable – advanced in my classical studies beyond the common lot –

Ah, said Clorinda, that had lately been hearkening to Lady Theodora Saxorby waxing ecstatic about obtaining really good training for her voice from Miss McKeown, and taking music seriously – one quite sees that you would desire something more suited to your stage of learning.

Mayhap, said Vicky, I can do somewhat by myself – but the matter is, that am I not going to the College, I cannot sit about like some idle lady, and I fancy Pa has a notion I could go help out Uncle Jackie at the Kensington stables.

Had been a time, Clorinda fancied, when that would have been entirely to Vicky’s taste!

One of darling Leda’s skills was picking locks – had been brought up as a child by the master-burglar Laffen that had conveyed to her a deal of the arts of crime! – and Leda would tell of the moment when one would feel the lock give.

Clorinda put down her knife and fork, and said that she had only very lately encountered a lady in need of somebody to put a library in order – sort the books onto shelves, compile a catalogue – fill in any gaps –

O! cried Vicky. What a prime thing – could ask cousin Hannah for advice was there any problems –

For Hannah Roberts, lady of the pen, under the style Bibliophilia was exceeding noted for her accounts in The Speculum of libraries in country houses &C!

I will go, said Clorinda, advance your interest in the matter – consider further over the matter of tutoring in the classics –

Vicky, with a hopeful expression, murmured that mayhap Mr MacDonald – ?

Mayhap not, thought Clorinda, that fancied that dear Sandy was already having trouble enough with the feelings stirred in the bosoms of his students at the godless institution in Gower Street, the Ladies College, and now the Mechanics Institute in Chancery Lane. 'Twas an old story! But that stirred a recollection she could not quite pursue to its end –

La, I must be off about optical dispensaries! Dumpling Dora is still sadly distracted at present – Mrs Dalrymple sends that she is confined indoors with a cold –

So that was an afternoon with perchance more brangling than she would have liked – Theodora, Countess of Pockinford, looking so woebegone these days that she could no longer rule a ladies’ committee with the trembling of her lip – but all eventually dispatched satisfactorily, including Aggie – Lady Agatha Lucas’ – notion of visiting oculists in parts where one might not yet be able to establish a dispensary.

'Twas very agreeable to return home and find Hector smiling at the door, saying that Miss Hacker was already arrived, and was in the parlour, a-gossiping with Euphemia he dared say.

Hardly a-gossiping, Clorinda suspected, for the Johnson agency had been commissioned into looking into the characters of the individuals who might take on the task of managing the fine fruit-farm Roberts and Wilson, manufacturers of superior jams and pickles, had lately acquired.

She found this was so, and Leda handing over reports in Ginevra Frinton’s exquisite handwriting, and making various comments –

Fie, cried Euphemia, I will be away and study upon these and take 'em over to Seraphine afore the Raxdell household goes to Ammerpark – will send up fresh tea –

Clorinda smiled at her. and went to plump down upon the sopha next to Leda.

Leda grinned. Lady Bexbury goes bustle, I see! Now 'tis time for you to take things easy.

Comments

[azurelunatic]

What a good thing, to be home with one's beloved after a long day's meddling.

This is so well-timed; my partner is abed with the recent contagion and while things are looking promising, there's still a ways to go and a distraction ever comes welcome.

[cesy]

Excellent!

[violsva]

It's wonderful seeing Clorinda's community-building over decades.