Page 32 of A Marriage is Arranged

It was a long time before Gareth left Louise, and both of them slept late the day of the Ball. When he finally arose, the Earl thought it was just as well he had not planned to go to Jackson’s that morning. His level of vigor would definitely have been impaired. He breakfasted and went to the library to read the newspaper and escape the activity that was engulfing the house.

It was already like a beehive. Footmen were bringing down chairs that had been stored under sheets in the attic since the last Ball and the maids were swarming over them with dusters. There would be over a hundred people there, and sooner or later, they would all need to sit. Lisle was supervising the lowering of the chandeliers so the candles could be replaced. Every candle in the house must be new! was the Dowager’s dictum. Between the chandeliers, the wall sconces, and the candelabra in the public rooms, in the foyer, up the stairs, in the ballroom, the billiard room, the card room and the bedrooms prepared for the guests’ comfort, hundreds of new candles were being put in place.

Mrs. Smith was taking delivery of huge bouquets of flowers and disposing them in enormous vases throughout the house. The boot boy, watching them disappearing upstairs wondered aloud if there was a single flah left in Lunnon . Mrs. Bootle and her assistants had already been working for days preparing foodstuffs that could be made in advance, but today the kitchen would be in constant activity from dawn until after the last guests left .

The supper would be made up of foods that guests could eat with their plates on their laps, or at least not at the dining table, where the buffet would be laid. Pastry cases had been made the day before, but today they would be filled or stuffed: pork pies, fish pies, lobster patties, leek custards, mushroom tarts, and cheese flans. Fritters would be made at the last minute to be brought upstairs piping hot. Little cakes had to be iced, pretty strawberry tarts filled, creams whipped, fresh fruit placed artistically in dishes, and nuts and bonbons piled in bowls. And then there was the white soup to be served at the end of the Ball — gallons of it. That would be the signal for the remaining guests (and the number of guests remaining was an indication of the success of the Ball) to go home and leave the hosts in peace. Louise had already agreed with Mrs. Smith that lunch for herself and the Earl would be a cold collation. Cook had enough to do.

Louise awoke with an enormous sense of well-being. She and her husband had crossed some sort of frontier the night before and for the first time she really felt like his wife. Today she would be at his side, being introduced to the best and brightest of the ton . She would wear her wedding gown, which she knew became her. She had never been so happy in her life.

She dressed in one of her old gowns and went downstairs around mid-morning to join in the sea of activity. She dealt with an argument in the garden where the footmen had brought chairs outside, making holes in the sanded footpaths and placing them just where they would get in the way. The gardeners were steaming. These ardent protectors of the shrubs and flowers also had a thousand good reasons why everywhere she wished to place the lanterns would not work.

Then she relieved a harassed Mrs. Smith who was dealing with a crying chambermaid. The girl had broken a glass globe on one of the candelabra and was wailing that it shouldn’t come out of ‘er wages. It were ’ Arry the footman’s fault because ’e’d put his ’and where he shouldn’t just as she was dusting it. The Countess reassured the girl that no one would be charged for the broken globe and listened to the affronted footman who said ’e never put ’is ’and nowhere. Why would ’e touch a girl like that silly Molly when ’e was walkin’ out with someone much better?

Then it became apparent that some of the lilies the Dowager had ordered for the flower arrangements were dropping yellow pollen on the polished furniture surfaces or worse, on the Aubusson rugs, and staining them. Louise gave the crying chambermaid a pair of nail scissors and instructed her to remove the yellow pollen stamens from all the lilies. The tricky work needed concentration, so, before long, her tears dried up and the girl worked with a will, her tongue sticking out.

Louise sat down with relief to lunch with her husband, a yellow smudge on her cheek, her quickly-made braid unraveling and a general air of dishevelment.

“You may frown,” she said to Gareth, who had drawn his brows together when he saw her, “when you’ve been closeted quietly in the library all morning!”

“I wasn’t frowning,” he responded. “I was just wondering why you have yellow paint on your face. And I may have been closeted, but I’ve made my contribution to the proceedings by tasting every one of the wines Lisle plans on serving this evening. His confidence has been undermined by the Chambertin fiasco at our wedding breakfast. It was vital work!”

They did not linger long at lunch because Louise knew the table was to be removed to make the way open into the garden.

“Good Lord!” said her husband, “I’m glad we don’t have to get married and hold a wedding Ball more than once. It’s a plague, with all the furniture being carried in and out like dead bodies! Neither the house nor I may ever recover!”

“You don’t seem to have a very favorable notion of marriage in general,” replied Louise with a laugh. “That’s the second time you’ve compared it to a disease!”

“Yes,” his craggy cheeks broke into a smile. “But one I’m finding has some unexpectedly pleasant side effects.”

Louise’s cheeks flamed. To cool them, she stepped out into the garden. The wind had died down and it was lovely. Proud to show off their abilities, the gardeners had perfected every inch. There were shady spots with welcoming chairs and flower beds in full bloom around each bend in the smoothed path. The fountain was playing musically in the sunlight, the arbor bench had been decorated with pretty cushions, courtesy of Mrs. Smith, and colorful paper lanterns hung from every available branch. She clapped her hands and called to her husband to come and see.

“Look what wonderful work the men have done, Gareth,” she said. “It’s a perfect spot for you to recover from the ills of marriage!”

Though mystified by her words, the gardeners were more than gratified by the compliment. The Earl smiled, put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Lovely,” he said. He seemed about to say more, but then stopped. “But you are busy. We can talk later.”