“I am sure Uncle Alfred will agree to sending for you. I will ask that of him on my arrival. I can’t bear the thought of us being apart.”
Whitney beamed up at me and her smile truly was remarkable. If I wanted to be beautiful, I’d wish for her enchanting smile. I, however, did not care how I looked. My face held only one purpose now and that was to find a wealthy husband so that my sister and my mother were taken care of properly. Uncle Alfred had agreed to step in and help them, but not like I wanted them helped. At least not Whitney. I had spent hours poring over medical journals in my father’s library and I knew that there were procedures that could help, if not completely mend, my sister’s limp. Then all those dreams she had could come true. Whitney’s face was one of fairy tales. She belonged in the beautiful gowns and to be dancing in the light that she believed glistened with whimsy.
If it was up to me to give her that, then I would do it. I would stand in the way of a bullet for my sister and at times, I felt this was one in the same. The bullet may possibly be more appealing. I did not feel as if I would ever fit the part I must now play. Turning back to my clothing, I hid my scowl at the idea of dealing with a man. I wasn’t fond of men. My father had shown me the cruelty of the opposite sex. I preferred to stay buried in my books or with my quill in hand, writing stories of women who were brave and resourceful.
“Oh, do you think he will? Truly?” Whitney asked as I folded another item and placed it in my open trunk. I had never packed my things before and I wasn’t sure this was the proper way, but I was working from memory from the few times I’d seen Anna, my former lady’s maid, do it for me. I did so miss Anna. She had been an excellent listener. I hoped she had found a good home that would treat her well. Mother assured me that she had made sure all the servants had found new places of work, but I was never sure how much to believe when it came to my mother. I’d often caught her in an untruth.
“Yes, I am sure of it. Uncle Alfred is a kind man from all I have been told. Mother respects him greatly.”
“Do you know anything of Aunt Harriet? Mother says she’s American.” Whitney said ‘American’ as if someone from America would be exotic. I smiled imagining a much different reality. I had read many books set in America and I knew she would not be exotic at all.
“Mother has only met her once and has told me little about her,” I replied honestly, but left out the distasteful look on Mother’s face when she told me that Uncle Alfred would be providing me with a proper English lady to aid in my introduction into society. It was clear that Mother did not approve of her brother’s choice in a wife. This, of course, meant I was likely to appreciate Aunt Harriet immensely.
“This room will be so lonely without you.” Whitney’s tone had changed. The melancholy pitch made my heart ache for her and for me. I didn’t want to leave her. She was the only human on earth I truly loved. I placed one of the few nicer day gowns I had left on the bed and turned to look back at her.
“I will miss you terribly and I promise as soon as I can bring you to London, I will. I am doing this for you too. Not just for Mother. I want you to have all the happiness in the world. I love you.” I didn’t say those three words enough and neither of our parents ever spoke them. From the moment Mother had brought Whitney to meet me all wrapped up in a soft yellow blanket, I had known what love truly was. Even at the tender age of seven years, I’d known I would do anything for her and protect her at all cost.
“Oh, don’t look so melancholy. I shouldn’t have said that. I just want you to know how dearly you will be missed.” Whitney forced a smile I could easily see she didn’t feel at all.
“I will be sad every day until the moment I see you again. I promise to write letters of all the beautiful people, the busy streets, the gossip I will most definitely hear,” I told her, trying to brighten her spirits.
“And the beautiful ball gowns! I need to know all about how they sparkle and shine. Do tell me every detail of Grosvenor Square,” she reminded me.
“Yes, most definitely. I will describe every small detail,” I promised, although I hoped I saw it the way she would. I couldn’t be sure I’d notice the glamour she dreamed of at all. My views on the marriage mart were sorely different than hers.
Chapter One
Miriam Bathurst
Without even a knock to prepare me, the door to the bedroom I’d been given at my uncle’s home on 18 Mayfair Street swung open and my aunt Harriet came barreling into the room, carrying a gown the color of the bluest sky and grinning so brightly her gums were on display above her teeth. She smiled that way often. I now prepared myself for those wide tooth grins, knowing that something was about to be announced in her loud, strange American accent. She always spoke as if I were in the other room. I wondered if it was because I struggled with her accent and many of the words she used. Unlike the Americans I had read of in books, my aunt was not from those areas. My uncle had made his fortune in the transport of whiskey, tobacco and cotton in New Orleans, Louisiana, and he had met my aunt there. It hadn’t taken me but a moment to realize not all Americans were alike. They were indeed very diverse.
“It’s here, honey, and it’s a beauty!” she proclaimed as she laid the gown out at the foot of my bed. “I said something fit for a princess and the dressmaker delivered,” she paused, “Oh what is her name? It’s French, that I do recall.” Aunt Harriet began to bite her lower lip, which was a habit of hers as was talking too loudly as if I had a hearing impediment.
“Marguerite Badeaux,” I offered, although I knew Aunt Harriet wouldn’t remember it the next time either. She often forgot names amongst other things. Just yesterday, she was looking for her slippers that she’d taken off, as she often did, and the entire time she had been carrying both of them in her left hand.
“Yes, yes, well, she has done just as I asked. Look at this will you.” She waved her hand at the gown on my bed and sighed as she placed both her hands on her chest dramatically. “You will be a vision. Even more stunning than your introduction to the queen and you were a true star then. The way she so obviously approved of you, but then who wouldn’t? You have the face of an angel. I didn’t think it possible another dress could outshine that one, but this one has and oh how thrilling. You’ll be married before we can even blink!”
The gown was everything Whitney would love. Aunt Harriet was correct in that it was remarkable. I dreaded tonight so fiercely that I couldn’t even appreciate its stunning qualities. I had been in London for almost two months, preparing for the season to truly begin. However, it had been more intriguing than I had expected, for Uncle Alfred had not provided me with a proper English chaperon like my mother had said he would do. Instead, he had left me in the hands of Aunt Harriet and that, in itself, had been entertaining. She knew nothing of the ton’s rules and restrictions. Her mishaps and odd behavior brought a smile on my gloomiest of days. I’d been enjoying myself here more than I had ever thought possible.
I was sure my letters about my outings with Aunt Harriet had amused Whitney to no end. I could almost hear her musical laughter as she read my penned descriptions of my days spent at 18 Mayfair. I missed her terribly and hoped soon she would be sent for a visit. Mother was too concerned about my introduction into society that she didn’t want Whitney here this soon to distract me. I was already distracted with what was expected of me. Even with the daily entertainment provided by Aunt Harriet, I did so miss my home.