Page 21 of The Gentlewoman Companion (The Gentlewoman #4)
Chapter Nine
A little brown bird sprang from a tree branch and lit on a neighboring bough, its screeching song adding to the impatience itching Louisa’s fingers.
She wanted the leads in her hands, driving Ranunculus, but Miss Cron insisted on reviewing the entire process of hitching the donkey to the carriage as they rode along the lane.
“Please, pay attention,” Miss Cron said with a long-suffering sigh. She was a confident teacher but persnickety.
“I will never remember precisely where to place the chest strap?—”
“Over the point of the shoulder, not the windpipe.”
“—or what a cropper is or where the trace carrier lies.”
Miss Cron pointed out the mysterious parts of the tack with the whip. “You may not always have a groom to do it for you, Miss Thorpe.”
If Louisa could not afford a groom, she would never keep a donkey—or a horse.
“I am sure with repetition, I will learn. Shall we take the carriage to Manydown? Perhaps Miss Trelawney would like to join us.” Though Miss Trelawney did not seem to wholly approve of Louisa, she believed the two of them would get on well if given the chance.
“May I take the reins, please, Miss Cron?”
“Certainly. Let me show you how to drive with one hand.” She wove the leather straps between Louisa’s fingers. “Place your right hand over, like this. Now, simply twist your wrist to guide the donkey right or left. I find that holding the?—”
“Trot!” Louisa was thrown against the back of the carriage.
Little Ranunculus’ trot was more like a canter.
“Well done!” They hit a bump, and Louisa flew a few inches off her seat.
Laughing, she glanced at Miss Cron to share the thrill but found her companion scowling and clutching the bench. An excessive response.
Perhaps she should not be so bothered by Miss Cron’s lack of adventure, but Louisa could not help it.
She was frustrated, but not with Miss Cron—rather, with Lord Halverton.
Over the last few days, he’d been scowling at everything and everyone.
It unsettled her. Before, he had sometimes declined to visit with her and his mother, excusing himself over his incredibly important responsibilities.
Recently, he’d accepted every request for his company and even invited himself on their little expeditions.
Why he wished to spoil her fun, she could not imagine.
“Careful!” Louisa said to Ranunculus, slowing her before Miss Cron could seize the reins. Louisa took care around the bends, though she felt quite equal to a good canter.
They arrived at Manydown, waited until Miss Trelawney’s horse was ready, then the three ladies ambled along a well-tended gravel lane enclosed by high hedges. Louisa battled within herself, wondering what topic to introduce that might capture Miss Trelawney’s interest or inspire her admiration.
“Miss Trelawney, how is your father?” Louisa asked. “I had hoped to meet him at the card party.”
“He is not well. Thank you for your concern.” Her tone was cool.
According to Lady Halverton, there was little hope Mr. Trelawney would recover. Louisa knew the helpless anxiety of watching a parent fade. “I am very sorry to hear it.”
Miss Trelawney glanced at Louisa, interested. The sincerity in Louisa’s voice must have drawn her attention.
“Thank you.” She kept herself erect, staring into the distance. “He’s been ill so long, I hardly remember him well.”
“I am familiar with that difficulty, as mother suffered an extended sickness. Should you ever wish to discuss it…” Louisa hoped Miss Trelawney understood this as an offer to lend a listening ear to one who understood better than most.
“Lady Halverton is generous to allow time for you to amuse yourself,” Miss Trelawney said.
Louisa nodded, happy to talk about her mistress. “We spend mornings in rigorous study. She has me reading all sorts of philosophy and literature. When we finish, she demands I go outside, saying that exercise is the only way to solidify learning.”
Miss Cron asked, “Tell us, how came you to be Lady Halverton’s companion?”
A sharp pang flashed inside Louisa. How could she answer that?
Thus far, Lady Halverton had quelled any unkindness Louisa had received for her accent or for retaining the lowly position of a companion.
Lady Halverton also seemed to mistake Louisa for a heroine who had acted bravely against her father.
Perhaps, then, the same half-truth Louisa had shared with Lady Halverton was the correct response.
Although, at the literary breakfast, Miss Trelawney’s mother had not approved of Lady Halverton’s theoretical story of a young lady defying her parents.
How to begin the tale and what to leave out?
The donkey cart sat far below the level of a lady on horseback, requiring Louisa to strain to look up at Miss Trelawney, who wore a brilliant ruby riding habit with gold buttons down the front, reminiscent of a military jacket.
It seemed incredibly fashionable. “She rescued me when my father wished to choose my husband.”
“Lady Halverton really is the best sort of person,” Miss Cron said.
“You went against the wishes of your father?” Miss Trelawney asked.
Louisa lifted her chin. “I did.”
Miss Cron turned toward Louisa. “May I ask what happened?”
Louisa could not think clearly and drive Ranunculus all at once. “Take these.” She handed the lines to Miss Cron. “There is very little to tell.”
“How did you meet Lady Halverton? Are you related?” Miss Trelawney asked.
Her heart thumped. She found the ribbon that was pinned to the top of her stomacher and entwined her fingers through it. “Not related, no.”
“Well?” Miss Cron urged.
“I…took my maid and ran away from my family. Lady Halverton and I met quite by accident. When she heard my story, she took me in.”
“My!” Miss Trelawney narrowed her eyes at Louisa, bit her lips together, and turned away.
Louisa’s insides shriveled.
“I approve,” said Miss Cron, setting her jaw at Miss Trelawney’s profile. “Society must learn not to force decisions on their daughters. Sons, too, I imagine.” Miss Cron’s words did little to assuage Louisa’s disappointment.
“Lady Halverton is…unconventional,” Miss Trelawney said. “But everyone loves her. She is the epitome of fashion, an engaging hostess, and maintains relationships with all the most important people, despite never going to town.”
Miss Cron muttered, “And she is extremely rich.”
“The most important people?” Louisa asked.
“Yes! In London everyone is forever asking after her, even some whom she rarely meets, for she corresponds with them all.”
Louisa did spend a lot of time helping the countess reply to letters. She had penned even more correspondence than usual lately in preparation for spending the winter in London.
Miss Trelawney cocked an eyebrow. “I admit to being astonished that she facilitated your departure from your family.”
“Oh! They know I am here. As you said yourself, Lady Halverton is an exemplary woman, and my father agreed to her patronage.”
Miss Trelawney looked down her nose and sniffed. “I am sure he finds her benefaction most profitable. I am afraid I have lost track of the hour and must return home. Goodbye.” She turned her horse, leaving them behind.
Louisa’s hands felt heavy in her lap as she watched Miss Trelawney disappear around a bend.
Miss Cron put a gentle hand on Louisa’s arm. “Would you like to take the reins?”
“No. No, thank you.” Her fingers wove into the ribbons that looped her gown.
“I believe Mrs. Trelawney attends the literary breakfasts merely to learn what not to teach her daughter. They are not as open-minded as Lady Halverton. Most are not.”
This did not improve Louisa’s spirits. “I suppose I must resign myself to being a cautionary tale.”
Miss Cron smiled encouragingly. “Or become comfortable with it.”
Louisa sighed. If only matters were that simple.
T he next evening, Louisa fumbled with her mother’s brooch.
“Give it here.” Nellie reached for the pin.
“I’ll do it.” Louisa found a place in the gold-embroidered band wrapping her waist where the pin slipped through.
Swathed in cream silk embroidered with pastel flowers, she turned this way and that, listening to the swish of fabric.
The ensemble was too fine, and the diamond brooch spoke of a wealth that Louisa’s family had not enjoyed for two generations.
They were not poor, especially when compared to their neighbors, but the riches that surrounded her at Lundbrooke, that covered her body, were still foreign.
“I feel like a fraud,” Louisa said. “This robe is far too fine for a country dance.”
“That’s naught but quiddle. Let me tell you, I’ve made that excuse for myself too. Seven years back, your aunt’s maid up and ran off with the butcher—pardon, I didn’t mean…”
The reference sent Louisa’s heart quivering, but she waved off Nellie’s concern.
“I was pulled from the kitchen to replace her because the housekeeper had seen me dressing the younger girls’ hair.
Without any idea of what I was doing, much like yourself a few months back, I entered the mistress’s room, a bluster of false confidence.
Now look at me! I got you looking like a queen. ”
Louisa smiled and clasped Nellie’s hand. “You are the best lady’s maid.”
“I am. And you will do my work justice by enjoying yourself tonight.”
“Some do not think I belong.” Miss Trelawney, for example. “They know that I ran away and disapprove. Or they see me as a lady’s companion who does not know her place.”
“You’ve escaped those who would direct your life without your consent. Don’t cage yourself again to others’ opinions.” Nellie moved off to look through Louisa’s trinkets and jewelry, straightening pieces and fingering others in consideration.