“Henrietta Wardley-Hines.” Lady Althea Pomeroy sailed through the parlor door. “You will refrain from spouting Jacobin sentiments at the Queen’s levee.” She twirled a finger in the air. “Turn about.”
“Olympe de Gouges wrote in herDeclarationthat female citizens of a new French republic should hold the same rights as men.” Henrietta kicked at her heavy mass of skirts, submitting to her aunt’s inspection.
“French sentiments, suitable for French subjects. I guessed that Clarinda would not trouble herself about your jewels, so I brought something for you.” Aunt Althea held up an enormous collar of emeralds and diamonds.
Henrietta caught her breath as the cold, heavy necklace settled around her throat. “Another gift from Aunt Davinia? I would rather see it given to the Minerva Society’s collection drive for the settlement in Sierra Leone. This collar could support any number of freed people in a new life.”
“Henrietta Eglantine Wardley-Hines.” Althea pressed a finger to the small frown that Henrietta often seemed to provoke. “It may have amused Aunt Davinia to send you to that eccentric girl’s school, but you are in London now, where society is not as forgiving. People still say my sister Apollonia threw herself away on a mill owner, and that was three decades ago.”
Charley slapped his leg with his sword again, and Henrietta smoothed away a scowl. Jasper Hines may have been born in a northern crofter’s cottage, but by the time he came to court the eldest Wardley daughter, he could offer her five mills, a shipping business that brought his raw cotton in and ferried the finished cloth out, and a gracious estate in the Rossendale Fells in return for her hand and her ancient name, which he adopted.
“And your father may have reached even higher for his second marriage,” Aunt Althea went on, guiding Henrietta to the mirror above the mantel so she might poke the drooping ostrich feathers back into Henrietta’s wig. “But everyone knows he offered the Earl of Warrefield a fortune for Clarinda.”
Henrietta choked beneath the necklace, the gown, these judgments she so loathed. Aunt Althea’s society didn’t care that the Wardley-Hines empire, which included canals, shipping interests, and textile mills, employed the inhabitants of five parishes and endowed almshouses, orphanages, and schoolsacross two counties. They were involved in trade, and trade was demeaning.
“I suppose people will say that my father bought his knighthood as well,” Henreitta said. For the Wardley-Hines income had also furnished a large loan to the Crown to support a militia protecting British interests in Mysore, and the conclusion of hostilities in March resulted in honors all around, including the Order of Knight Bachelor for Jasper Wardley-Hines.
“I cannot help what people say, Henrietta,” Aunt Althea said. “I can only beg you to remember, for your brother’s sake and mine, that the Wardley name still carries some dignity.”
As Henrietta moved away from the mirror, the catastrophic sound of rending fabric filled the room. She slapped both hands to her mouth, holding back a giggle at her aunt’s horrified expression.
“I fear that portends the state of my dignity, Aunt Althea!” Henrietta intoned, striking a theatrical pose which did not amuse her aunt in the least.
Marsibel, the peacemaker, rushed to her rescue, untangling Henrietta’s skirts from the firedogs and fetching Lady Clarinda’s sewing basket from the table. Henrietta spoke around the pins in her mouth as she repaired her hem.
“Miss Wollstonecraft writes in herVindicationthat it is a disservice to teach young women only to concern themselves with appearance rather than equip them with practical skills. I wonder if that would be a fruitful topic for debate?”
“Miss Wollstonecraft would be a great deal more amiable if she would dispense with her endless complaints about women.” Aunt Althea frowned at the white ribbon around Henrietta’s sleeve. “Still, Hetty? It has been a year.”
“Not quite. Lady Mama is wearing one too.” Henrietta blinked back tears.
Charley scoffed. “Can’t see why you’re still mourning Fanny when Clarinda’s adding to her nursery again. I suppose Jasper wants a boy this time?”
“Mama, do you suppose I—?” Marsibel indicated her own sleeve.
“No, my dear. The child was not your full cousin, only Henrietta’s half-sister. Now, where is Sir Pelton? It is time we set out.”
Sir Pelton Pomeroy strode into the parlor with his ceremonial sword swinging at his side, the badge of his order gleaming upon his chest, and his wig curled, powdered, and padded almost as high as the ladies’. Once a hot-headed MP from Devon known as Pell Mell, Sir Pelton had risen to a respected and crucial post in Prime Minister Pitt’s cabinet, and no matter what the young dandies might think of him, he would wear his wig into his grave.
Sir Pelton bowed to his wife and daughter, then turned to his niece. “My dear Hetty. You look?—”
“Like a dodo, or an emu,” Henrietta confirmed. “A big, fluffy, flightless bird.” She swept up her train and grimaced as she glimpsed an exposed pin.
“I think there’s a portrait of your Aunt Davinia wearing that dress in one of the royal palaces,” Sir Pelton said. “In fact, Her Majesty may recognize it.”
“All to the good if she does,” Henrietta said. “Then no one will inquire why the daughter of a man who made his fortune in cotton mills is wearing miles and miles of silk.”
They filed out the door and commenced the complicated task of fitting three sets of hooped skirts and headdresses and the gentlemen’s swords into the Pomeroy town coach, and Henrietta wondered briefly where Nancy was. Well on her way, or safely at her sister’s already?
Henrietta envied her. Nancy was also embarking on a new stage of her life, but one of freedom and self-governance. The coachman cracked his whip over the set of six matched bays, and Henrietta’s stomach jolted with nervousness as the coach rolled forward. She feared her new stage of life would mean fewer freedoms, not more.
Sir Pelton folded his hands over his middle and stretched out his legs. “Well, Hetty, what have you been up to this week?”
Henrietta’s fingertips went cold with panic. Had her uncle heard of her exploits that morning?
“Making a cake of herself, as usual,” Charley said. “Peddling pamphlets about the book rooms and tea shops, begging people for money.”
“For good cause,” Henrietta said. “One of the girls from the Benevolence Hospital opened her dress shop this week, and she’s taken several girls on as apprentices. Tomorrow the St. Marylebone Ladies Auxiliary visits the parish workhouse.” She sent her brother a lightly scolding look. “And tonight, Charley is escorting Marsi and me to Lord Ellesmere’s to see his latest acquisitions.”
