Mistress Of Madderlea

‘A dragon.’

‘Certainly not. In fact, she is a sympathetic sort and will stand well in loco parentis. I believe she might be a little short-sighted, for she uses a quizzing glass all the time, but that is of no account. I am sure you will like her; she impressed me very much with her sensibility and knowledge of what is right and proper.’

This description hardly filled the girls with rapture, but it could not have been easy for him, a country gentleman not used to the haute monde. They were going to London for the Season and that was all that mattered.

‘Now, Sophie, you will have a care, will you not?’ he had said the day before, when they were in the throes of last-minute packing. ‘There will be unscrupulous men about and I do not want you to be gulled. Be guided by Lady Fitzpatrick and, whatever you do, do not commit yourself to anyone until I have seen and approved him. You do understand?’

‘Of course, Uncle.’

‘And the same goes for you, my love,’ he told his daughter. ‘And though you will not be the object of fortune hunters, you are a lovely girl and perhaps susceptible to flattery…’

‘Oh, Papa, I am not such a ninny. Besides, I am going to enjoy myself, not look for a husband. The man I want is in Upper Corbury.’

He had laughed at that and said no more, though Aunt Madeleine, tearfully coming out to the carriage to wave goodbye to them, had reinforced everything he had said and more, extracting a promise from them that they would write every other day.

‘Oh, this is so exciting,’ Charlotte said, when they stopped for their first change of horses. Anne, who was a bad traveller, had curled herself up in the corner and gone to sleep. The girls allowed her to slumber on; it was easier to exchange confidences without eavesdroppers, however unintentional. ‘What time will we arrive, do you think?’

‘With luck, before it becomes dark,’ Sophie said.

‘I do hope Lady Fitzpatrick is not a dragon. I mean to enjoy myself, meeting all the eligibles. It will not hurt Freddie to think he has some competition.’

Sophie envied her cousin her untroubled mind. ‘You may look forward to it, Charlie, but I am not so sanguine.’

‘Why not? You are rich as Croesus. Think of all the splendid gowns you will be able to buy, the pelisses, riding habits, bonnets and silk shawls. A new dress and a new bonnet for every occasion. And you will have all the young men dangling after you. In your shoes, I would be in ecstasies.’

‘I wish you could be in my shoes, Cousin, dear, for I would willingly trade places.’

‘You surely do not mean that.’

‘I do. Then I could choose a husband without him knowing who I am.’

‘And afterwards? He would have to know in the end.’

‘Yes, but by then we should have discovered we suited and he would not mind.’

‘No, I do not suppose he would, considering he had landed an heiress and not the simple country girl he thought he had won. Oh, Sophie, if you go about with that Friday face, you will surely put them all off.’

Sophie laughed, her greeny-grey eyes danced with light and her face lit up with mischief. ‘I must not do that, must I?’

‘Certainly you must not, if you wish to catch that paragon you told me of.’

They talked on as the coach rattled through the countryside, which gradually became more and more inhabited as one village followed another in quick succession. Then they were travelling on cobbles and there were buildings each side of the street, houses and inns and shops, and the streets were crowded with vehicles and people, in spite of the lateness of the hour. They leaned forward eagerly to look about them when they realised they had arrived in the metropolis. Sophie had seen some of it briefly on her way from Europe to Madderlea, but to Charlotte it was new and wonderful.

Fifteen minutes later they turned into Holles Street and the carriage drew to a stop. The girls, peering out, saw a tall narrow house with evenly spaced windows and steps up to the front door, which was thrown open when Joseph lifted the knocker and let it fall with a resounding clang. A footman and a young lad ran down the steps to the carriage and began unloading their luggage, while the girls extricated themselves and made their way, in some trepidation, up the steps and into the front hall, followed by Anne, still half asleep.

‘Ladies, ladies, welcome. Come in. Come in. Is that your maid? Tell her to follow the footman, he will show her your rooms. She can unpack while you take some refreshment. I do hope the journey has not tired you excessively.’

The rush of words ended as suddenly as they had begun and the girls found themselves staring at a dumpy little woman in a mauve satin gown and a black lace cap, who was peering at them through a quizzing glass. Her eyes, small and dark, were almost lost in a face that was as round and rosy as an apple.

‘Good evening, Lady Fitzpatrick.’ Sophie was the first to speak. ‘We—’

‘No, don’t tell me, let me guess,’ their hostess said, lifting her glass closer to her eyes and subjecting them to individual scrutiny. They were dressed similarly in plain travelling dresses and short capes, though Sophie’s was a dark russet, which heightened the red-gold of her hair, and Charlotte’s was rose-pink. Sophie’s bonnet was dark green straw, trimmed with matching velvet ribbon, and Charlotte’s was a chip bonnet, ruched in pale blue silk.

Her close inspection completed, her ladyship pointed her lorgnette at Charlotte, who was standing silently trying not to laugh. ‘You are Miss Roswell. I can tell breeding a mile off.’ She turned to Sophie. ‘And you are the country cousin.’

Charlotte was too busy trying to smother her giggles to contradict her. Sophie dug her sharply in the ribs with her elbow and smiled at their hostess. ‘Why, how clever of you, my lady. I did not think it so obvious.’

‘Sophie!’ breathed Charlotte in alarm, but Sophie ignored her and smiled at Lady Fitzpatrick.

‘I can see that no one could gull you, my lady. Not that we should try, of course. I am, indeed, Miss Hundon.’

Her ladyship leaned towards her, cupping a hand round her ear. ‘You must learn to speak clearly, child, it is no good mumbling. I am sure Miss Roswell does not mumble.’

Sophie realised that, besides having poor eyesight, Lady Fitzpatrick was also hard of hearing. Had Uncle William known that?

‘Charlotte, for goodness’ sake, don’t stand there giggling,’ she murmured. ‘Say something.’

‘What can I say? Oh dear, Sophie, what have you done? You have landed us in a bumblebath and no mistake.’

‘Bath,’ said Lady Fitzpatrick. ‘Of course, you may have a bath. I will order the water to be taken up to your rooms. But first, some refreshment.’ She led the way into the drawing room, where a parlour maid had just arrived with a tea tray which she put on a low table beside a sofa. ‘Now, Sophie, you sit here beside me and Charlotte can sit in the armchair opposite.’

Charlotte obeyed and then gasped when her ladyship looked askance at her. ‘I meant you to sit beside me, my dear, but it is of no real consequence.’

Sophie relinquished her seat and motioned Charlotte to take it. ‘My lady, you have misunderstood,’ she said, speaking very precisely. ‘I am Sophie. This is Charlotte.’

‘Oh, I see. You know, Mr Hundon spoke very quickly and I did not always catch exactly what he said. So Miss Roswell is Charlotte and Miss Hundon is Sophie, not the other way about. No wonder you were amused.’

‘But…’ Charlotte spluttered and then dissolved into the giggles she had been trying so hard to suppress and Sophie found herself laughing. It was the first time for two years that she had really done more than smile a little, and it felt wonderful.

Lady Fitzpatrick, mistaking the cause of their laughter, allowed herself a rueful smile. ‘I have it right now, do I not?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Sophie said, accepting a cup of tea and sipping it. She knew Charlotte was staring askance at her, but refused to look her in the eye.

‘Sophie, whatever are we going to do?’ Charlotte, unable to sleep, had padded along to Sophie’s room in her nightdress. ‘We cannot possibly keep up the pretence.’

‘Why not? Lady Fitzpatrick’s mistake is fortuitous and it would be a shame to disillusion her. You said you would like to be in my shoes, so now you may.’

‘But, Sophie, Anne and Luke know which of us is which…’

‘Oh, I told Anne when she queried why you had been given the best room. I promised her five guineas and assured her she would not be in trouble over it.

‘Five guineas! Why, that is a small fortune to her!’

‘It would not serve to be miserly. As for Luke, he thought it was a great lark, when I offered him the same inducement.’

‘Sophie, I cannot do it, really I can’t. I shall die of mortification when we have to go out and about and meet people.’

Sophie thrust her conscience firmly into the background. Fate had taken a hand in the matter and made Lady Fitzpatrick make that mistake. It could not and should not be ignored. ‘No one knows us in town and you will manage wonderfully. Wouldn’t you like to play the heiress for a few weeks? It will flush out the fortune hunters and we can have a little fun at their expense. And, who knows, I might even meet that paragon.’