Free The Pleasure Merchant by Molly Tanzer

they were not a somber enough party, they had come home still dripping to find that Sabina Dryden had gone into the kitchens to check on the dinner preparations only to suffer a fainting spell and burn her hand when she overturned a very complicated white sauce Cook had been laboring over. Everyone was upset, out of worry for Sabina, but also because Hallux Dryden was now storming around the house half-dressed, raging at everyone he could find about “vanities” like parties, and white sauces.
    Sabina had not been harmed more than incurring a light redness of the wrist from the hot cream, but that she had gone downstairs at all seemed to enrage Hallux, and he was in a devil of a mood. As he told everyone that day, while it was seemly for women to take an interest in household affairs, Sabina was delicate, and prone to fainting in hot environs like a kitchen, where she would be overwhelmed with scents and motion. Sabina tried to laugh off his concern but he then turned his ire on her, ranting at her for so long that she fainted again , and it was discussed whether or not the party should be put off until another evening. But, as it was simply too late to send word to all who were invited, the servants were kept extra-busy attending to any number of things beyond readying the house, preparing the food, and helping the family dress.
    “She wasn’t always like this,” commented Cook, when Tom asked if he should regularly expect this sort of occurrence. “When Mr. Dryden brought her home, she was plenty featherbrained, but she could butter her own bread without cutting herself on the blunt edge of the knife. Gave him a bit of his own back, too, every once in a while. Now…” Cook clucked her tongue. “Never met a young woman more useless.”
    “I’m amazed her bottom hasn’t grown into a chair,” opined Kitty, one of the maids. “Might be easier for us if it did—there’d be a lot less fussing if we could just pick her up and move her around into a patch of sunlight, like an orchid. Funny though, I’ve heard she used to ride and play and do all sorts of things, even, whachacall it, archery . Before Mr. Dryden sacked her to hire that damn Frenchwoman, her maid said she could scarce be kept indoors for love of the sunshine, except to play her harp.”
    “Ah, but what use is archery, or harp-playing?” replied Cook. “But, I’ll own she used to be less trouble for us. Even if she just took up riding again, it might be good for her.”
    “Oh, I think she’s kept up with her riding,” said Kitty, with a saucy wink at Tom.
    Tom blushed to hear he wasn’t the only one who’d overheard the couple, and made his excuses before he embarrassed himself.
    Really, it was for the best, as it wasn’t only the female servants kept busy by all the excitement. On top of attending to everything Mr. Bewit needed, Tom was sent out to fetch a pomade from the apothecary to revive Sabina’s strength, and a length of ribbon from the milliners to trim her gloves so that her burned wrist would not be noticed. The weather was still very wet, which meant Tom was very wet by the time he returned, not to mention his boots being covered in the sort of unspeakable substances London produced during a rainstorm. All he wanted was to bathe and go to bed, but as Holland was just as occupied as everyone else, Mr. Bewit commanded Tom to help Hallux Dryden make himself look respectable, as he was still coatless and wigless and stomping about in his stocking feet when Lady Sanburne was announced. Hallux loudly protested this indignity, but in the end he submitted—and when Tom had finished, for once Mr. Bewit’s cousin looked quite the dashing figure… much to his dismay.
    “An ape with a mop on his head,” was his final pronouncement, as he looked at himself in the glass. “You might have a future ahead of you, my boy, at either the circus—or the zoo .”
    “Thank you, sir,” Tom replied automatically, wondering how it was that Hallux