Page 29 of The Gentlewoman Companion (The Gentlewoman #4)
Chapter Thirteen
L ouisa opened her journal and took a moment to inhale the combining scents of warm leather, sweet paper, and bitter ink.
Her fingers caressed a page embossed with her own thoughts as well as the ideas others had shared with her.
Listed at the back of the book were concepts that often ran through her mind, begging for comprehension or application.
Benjamin Franklin: “Without continual growth and progress, such words as improvement, achievement, and success have no meaning.”
Nellie: “You keep all the good you make.”
Lady Halverton: “It will fester if not aired.”
Mary Astell, summarized: Women are rational, thinking, and intelligent. Without education, women can improve neither themselves nor their situations.
She picked up a quill and dipped it in the inkwell, recording a thought she had not had time to express earlier.
Favorite theme from “The Wife of Bath’s Tale”: When women are granted autonomy, they are free to make choices that improve things for everyone, not just themselves.
Among these words, she sensed an elusive but overarching theme that was particularly relevant to her. If she could weave them together, she might find a truth to guide herself and her future away from the burden of her Great Misjudgment.
The scattered thoughts she’d written drove her to question who she was and who she wanted to become. Was she progressing? Was she “making good?” Did she believe she was intelligent and rational, capable of making worthy decisions? How much independence did she really have?
She had chosen to learn. She’d chosen to stay with Lady Halverton.
She had chosen to set aside painful events of the past from her mind, but the reminder that she was capable of Great Misjudgment remained with her in the bit of charred silk tucked into the locket brooch next to her mother’s hair.
Surely that was enough to keep it from festering.
In preparation for a salon, she and Lady Halverton would attend in a few days, she turned her attention to a tract by Madame Olympe de Gouges, who was French and more contemporary than Miss Mary Astell.
Both women championed the cause of women’s equality but approached the subject from different angles.
Where Miss Astell’s arguments centered on morality and religion, Madame de Gouges advocated for political rights and social justice.
A knock sounded, and Nellie entered. “Lady Halverton’s toilette is complete, and she is waiting downstairs.”
At last night’s dinner, Lady Halverton was told by a friend to visit a perfumer in Haymarket for the “essentials.” Later, when Louisa had asked Lady Halverton what these essentials were, her lady had laughed and admitted she didn’t know but would be delighted to find out.
Nellie approached Louisa and twisted a curl into place. “You look well. Happy, even.”
“I suppose London suits me.” In reality, Louisa felt more content than she had since alluding to the Great Misjudgment to Ja—to Lord Halverton.
The time spent traveling together seemed to have smoothed things between them.
He had not referred to their earlier conversation, which made her feel they were still friends.
Whether he had forgiven her for ignoring him over the past few days or what he imagined she had done, she refused to consider.
So long as neither discussed it, she felt safe, if a little mournful over something lost between them.
Despite the moment of understanding they had shared, his hand over hers, she sensed a coolness between them, as if separated by a window through which they could see and hear but no longer breathe the same air.
Nellie adjusted Louisa’s fichu. “I am glad to hear that, love.”
“And? Have you seen Campbell lately?”
Louisa listened to Nellie describe the way he’d found her cleaning and polishing muddied boots that morning. “He helped me, despite needing to attend to his own responsibilities. That’s a good man.”
“I hear church bells!”
“None of your nonsense.”
Louisa descended the stairs and found Lady Halverton in one of her newest gowns.
“My lady, that shade of green suits you. Your eyes are almost green!”
Lady Halverton swayed, swishing her skirt. “It is a favorite color of mine. Are you ready for London?”
“I could not be more so.”
“It looks like rain. Pity—I was looking forward to walking. Campbell, please ask that the carriage be brought around.”
Soon they were tucked comfortably into their carriage.
As they rolled through town, Louisa’s nose attached itself to the carriage window.
Pedestrians huddled beneath dark cloaks, slogging through mud and over puddles, avoiding horses and carriages.
Fine houses occupied narrow lots while partially built townhomes or piles of building supplies filled others.
“Out my window that way is Buckingham Palace,” Lady Halverton said.
Louisa leaned over to see, but only the park was visible.
Enamored by the city, Louisa listened intently to Lady Halverton as she spoke almost without ceasing, naming this or that, which was new or had been there forever.
“Imagine this city built of timber instead of the brick and stone we see now. Of course, the rebuild from the great fire finished before I was born, but London’s expansion continues.
It is all so changed from only ten years since I was last here.
So many fine houses and shops. So many people!
” On Piccadilly, they slowed to a crawl.
Carriages and pedestrians converged from surrounding roads to crowd an area made worse by construction.
At last, the carriage stopped in front of a building embellished with the words Lewis Hendrie Perfumer. The window displayed cut glass bottles, lotions, soaps, and powders. Lady Halverton looked at Louisa, and they both grinned.
The shop’s interior, equally crowded by men and women, opened to a towering expanse of shelves and tables piled high with every conceivable object necessary—or not—for one’s toilette. Most items were recognizable, but others required some imagination.
A young gentleman dressed in black emerged from behind a pile of hair powder. Pale-eyed, with unruly blond curls, he dressed with unassuming care, smiled a lot, and held himself with careless grace.
“Lady Halverton?” the man said.
“Hugh? Mr. Morden? How delightful to find you in London!” Lady Halverton opened her arms to the young man, who hesitated at the sight of her enthusiastic greeting.
Lady Halverton took him by the hands. “It must be four years at least since you visited Lundbrooke. Look at you! A dashing man, yet I still remember you darting through the house with muddied boots and leaves in your hair. How long have you been home?”
“Only a few weeks. Is James in town? I returned in a hurry and haven’t had time to write. He must think me ill-mannered or lost in the Alps.”
“We arrived with him only a few days ago. But why the rushed return to England? Is anything amiss?”
Mr. Morden fingered a mourning band. “Not at all. That is, I suppose, yes. A distant relative of mine died, which is regrettable; but it seems I unwittingly charmed him when I was but six years old. He left me his property, so I’ve returned.”
Mr. Morden’s eyes fell to Louisa. “Pardon me,” the countess said.
“I was so surprised at seeing you, I forgot my manners.” She turned to Louisa.
“This young man came to Lundbrooke on too many school holidays to count. Mr. Morden, allow me to introduce Miss Louisa Thorpe, my dear friend. Mr. Morden is James’s?—”
“Brother in all but name. We met at school, then travelled a great deal together.”
Louisa curtsied. “Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Morden. I am sorry about your relative, especially as your mourning will prevent us from seeing you at balls and parties.”
He fingered the mourning band. “My great uncle had no close family; I’ll not offend anyone if I discard my mourning early. I am planning to fully engage once Parliament convenes.”
Lady Halverton nodded in understanding. “You must dine with us this evening.”
“Thank you. James will be pleased to know I am still living. Delighted to meet you, Miss Thorpe. Hmm, Thorpe…a familiar name but I can’t think why. No matter. Until this evening.”
Louisa watched him smile and tip his hat to anyone who caught his eye as he made his way out the door.
Mr. Morden’s sudden appearance interested her; when Lord Halverton had interacted with his neighborhood acquaintances at the card party, he had seemed somewhat distant and unfamiliar.
It should be amusing to watch Lord Halverton interact with a close friend.
“Mr. Morden is very different from Lord Halverton,” Louisa said. “They’ve known one another since school?”
“Yes, Mr. Morden made a perfect companion for James. Hugh is a second son and not encumbered with the idea that he must obtain all knowledge to become a competent earl. I am very pleased Hugh has acquired an estate.”
They returned to the task at hand. And with what satisfaction did Louisa help Lady Halverton exhaust the contents of the perfumery!
They debated the merits of creams, tinctures, perfumes, powders, patches, and soaps until Lady Halverton’s purchase pile was large enough to require two crates.
By the time they made their way to the carriage, seven varieties of powder streaked across Louisa’s arm, and the two women smelled like a still room.
“As soon as we’ve attended a few ourselves, we will hold a salon.” Lady Halverton pulled out a fan and waved it aggressively. “I wish these windows opened. But we have an invitation to Lady Montparnasse and Mrs. Blake’s next week.”
“Will it be so different from the literary breakfasts?”
“Vastly. We are in London with access to the most learned and intelligent society. Lady Montparnasse wrote me a list of her attendees. Louisa! I almost fail to comprehend a room replete with so many of England’s renowned.”