Her cousin was able to regain her composure, therefore, until she realised that she was being regarded most earnestly by Lord Tyneham.
‘I apologise, unreservedly, for my sister’s outrageous remark,’ he murmured. ‘That she should dare to say … unforgivable.’ He was looking up at her, and his expression reminded her quite forcibly of the estate gamekeeper’s loyal spaniel. ‘She cannot appreciate that not all men look for silly girls as their helpmeet through life.’
She was unsure how to reply. In fact, she would prefer not to reply at all. Her mother noted the spaniel look. Lady Chelmarsh did not think much of Tyneham as a man, but he had wealth, and at Sophronia’s age, perhaps he might prove the only chance she would get. It would be well to watch, and if necessary, cultivate him. The biggest problem looked like being that he and his sister would be at odds within minutes if in the same room.
Sophy was saved by the arrival of Harriet, who was patently eager to show her cousin her room and discuss the current plans for their being launched into society. Lady Chelmarsh would normally have repressed such an unladylike display of enthusiasm, but in the current circumstances was simply glad to get Susan to remove from the drawing room.
‘And I too, Mama, have tasks to which I ought to give my attention,’ declared Sophy, keen to make her escape.
‘Yes, indeed, my dear. I am sure Tyneham understands.’ Lady Chelmarsh saw the look of entreaty in her daughter’s face, but was not going to keep her nephew at arm’s length. As Sophy made her apologies to her cousin and withdrew, she was heard to invite him to dine with them on the morrow, for they had no engagement this early in the Season. Sophy sighed.
Madame Clément was perfectly happy to extend the appointment of the Hadlow ladies to include the beautiful Miss Tyneham, especially when it was made clear that expense was not an issue. Harriet was delighted simply to be the centre of attention and have gowns designed specifically for her, having, in the schoolroom, been quite used to wearing those adapted from clothes her older sisters had outgrown. Lady Chelmarsh had seen no reason why this piece of domestic economy should not be employed whilst Harriet was learning French grammar and dabbling with watercolours. Now she was to be launched into the Ton it was a different matter, a matter of pride, even, that Lady Harriet Hadlow should not be dismissed as ‘just another chit’ on the marriage market. If Sophronia had been a disaster, Frances had been a success, and Lady Chelmarsh was determined to build upon that. Presenting her youngest daughter in flattering but modest apparel, making her, and not her gowns, the focus of attention, was her prime concern, and Mme Clément fully comprehended her customer’s requirements.
Fortunately for the dressmaker, Harriet lacked her sisters’ inches but had a pleasing figure, and suited dresses in a variety of styles, though she admitted the Russian bodice was not as flattering,
While Harriet was the centre of attention, Susan, naturally, became bored, and took to inspecting some of the ensembles upon display. It was a natural progression to calling a minion and demanding to be permitted to try on a very dashing spencer in red velvet and decorated in the military style with gold braid and buttons. The minion was caught between knowing it was not designed for so youthful a lady, and the mulish look on Miss Tyneham’s face, which indicated she would make a nasty scene if refused.
Thus it was that Lady Chelmarsh’s discussion about the suitability of a spangled half dress was interrupted by Miss Tyneham parading up and down in the spencer and announcing that it would be just the thing to wear to the military review in Hyde Park that her aunt had mentioned as one of the treats of the next two months.
‘Er, yes, my dear, but it is hardly …’
Susan’s body language and expression made Lady Chelmarsh wish she had brought her smelling salts.
‘With a very boringly simple white walking dress beneath, ma’am, it would not look too dashing, and the colour suits me so very well.’
It had to be admitted that it did. Mme Clément, seeing both the chance of pleasing her client and making a sale, proffered her professional advice.
‘Mademoiselle does indeed suit the colour, but worn with anything but a gown, ah, of the simplest but most carefully fitted, and in white, would make Mademoiselle look a little … old.’
This made Susan glance in the long mirror. The concept of looking ‘old’ was one she had not considered. ‘Sophisticated’ was a look to which she aspired, ‘old’ was not.
‘Do you truly think so?’
‘Why yes, Mademoiselle.’ Madame managed to sound surprised. ‘When one has the advantages of youth and beauty also, what need has one to make others look at the gown and not oneself?’ She gave a quick sidelong glance at Lady Chelmarsh, who was nodding approvingly, and saw her path clear. ‘You will not mind me saying this, Mademoiselle. Some young ladies must disguise their imperfections with detail. You have no such problem. Advertise your perfections with gowns of good cut but simple fabrics, and let lesser demoiselles hide their faults.’
This made perfect sense to Susan, and, after all, the dressmaker must see very many young clients. What in her aunt she would have dismissed, she lapped up from Mme Clément, not realising that an exquisitely cut gown on simple lines might cost as much as one more opulent in trimming. She was in London to be admired, and break hearts. She would do so better this way.
‘Why yes, that is very true.’
Lady Chelmarsh could have embraced the proprietress, but contented herself with announcing that Madame would create her niece’s wardrobe for the Season, and that Susan might have the spencer, as a gift from her aunt.
Sophy, watching this scene unfold before her, smiled at the adroitness of Madame Clément, and caught the lady’s eye. Everyone had quite successfully forgotten Sophy, which troubled her not at all.
‘Butmiladi,are you not looking for a gown to make an impression upon the beaux this Season?’
‘Me? Oh no. I have sufficient to—’
‘Actually, my love, I do think you ought to refresh your wardrobe.’ Lady Chelmarsh was in such a good humour at getting past the hurdle of purchasing appropriate toilettes for her niece that a little added expense upon her eldest daughter seemed reasonable, and if Tyneham was interested in her, it might even be considered an investment. ‘Perhaps a new pelisse for when you promenade with your sister and cousin, and a ball dress or two.’
Sophy, knowing that Madame Clément was not cheap, would have demurred, but her mama seemed so keen she simply let the pair of them have their way, and had to admit that having new clothes was rather nice. She consoled herself with the thought that her father would not object to a moderate amount spent upon her to cover the Season.
Other than the fact that Susan chattered all the way back to Hill Street about how many other debutantes would be cast into the shade by her appearance on the social scene, and made Harriet convinced that she would be one of them, the expedition could be termed a great success.
‘For I do not disguise from you, Sophronia, that I positively quaked at the thought of trying to get Susan not to behave petulantly if I did not permit her to select gowns entirely inappropriate to her years. I almost felt that I had to purchase some extra gowns for you in gratitude to Madame Clément, for the way she handled the girl.’
‘So glad I was able to be useful,’ murmured Sophy.
‘And you saw that she was perfectly meek about the choices we made for her.’ Her mother ignored the comment.
