Carola Dunn [Regency Trilogy 01] Black Sheep's Daughter (pdf)

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patroness: small and round with a pink face. She was
placid and agreeable. Teresa thought her Grace might
share her temperament as well as her looks if it were
not for the necessity of preserving her rank.
"You wanted to see me, Aurelia?" enquired Miss
Carter, looking rather like an inquisitive sparrow in
her brown silk gown.
"Yes, Amelia. This is Stafford's niece, Teresa
Danville. I am to bring her out and I shall need your
assistance."
Teresa curtsied, a nicely calculated bob suitable for
an older female of unquestioned gentility but no
status. Then she wondered whether Lady Parr's
carefully graded curtsies were as shabby genteel as
some of her other notions were turning out to be. It
was a relief not to have to walk as if her ankles were
tied together, and a still greater relief not to have to
avoid laughing. However, it was best, she decided, to
comply with her ladyship's advice until she was told
otherwise. It was certainly more appropriate than her
natural, unaffected manners.
Before the duchess could reveal Miss Carter's role
in the transformation, there was another knock and
the duke put his head round the door.
"Come in, Stafford, do," invited his wife. "I gather
you mean Teresa to have a Season, and I must know
what you mean to do for her."
"Buy the gal whatever she needs, Aurelia. You will
know best."
Teresa flushed with embarrassment. "My father
said I am to use whatever money is in his account,
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sir," she said. "He expected it to be enough for both
Marco and me."
"Fustian, missy! If a man cannot buy a few dresses
for a pretty niece, what can he spend his blunt on?
Use Edward's account for your pin-money, by all
means. I'm off to White's, Aurelia. I look to see
Edward's girl dressed to the nines, mind."
* * * *
The "nasty little man from Birmingham" arrived
shortly thereafter, delighted to be called to the ducal
mansion. He was actually tall and lanky, and when he
told Teresa that her hair was beautiful, she could not
think him nasty. He did have the most peculiar accent,
a combination of Midlands English with a patina of
French acquired from his mentor, Monsieur Henri.
Teresa was seated before her Grace's dressing table
and the coiffeur unpinned her hair, which Annie had
braided and wound into a knot on top of her head. His
nimble fingers unplaited it and brushed the dusky
cloud. "Merveller," he said in his approximation of
French, "and it'll take a curl, I'll be bound, once it's
cut. Miss can use the height, though, so I won't take
off too much. Just enough so's it's easy to put up and
don't overweigh the face. Miss's face is tray delicah."
"Speak English, man!" snapped the duchess.
"Delicate features, your Grace. Don't want to hide
'em under a bushel, do we?" He started snipping
away.
Teresa sat with her eyes shut. Her head grew
lighter and lighter and the scissors clicked on. He had
said he would not take off too much, she told herself.
"Vwahlah," said the hairdresser at last. "I mean,
there we are. Now let's see what we can do with it."
Teresa opened her eyes and was relieved to see that
there was still plenty left. "Should not my abigail be
here?" she asked. "She will need to know how to dress
it."
"Howell, send for Miss Teresa's abigail," the
duchess ordered.
A few minutes later Annie trotted in. Howell had
seen her in the servants' hall and told the duchess,
but Miss Carter was taken by surprise. "Ooh," she
squealed, "an African!"
"Do try not to be such a ninnyhammer, Amelia,"
scolded her cousin. "Remember Teresa comes from the
Americas, where everyone has black servants."
90
Teresa did not think it was the moment to explain
that there were practically no blacks in Costa Rica and
that she had rescued Annie from a sinking slave ship.
She had a lowering feeling that the duchess would not
approve of that particular exploit.
By the time the man from Birmingham had
demonstrated several possible styles, her head was
aching and she almost wished he had cut all her hair
off. He departed, promising to return in person to
dress it before her first ball. She was too exhausted to
feel the slightest spark of enthusiasm at the prospect
of that great event.
Miss Carter took one look at her drawn face and
said, "Aurelia, Miss Teresa needs a cup of tea. I do
believe she has the headache, poor child."
"A little," acknowledged Teresa, "but I shall do very
well if I lie down for half an hour."
"Howell, tea in my sitting room and something to
eat. Something light, for the dressmaker will be here
shortly."
Teresa groaned internally at the thought of
spending the afternoon being measured and draped
and pinned. However, after lying for a few minutes on
the sofa in the duchess's sitting room, she consumed
several cups of tea and a couple of Jacques's divine
chicken vol-au-vents and found her usual energy
restored.
* * * *
Madame Roquier, who had no intention of going
back to France while business in London was so good,
arrived with an assistant bearing pattern books. They
were followed by three of the duke's footmen laden
with bolts of cloth. She took one look at Teresa and
began picking out all the rolls of white and pastel
fabrics.
"Zese you may take back down to mon �quipage,"
she said, to Teresa's astonishment. Those were just
the colours that, according to Lady Parr, should be
worn by an unmarried girl. The modiste turned to the
duchess and explained, "Your Grace, I know nozzing of
zis young lady I am to dress, so I bring everysing.
White she cannot wear. It makes to look sallow zis
golden skin. And zese ruffles pah! Miss must wear ze
jewel tones, vibrant, alive. Regardez-moi �a. She
seized a length of amethyst silk and draped it around
Teresa's shoulders.
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There was a murmur of approval.
"I cannot see!" wailed Teresa.
"Put those down," the duchess directed the two
footmen who still stood holding the rest of the fabrics,
"and fetch the cheval glass from the dressing room."
Teresa looked at her reflection and gasped. Her face
was no longer "shockingly brown," but warm amber.
The rich sheen of the silk made her complexion glow,
and her dark eyes shone with excitement. She turned
to her aunt and smiled.
"Not passably pretty," said the duchess. "Not an
Incomparable, perhaps, but do you know, my dear
Teresa, I'd wager we shall do very well!"
Chapter 10
Madame Roquier did not mean to risk losing such a
lucrative and influential customer as the Duchess of
Stafford. Early the very next afternoon her young
assistant delivered two gowns. She carried them up to
Miss Danville's dressing room so that she could make
any necessary adjustments.
"Buenos d�as," said Gayo. The girl screeched and
dropped the pile of boxes. "What a pity," he said sadly.
From one of the boxes spilled a promenade dress of
bronze gros de Naples, with a cashemire shawl
patterned in bronze and cream and a huge muff of
cream-coloured fur. Teresa admired it briefly, but she
was captivated by the walking dress. It was sapphire
blue, a figured silk patterned with tiny rosettes of
darker blue. The neckline was trimmed with cream
Brussels lace; otherwise the bodice was very plain. The
skirt fell straight from the high waist, ornamented just
above the hem by a wide band of the same lace, which
also finished the long sleeves.
Annie helped Teresa out of Muriel's old morning
gown, for the last time, she hoped. Madame Roquier's
assistant helped her into the new walking dress, then [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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