Page 17 of In the Eyes of Lord Lingley

“Would M’Lady care to interview the maids whom I have prepared for her consideration?” She asked in thickly accented English. “There are four.”

“Do they all speak French?” Mary asked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Oui, my lady. They are all fine French maids. Would you prefer an English maid?” She gave her a skeptical look, which even her stoic face could not hide.

“No, not at all,” Mary replied in embarrassment. “I only wish to find someone native with whom I could speak French, as my accent needs some training. I have never heard the language spoken, you see. I would prefer to speak it correctly rather than the usual English school-girl mumbling.”

Madame Durand blinked in surprise. “Oh, of course. Shall we meet in half an hour? I shall send Marie to escort you.”

Mary thanked her, and she excused herself to prepare for the meeting as Langley and Mary cleaned up from their travels. Mary looked down at her thin frame with a worried frown as she removed her traveling gown. She had grown used to Lingley’s assistance but it would be a relief to have someone trained to do something with her wild hair. She hoped she could find someone who would not judge her for her lacking manners and spotty education. Lady Lucas had a French lady’s maid, and she was haughty and disdainful of everyone, even her employer.

The maid, Marie, did the last of her fasteners when she arrived, chattering pleasantly all the while, relaxing Mary into complacency as they descended the stairs. When she entered the small sitting room, all of her fears were realized as each of the maids cast a disparaging look at her hair, which she had twisted into a knot on the top of her head. She asked a question or two for form’s sake before politely dismissing them all.

Madame Durand frowned mightily as they filed out. “Nadine worked formerly for Duc du Renault! What could have been wrong with her? Theo was trained by Comtess Girault’s own maid!”

Mary’s apprehension spiked at the perceived displeasure, and she nearly curled in on herself, but remembering the words of her husband, straitened her spine and replied, “I am sure they were excellent candidates, but none of them answered my requirements. I have decided to have Marie fill the position.”

“Marie?” she gasped. “But she has had almost no training in such a position!”

“Are you saying that she would be terrible at it?” Mary questioned.

“Not at all!” She scoffed as if offended by the very idea. “She is my own daughter; it is only that she has had no experience with hairstyles. She will do very well with the management of your wardrobe and chamber but will need further instruction on how you prefer to wear your hair.”

“Unfortunately, that is something with which I have little experience as well. At least not hairstyles which flatter the texture and what not.”

“Perhaps we should send for Monsieur Race, a well-known coiffeur here in Paris. He will trim up your hair and advise you on which crèmes would be best.”

“An excellent plan,” Mary agreed. “As soon as at all possible. I do not wish to bring embarrassment to my husband.”

Unlike her English counterparts, Madame Durand was much more pragmatic, and rather than empty assurances, she eyed her hair critically and agreed. “Lord Linley sent word that you would be purchasing your trousseau here in Paris, of course, and requested Madame Courant attend you in the morning. If Monsieur Race is available, I will have him come the day after.”

“Merci, Madame,” Mary thanked her and released her to her duties after she informed Marie that she was to be her ladyship’s new maid. She returned to her room to await the young woman.

“Oh, my lady!” Marie gushed as she bounded into the room. “I am so grateful! I never thought— never even imagined! I shall not fail you, vraisment!”

Mary could not help her smile and the girl’s exuberant excitement. “Thank you for your willingness to take the position. There are two tasks which I have for you. The first is to assist me in ordering my clothes beginning tomorrow. I am certain that there is much talk below stairs of my lacking wardrobe—”

“Oh, no! Not at all. Monsieur Goodman, Lord Lingley’s man, explained how your luggage was dropped overboard when you were boarding the ship and was declared a complete loss. Everyone was most aggrieved on your behalf.”

Mary flushed at the deception, but recognizing it as the kindness it was, allowed it to stand. “I see. Thank you for telling me. My second task is of a more personal nature. I would like your assistance with my pronunciation of the French language. I am entirely proficient at reading and writing it. But I have never heard it spoken by someone other than my sisters, and they were mostly self-taught as well.”

“Of course, my lady!”

“Excelenté,” Mary declared with a strong Spanish accent, which made the girl smile, though she was kind enough not to laugh.

“Ex-see-lant,” she corrected.

Mary flushed but repeated the word several times. "I wish to speak only in French from now on, please.”

"I must tell you honestly, I did not understand more than half of what you said. Perhaps to start, you might speak English and I shall reply in French?”

Mary’s brow wrinkled in frustration. “I do not think I understood you correctly.” She thought for a moment and then fetched a book from her open bag. It was a French novel, and she held it up triumphantly. “We shall take turns reading to one another. I have read it several times before and thus should be able to work out what you are saying from the story. Hopefully, that will allow me to learn more quickly.”

“You speak Spanish as well?” Durand asked.

Mary nodded.

“I can tell as you are speaking the French with many Spanish accents. Let us go over your basic vowels and consonants and begin from there. Unlike Spanish, we have several that are silent, but only in certain situations.”