Free Finessing Clarissa by MC Beaton Page B

carriage dress of dull green velvet trimmed with gold braid. It had epaulettes, all in the latest fashion, and a saucy shako had been bought to go with it. Under Yvette’s supervision, Hubbard pomaded Clarissa’s hair and curled it in such a way that the shako could be worn at a rakish angle and reveal a luxuriant fall of curls on the right-hand side of her head.
    Amy came in to watch the preparations and expressed her approval. ‘What a difference clothes make,’ she said, ‘and Lord Greystone’s generous sum of money will be able to furnish you with many more.’
    ‘I could make a similar dress for you, Miss Amy,’ said Yvette. ‘This style
à la militaire
is very suitable for tall ladies. If one is tall, one must be very
grande dame.
’
    ‘I have many fine clothes, Yvette,’ said Amy, delicately averting her eyes from the dressmaker’s swollen girth. ‘You must rest a great deal now.’
    ‘When is . . . ?’ began Clarissa and then blushed as Hubbard and Amy frowned at her. She had been about to ask when Yvette’s baby was due to arrive but mentioning birth or babies was just as indelicate as mentioning breeches or legs. She did not know that broad-spoken Amy would normally have cheerfully discussed every facet of Yvette’s condition, but Mr Haddon had given her a guilty conscience and she was once more determined to take her job of mentor and chaperone seriously.
    ‘We have not been concentrating on your deportment, Miss Vevian,’ said Amy. ‘You must hold yourself very straight or we will need to put the backboard on you.’
    ‘Yes, it is important to stand straight,’ said Yvette with a sly look at Amy, who had taken to slouching of late in an attempt to bring herself down to Mr Randolph’s size.
    ‘Now, I assume you know the etiquette of driving in a carriage,’ went on Amy, ignoring Yvette. ‘When introduced to people in the Park, you shake hands with your equals if the carriages are close enough, and confine yourself to a common nod if the people are your social inferiors. Do not wait for the gentleman to hand you up. He needs to control the horses. Mount gracefully. Do not discuss politics whatever you do. Some of the most unexpected people are Whigs,’ said Amy, who was a Tory. ‘Do not discuss Napoleon or anything of a military nature. Avoid talking about either religion or the poor. Religion is an inflammatory subject and the poor, a depressing one. You may talk about gowns and fashions and the weather. Above all, do not say anything intelligent. Gentlemen abhor intelligent women. Aim for frailty and weakness of body and mind. It is expected of us.’
    ‘Lord Greystone was good enough to say he appreciated my advice on certain family matters,’ said Clarissa.
    ‘Oh, that is quite suitable. Talk of aunts and cousins and things like that. You can also talk of pets, if you have any. A love of a pug dog shows the correct amount of sensibility, though,’ said Amy with a burst of candour, ‘I cannot abide the wheezing, vomiting, urinating creatures myself.’
    ‘I shall remember what you say,’ said Clarissa with an anxious look at the clock. ‘It lacks only a few minutes to five. Should I not go down and wait in the hall?’
    ‘No. He will not want to leave his cattle standing for very long outside, but a certain maidenly hesitation is called for. You wait here and we will call you.’
    When they had left, Clarissa sat in an agony of anticipation. What if he did not come?
    Then a footman scratched at the door and called, ‘The Earl of Greystone is arrived, miss.’
    Clarissa shot from the room with such energy that she nearly flattened the footman. She ran to the stairs and headlong down them, nearly lost her footing on the last few stairs and clutched desperately on to the banisters.
    Effy rolled her eyes to heaven. The earl turned away and began to talk to Amy, giving Clarissa a chance to compose herself.
    Clarissa was very subdued as she sat beside him in his carriage. Why