An Improper Companion Read online

  I nodded. Perhaps Sir Leslie was so plump in the pocket that convenience should always outweigh cost. If this were true and I was satisfactory, I could expect generous wages. Though truly I had no conception of what would be generous and what would be merely customary. As we entered the establishment, a forbidding woman dressed in grey approached. “I believe you have the wrong—” she began.

  Mr. Thornsby interrupted her. “Please tell Mademoiselle Suzette that Mr. Thornsby wishes to see her on a matter for Sir Leslie Kinwell.”

  The woman’s eyes swept over me with disdain. “I will put you in a fitting room until Mademoiselle has time to see you. This way,” she said.

  We followed, I timidly, Mr. Thornsby with calm self-assurance. This assurance was justified for we waited not above five minutes before Mademoiselle Suzette entered the room. “Monsieur Thornsby. What have you for me today?” she asked imperiously.

  He took my hand and brought me forward. “Miss Heather Wade. She is to be the new companion Sir Leslie requested.” Mademoiselle regarded me but briefly. “You are hoaxing me!”

  “Sir Leslie requested ‘someone unusual, this time.’ Also, he is growing impatient and I have no one else to send,” he replied smoothly. “And Miss Wade is greatly in need of a position. She has no money, and no family or friends to help her. She has assured me she will try to provide satisfaction.”

  “I see,” Mademoiselle said sharply. “And where will she stay until she leaves for this position? She has no money but she cannot stay with you!”

  “I had hoped she might stay here,” he replied, “with your seamstresses. Tonight. She leaves tomorrow for Sir Leslie’s estate.”

  “Now I truly know you are mad!” she said. “What do you expect me to do for her in one day?”

  “She only needs a few things,” he said meekly. “Three dresses: one day, one evening, and one other. And whatever nether garments you think suitable.”

  “Tiens! You ask much!”

  “But you will do it?” he asked.

  “Yes, yes. For Sir Leslie. I must to take dresses promised other ladies, but yes I will do it.”

  “And she can sleep here?” he persisted.

  “Yes, yes. Now leave us. You know where my office is. Wait there. I wish to speak further with you on this matter,” she commanded. As he withdrew she turned to me. “Remove your dress, child. I must to see how large you are so I can to find the correct dresses.”

  She helped with the buttons and soon I stood in my shift. She had just placed a tape around my waist when, for the second time that day, I disgraced myself. I fainted. In the distance I heard Mademoiselle exclaim, “Mon Dieu!”

  I came around to find Mademoiselle and a young woman bending over me. “Are you ill?” Mademoiselle demanded anxiously.

  “I’m sorry,” I said flushing, “not ill, only I have not eaten since last night.”

  “Not eaten?” she echoed. Then to the young woman she said, “Stay with her. Mon Dieu, Monsieur Thornsby is a fool. You will have tea immediately. Betes!”

  She swept out of the room and my companion giggled. “She will ring a peal over poor Mr. Thornsby. Is he your father or guardian?”

  I shook my head. “No. He has a domestic agency. He is sending me to Sir Leslie Kinwell to be a companion.”

  “Sir Leslie?” she seemed impressed. “Top-of-the-trees, he is. I saw him once. He came here with a young woman.”

  “His wife?” I asked.

  She looked at me oddly. After a moment, she replied, “No, his—”

  “Tais-toi, Ellen!” a voice snapped. Startled, we turned to see Mademoiselle Suzette standing in the doorway. “I have ordered a tea, Miss Wade. After you have eaten, we begin. We have not enough of time, even so. Ellen, come with me, you are needed elsewhere.”

  As they left I felt a wave of remorse. I had forgotten one of Mrs. Gilwen’s rules: never encourage tradesmen or servants to gossip. Mademoiselle was quite right to be angry with me. But I could not forget what Ellen had said. Sir Leslie was a nonpareil. Well, what of it? I asked myself. That will not concern you. If he has an account here, surely he is married or has grown daughters. He would not stand the nonsense simply to dress servants. I was still daydreaming when Ellen entered with a tray. “Can’t stay,” she said, setting it on the small table, “enjoy!”

  Then she was gone—nervously, it seemed. I surveyed the tea tray. The pot was filled with a tea comparable to that served in Mrs. Gilwen’s school. On a plate were several small pastries and buns. I was not quite sure it was all meant for me and at first I was timid in serving myself. No one entered to join me, however, and gradually I grew more bold. As though she had been waiting outside until the moment, Mademoiselle Suzette entered just as I ate the last crumb. “You have eaten it all?” she asked. “Bon. Now, we begin. Again with the size. You have a small waist, bon. The hips, they are not so small. The bosom, a little small, but do not worry, mon enfant. Mademoiselle Suzette knows how to dress this.”

  I wondered at Mademoiselle’s concern with my figure. Earnestly, I hoped that Sir Leslie was not the sort of loose-screw w who requested attractive servants so that he might flirt with them. Still worse if he had a young son who was so ramshackle. I was comforted by Mrs. Gilwen’s assertion that a young lady who was careful need never fear improper advances.

  “Sit,” Mademoiselle commanded and then she left.

  She returned a few minutes later with Ellen, who carried several dresses of various colours and fabrics. Ellen held each in turn against me as Mademoiselle watched. Occasionally she would murmur something such as, “Tiens! Not such a colour with her hair,” or “Mon Dieu, with this one she looks ill.”

  At last the process was completed and all the dresses were scattered on the chaise. “We begin with the green!” Mademoiselle announced. To me she explained, “It is perhaps a little heavy for summer, but the castle is always cold.”

  So, I thought, Sir Leslie has a castle. I was eager to know more but dared not ask. As Mademoiselle had promised, the green dress suited me well. It concealed the unevenness of my figure and I was amazed to know I could look so pretty. “Her hair!” Mademoiselle commanded.

  Ellen took my chestnut hair out of its severe knot and brushed it, curling the ends slightly with her fingers. Then she pinned my hair so that a curl rested against my neck, a green ribbon threaded through it. The effect in the glass seemed to me enchanting. “Bon,” Mademoiselle sighed. “So. The day dress, it is decided. Set it to the side, Ellen. Now we begin with evening. The blue silk, Ellen.”

  When Ellen had arranged the dress and stepped back, I felt naked. My shoulders were bare as well as most of my bosom. And in the glass I saw that I looked like a child dressed in her mother’s gown. Mademoiselle shook her head regretfully. “I cannot to make you older than you are. Ellen, the dress for Lady Welton’s daughter.”

  Happily, I exchanged the silk for a more modest gown of gauze and satin. This time the choice was a success. My only concern was that Sir Leslie might consider me too daring or presumptuous in wearing such a lovely dress. I said this to Mademoiselle and she smiled, “I know Sir Leslie well. He will approve. Bon, this also is decided.”

  “Lady Welton’s daughter?” I asked tentatively.

  Mademoiselle grimaced. “Mon Dieu, that child. Nothing will improve her. Another dress will do as well. Better this one for you.”

  The third was chosen with little discussion. There was but one ready that might be worn by me as an afternoon dress. I was fortunate that it was a gentle shade of primrose and not unkind to my features. Mademoiselle Suzette was as relieved as I when the choices had been made. “Enfin!” she sighed. “We must to make little changes here and there and so with this one. But all will be ready. The rest is no difficulty. We must to have a trunk but this Monsieur Thornsby brings already. Tiens! Sit, child.”

  This last remark was addressed to me and I was happy to obey. There are few occupations (for a gentlewoman) more tiring than the fitting of dresses. The
selection of three gowns, with the subsequent pinning and marking, had absorbed more than three hours. I was grateful that Mademoiselle Suzette felt there would be no need for a session for fitting undergarments. I was alone, once more, in the little room. Ellen had left with Mademoiselle; one to alter my new dresses, the other to supervise her busy establishment. The extent of Mademoiselle Suzette’s attention to me marked the importance she attached to Sir Leslie’s patronage. I did not mind being left alone. I only hoped someone would remember me later when dinner was served to the seamstresses.

  I should have realised, of course, that Mademoiselle Suzette was far too efficient to forget any task and that no doubt was how she viewed me. She sent Ellen to summon me to the evening meal she presided over. There were six of us, that evening: Mademoiselle, Ellen, myself, the woman who had greeted Mr. Thornsby in such a top-lofty manner (I thought of her as Dragon), and two young women slightly older than Ellen. The meal was eaten in a silence broken only by Dragon and Mademoiselle Suzette. To my surprise, there was no cutting up stiff over mistakes made during the day, though I had gathered from Ellen that several had occurred. My respect for Mademoiselle Suzette increased, for it seemed she gave few sharp setdowns. Dragon, however, I found quite odious. The feeling seemed mutual. Often, as I glanced at the head of the table that night, I discovered Dragon regarding me with unconcealed disapproval. I could not understand her enmity. Did she feel I was encroaching? And could this alone account for her dislike? It never occurred to me that she knew or cared about my new position and that this was the basis for her disapproval. After dinner, Mademoiselle asked me to stay behind. When the others had gone back to their work, she asked if I could sew. I replied that I could. Well? Again I said yes. She seemed pleased. “Bon. There is much to do and if you could help with hems...”

  I smiled and answered truthfully, “It would please me to have a task.”

  She hesitated. “Child, are you certain you wish to be this companion? I could perhaps find work for you here.”

  It was meant kindly, but pride made me stand straight and calmly reply, “It is what I wish.”

  She sighed. “I felt you would speak so. But, if later ... come here and I will help you.”

  I thanked her stiffly and followed her to the workroom where she gave me the primrose dress to hem. I hoped that Mademoiselle understood. It was not that I disliked sewing; indeed, often when I wished to relax at school I turned to my needle. Nor did I feel it would be beneath me to be a seamstress. Had I been unable to find other work, I would have joined the profession cheerfully. Rather, it was a need to prove myself. What value in finding a position only to throw it over for another before the first is even begun? Mr. Thornsby would have rightly felt me to be a gadfly. And yet I will not say that as I worked among the laughing seamstresses, I felt no call to linger here. I liked the women I had met at Mademoiselle Suzette’s establishment. Of Sir Leslie I knew nothing save that he lived in a castle and had need of a companion for some woman of his family. Yes, I felt an urge to stay, but I will not deceive myself: it was no premonition. I felt far removed from the schoolroom as I fell asleep that night.

  Chapter 2

  We were at the posting house, Mr. Thornsby and I, with the trunk which now contained my new clothes and the bag I had brought with me from the school. It was a sunny morning with a slight breeze that sang through the city. Even dour tradesmen seemed to smile more than was their wont. I felt competent and sure of myself and was conscious that now I had a sense of purpose. Mr. Thornsby, however, did not share the mood of the city. He seemed, to my surprise, sharp-set. As we waited he repeated his instructions for the eighth time. “You are to give the letter of introduction to Sir Leslie’s housekeeper and she will be sure he receives it. You have the letter? Are you certain? Let me see. Good. Now then, you will arrive too late for an interview with Sir Leslie this evening, but you are expected. Tomorrow, no doubt, Sir Leslie will explain all your duties to you. I trust you will try to provide satisfaction. I wish I could be sure ... but you will remember that you wanted this position badly, regardless of how unusual it might be?”

  I assured Mr. Thornsby that he should hear no complaints from me and none from Sir Leslie if it were in my power to prevent it. The next moment the mail coach arrived, and Mr. Thornsby had no opportunity to plague me further with instructions or questions. The last vision I have of the courtyard is Mr. Thornsby’s anxious face. I wondered if he were so fatherly with all the young women who passed through his agency.

  My only regret, that morning, was that travel was by mail and not chaise and four. (I had had little experience with either save rare occasions when a school friend had taken me home with her for a visit to the country. But the jolting of carriages I recalled could have been no worse than this.) I was soon feeling too uncomfortable to interest myself with the scenery. Particularly as one of the women in the coach was finding it impossible to soothe her infant. I do not know how many miles we travelled, but it was well past nightfall when my stop was announced. With a sense of relief, I stepped onto the ground. The evening was pleasantly cool and my earlier mood returned. I felt almost gay as I asked the hostler how I might reach Sir Leslie Kinwell’s castle. His reply surprised me. “Why the divil do ye want to go there?” he demanded.

  Though startled, I retained my composure. “I am to be a companion at the castle.”

  His eyes swept over me, the disbelief evident. “Ye don’t look like a companion.”

  Pride rescued me. Frostily I said, “That’s as may be. Nevertheless, there are those who do not question my qualifications.”

  He eyed me almost sadly, or so it seemed. “Well, lass, if ye’re determined, I’ll take ye up there meself. Where’s yer cloak? ’Twill be a chilly ride.”

  This last remark came as the innkeeper put my trunk in his wagon. I flushed and was grateful for the night that masked my colour. “I-I have none,” I stammered “and it’s not so cold, I think.”

  He shook his head but said nothing more about it. As we rode he returned to the question of my position, “How did Sir Leslie convince ye to come to his castle?”

  “Oh, I’ve not seen Sir Leslie,” I explained. “Mr. Thornsby sent me.”

  “Mr. Thornsby?”

  “He has a domestic agency in London,” I said.

  The hostler was quiet for a moment. “Domestic agency, ye say,” he murmured. “As with maids and governesses?”

  “Yes, of course, and companions.”

  “Lass,” he blurted, “I’m thinking ye do not realise exactly the sort of work ye’ll be expected to do.”

  Haughtily I interrupted him. “Mr. Thornsby explained it was a somewhat unusual position. That does not disturb me. And Mr. Thornsby seemed certain that Sir Leslie would be satisfied.”

  I had reduced the gentle old man to silence. And in silence we travelled the remainder of the short journey. I regretted this for there were many questions. I would have asked had he been less disapproving. But I was determined to give him no further opportunity to cast me down. The castle was dark when we approached, and I could not truly judge its size that first night. My first thought was that Sir Leslie might be elsewhere and the castle shut. I must have spoken aloud for my companion growled, “Ye’ll not be so lucky.” He turned to me, “Lass, if ye find the job not to yer liking, come to me, Mike, at the Three Ducks and my wife and I will help ye.”

  I thanked him, but could not help feeling impatient with all the people who doubted I would be happy in my new position. I waited as he brought my trunk to the door. How good a bed would feel!

  The door opened suddenly and a sharp voice demanded, “Well, what do ye want?”

  Mike answered for me, “I’ve brought Miss—”

  “Heather Wade,” I said.

  “She’s to be-the new companion,” he continued. “A Mr. Thornsby sent her, Mrs. Morgan.”

  Apparently Mrs. Morgan knew Mike well, for she answered curtly, “That will do, thank ye. Good-bye.” Grumbling, he tur
ned and walked away. I called after him, ‘!Thank you, Mike, for bringing me.”

  I could not hear his reply and I turned to greet Mrs. Morgan. “Good evening,” I said, “I’ve a letter from Mr. Thornsby.”

  She took the letter and placed it in her pocket. “Come in, Miss Wade. John!” she yelled. Then to me, “He’ll bring yer things. There’s a chamber ready, of course, though Mr. Thornsby might have warned me earlier. Well, come, come. I suppose ye’ll be wanting tea?”

  I signified I would. Mrs. Morgan seemed to wish to intimidate me and I would not have it. So, with a mutual sense of dislike, we proceeded to my chamber with John close behind. My first impression of the room was that someone had made a mistake, that this room could not possibly be meant for me. The chamber was large with a fireplace and sitting room at one end, the bedroom at the other. Several carpets were placed about and the bed curtains were velvet. I turned and faced Mrs. Morgan. “Thank you. Tea will be very welcome.”

  Without a word, she withdrew. John still carried my trunk. “Set it down there, please,” I said, pointing to the floor beside one of the wardrobes.

  As soon as he had left, I carefully surveyed my chamber again. Well, I told myself, Sir Leslie must be very wealthy if a mere companion is assigned a room such as this. Or perhaps the position is so difficult he feels the companion must be cosseted.

  In one corner, behind a screen, was a stand with pitcher and basin and other necessities. Near the bed was a dressing table with a large mirror, and along one wall there was a small bookcase. This surprised and pleased me. I enjoyed novels and would not scorn these. And surely Sir Leslie had a library I might have access to if my duties left time for reading. I was thus musing when a young woman appeared with tea and a light supper. She stared at me, forgetting to set the tray on the table. “Come in,” I said, “and do set that down. What is your name?”