Free Fenella Miller by A Dissembler Page B

Arabella will wish to accompany us again.’
    ‘I can’t tomorrow, cousin; I believe the seamstress is coming with some of my new gowns. I must be there to try them on.’
    ‘Of course you must. In that case I will call for you in my phaeton at three o’clock.’
    ‘Phaeton?’ She repeated faintly. ‘But is that not one of those horrid contraptions that tip and bounce and threaten to evict the passengers at every turn?’
    ‘Not in my hands. I am a noted whip. I have never had an upset yet, not even on my last race from Piccadilly to Brighton.’
    ‘It is reassuring to know I am to be driven out by someone who races a phaeton through the streets of London on a regular basis.’
    He laughed out loud. ‘If you promise to behave I might even allow you to take the ribbons.’
    She smiled. ‘Then your carriage will become a dangerous vehicle indeed, for I am a complete novice. I have only driven a pony and trap, and not even that very often.’
    Talking companionably, like old friends, not recent acquaintances, they left the library and walked slowly along the sunny passageways to the substantial entrance hall. Emily was waiting there, alone.
    ‘Oh, there you are, I was becoming most anxious, Sir Theodore. Arabella has gone home. She was quite restored, apart from feeling a rifle nauseous, and wished to return.’
    Relieved she would not have to see Arabella again that morning Marianne rushed forward and embraced Emily warmly. ‘I am sorry we parted on bad terms. I beg your pardon. I should not have spoken so about your dearest friend.’
    Emily looked perplexed. ‘I have quite forgotten what we quarrelled about. I am not one to get in a dudgeon about anything, as you know.’
    Theo interrupted. ‘I have asked for the horses to be brought round. Are you ready to depart?’ The girls nodded and followed his tall figure down the steps.
    * * * *
    After a late breakfast, her appetite having returned, Marianne retreated to the library to read in peace until it was time to change for dinner. Her borrowed gown was now repaired and ready to be worn that evening. A hesitant tap on the door, much later, disturbed her concentration. Impatiently she asked the intruder to come in.
    Emily peered nervously around the door. ‘Marianne, Mrs Dawkins is here. Is it not exciting? She says she took on several new girls in order to complete the work and they have come a day early. Mama has asked us to go upstairs for a fitting.’
    ‘Wonderful. Have you seen any of them yet, Emily?’
    ‘No, they are all packed away in boxes.’ Emily smiled, her hazel eyes sparkling with anticipation. ‘But there was a mountain of them. She must have completed a great many of the gowns.’
    They ran upstairs eager to see what Mrs Dawkins had brought. Marianne was especially curious as she had left the choice of her gowns to another. For some reason she wished to be all the crack and the thought of the plain, dull gowns awaiting her inspection, gave her a decidedly lowering feeling.
    She left Emily at her parlour door and hurried on, down the long passageways, round the corner to arrive breathless outside her own apartment. She burst in and found, to her surprise, that Mrs Dawkins had come to fit her, and not attend on Lady Grierson. The seamstress was standing, birdlike, by the open boxes, her face alight.
    ‘Good afternoon, Miss Devenish. I have the majority of your order completed. There are two more evening dresses, your ball gown, and a habit to come, but the remainder of the gowns and undergarments are here.’ She waved her hands theatrically over the foamy tissue but did not lift one up for inspection.
    ‘If you would like to go through to your chamber your dresser is waiting. I will bring the gowns to you one at a time. Where would you like to start?’
    Marianne had no hesitation. ‘I would like to start with morning, then afternoon, then riding habits, and finally the evening gown ‘
    ‘Exactly as I would have suggested, Miss