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Antonia knew for a fact that both she and Frances disliked Selina intensely, so expected a deliciously catty reply.
“Dear God, her gown was embroidered with chenille in the pattern of a large stone urn crammed with flowers, no urns on the sleeves, but two or three on the tail. More suited to a stucco staircase than a lady’s gown. But, oh, my dear, she has languor down to an art. Lisps Italian now!” Frances laughed.
“Her refined delicacy belies that she has to pour her three-bottle husband into bed every night,” Roz added spitefully.
“Poor lady,” Antonia said softly.
“Darling, I know disapproval when I hear it,” Frances said with her eyes sparkling. “You’ll have to sharpen your tongue before next season. Indulging in scandalous gossip is society’s newest hobby. Well, I’m off.”
“I’ve always known that, darling,” Roz said dryly.
When Lady Jersey left, Antonia said, “What happened to the days when ladies discussed the latest fashions and beauty recipes?”
“Oh, now we can read about all that stuff in theSt. James’s Chronicle.Leaves us more time to malign our friends. I must buy all the latest periodicals before we leave London.” She glanced shrewdly at Antonia. “I take it your interview at Watson and Goldman proved unprofitable?”
“What I learned made me furious. A woman is entirely under the control of a father, a brother, or a husband with the added hindrance of a guardian in my case. Roz, I am going to be such a thorn in the side of Savage, he’ll relinquish the guardianship!”
“Well, darling, since there’s nothing you can do until he arrives in England, I suggest you put him out of your mind and we’ll go shopping.”
“Nothing I can do?” Antonia smiled, her wicked juices starting to bubble. “Watch me!”
They took a chair to the Exchange, which was filled with specialty shops. Roz spotted a five-foot stick with a hinged jade topknot to carry a message or snuff, and lusted for it.
Antonia said, “You must have it, only think how envious Lady Jersey will be.”
“It’s elegant but extravagant. I cannot afford it.”
“Oh, Roz, we aren’t paying. The bills can be sent along to Watson and Goldman. My guardian can attend to the dreary matter of settling accounts.”
Before they left the Exchange, Antonia had acquired a petticoat with whalebone hoops, a quilted calico wrapper, a seed pearl pomander, and a fan painted with the loves of Jove. She couldn’t resist a brimmed straw hat with cherry ribbons, especially designed for carrying rather than wearing, and a stomacher with matching cherry ribbons in rungs like a ladder. They each bought summer muffs, red high-heeled slippers, and a new dress. Roz chose a sky-blue, especially suited to her tiny figure. It had a long-waisted bodice, with side panniers looped back into a bustle, and a small train.
Antonia who had half a dozen ball-gowns as yet unworn, chose something for daytime. It was a pale green muslin sprigged with tiny violets. For Anthony she bought two pairs of the very modern pantaloons that went to the ankle, with the strap designed to go under the boot. “I must take a couple of these yellow oilskins. They’ll be perfect for keeping us dry when we go sailing. Now all we need are your periodicals and I venture to say we’ve done enough damage for one day.”
As they caught each other’s eye, they couldn’t keep straight faces. “Antonia, I am proud of you.”
They had so many packages, they had to take two chairs back to Curzon Street. As the sedans swung down the Strand, it was thronged with uniformed soldiers, Life Guards in scarlet, Horse Grenadiers with their sky-blue caps emblazoned in gold and silver, and Halberdiers still garbed in long coats and ruffs as they had been in the days of Henry Tudor.
Fashionable ladies with their towering pomaded hairdos rubbed shoulders with foreign adventurers, eye-patched Aspasias, pickpockets, piemen, and barefoot beggar boys. When they turned into Charing Cross it was like a fashion parade. Beaus thronged the chocolate- and coffeehouses with their red-curtained windows, using their quizzing glasses to ogle the orange girls and the occasional prostitute daring enough to walk the streets in this fashionable part of town.
Fops on every corner tried to outdo each other in outrageous fashions wearing bright yellow coats, waistcoats embroidered with flowers and butterflies, and zebra-striped pantaloons. All wore either lacquer-hilted swords or carried the newfangled sword sticks, that they juggled with snuffboxes, fans, and handkerchiefs.
Antonia thought their costumes more suited to the stage than the street. She experienced a pang of regret that she wouldn’t be able to attend the theater while they were in town. Londoners had an insatiable appetite for social life, and as a result pleasure gardens and new theaters were opening up in every part of the city.
That night Bernard Lamb sat in the second row at the Olympia, avidly watching Angela Brown strut about in her suggestive page-boy costume of tights and full-skirted coat that almost, but not quite, covered the pretty cheeks of her derrière. That was what made Angela so exciting. She had the face of an innocent child, but her scanty costumes and the saucy things she did with her body let you know she was a very naughty child indeed. Her voice was sweet as an angel’s, and before her song was finished Bernard went backstage to wait for her.
“Look wot the cat dragged in,” she said cheekily, brushing past him.
He took her arm and told her about his prospects.
“Pull the other one, luv, it’s got bells on it.” she said, refusing to be gulled.
Bernard pulled out the obituary of the late Lord Lamb that he’d clipped from theGazetteand handed it to her. “My cousin Anthony is the present Lord Lamb and I’m the heir apparent. He’s only seventeen with no heirs of his body, and I can tell you on good authority he’s not expected to live much longer.”
“Whose authority?” Angela asked, suddenly becoming very interested.
Bernard smiled cunningly. “My authority, Angel Face.” His hand moved down from her arm to cup her exposed buttock.
She saw that he was sporting brand-new clothes, from the latest Petersham neckcloth to the polished Hessians. She wanted to believe him, but was a skeptic by nature.
