Vixens. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
she finished with a mischievous grin.
Both her cousins burst out laughing, and Cynara said, “Ohh, I can see we are all going to get on very nicely, Fancy Devers.”
Bess arrived. She curtsied. “Yes, mistress? You’ll want to get dressed, I think.” She smiled, and then continued, “Now you two shoo. You can wait in the dayroom for her, and don’t eat her breakfast. She’s going nowhere until she is fed.”
Cynara and Diana departed, and then Bess showed Fancy the small room off her bedchamber that held all of her clothing, both garments that hung and those in cedar-lined chests.
“From the look of those two, you’ll want something easy,” Bess noted. She pulled out a natural-colored linen skirt and a white shirt, exclaiming as she did so, “Why this be a man’s shirt, mistress!”
“I find it more modest to wear it over my chemise with a skirt,” Fancy explained. “The style is that of a man, but you will see the shirt is made to fit me. And the laces are of silk ribbon.”
Bess held the shirt up. “And it is smaller than a man’s. You’ll start a whole new fashion, mistress,” she chuckled.
Fancy washed her face and hands in the basin of warm water that Bess had provided. Then she dressed in her linen skirt and white shirt. She fastened a black leather belt about her narrow waist and slipped her bare feet into a pair of soft black-leather slippers. Her long dark hair she braided into a single thick plait, affixing the end with a bright scarlet ribbon. Then she joined her cousins in her dayroom where Cynara was eyeing her breakfast with an almost predatory look.
“Have you eaten?” Fancy asked her.
Cynara nodded. “But I’m always hungry,” she added. “There wasn’t a great deal of food about when I was small. ’Twas before the king was restored. I can never seem to get filled up.”
“Share my food with me then,” Fancy offered. “I couldn’t possibly eat all that Bess has brought me. Diana?” She looked at the youngest of her cousins.
“Perhaps a bit of apple and some cheese,” Diana murmured.
The three girls made quick work of the tray that Bess had brought. It contained a newly baked cottage loaf, a large wedge of sharp cheddar cheese, a shallow dish with several hard-boiled eggs, and a bowl of apples. There was also a pot of hot fragrant tea. Fancy had grown up drinking this beverage and was not surprised to see it on her tray. When they had finished, Cynara led them on a tour of Queen’s Malvern, for it was her father’s house. Although it would one day belong to her eldest brother, Freddie, she would always consider it home.
When they reached their grandmother’s apartment, they were met by two elderly, wizened little women. Cynara introduced them.
“This is Fortune’s youngest daughter,” she shouted to them, and they smiled, nodded, and bowed to Fancy. “She is called Fancy.” Cynara turned to her cousin. “This is Rohana, and her sister, Toramalli, who have been with Grandmama since her birth.”
“My mother has spoken lovingly of you both to me,” Fancy said.
“Our lady has read to us each letter your mother sent. We know you well, mistress, and are sorry for your troubles,” Toramalli said quietly. “Rohana and I are at your service.” She bowed again as did her twin sister.
Fancy reached out, and taking Toramalli’s hands in hers, pressed them first to her forehead and then to her heart. “Thank you,” she said.
“Aiii, you have been well taught,” Toramalli said in an approving tone. Rohana smiled at Fancy, nodding in favorable agreement with her sibling. “And you do not shout at us as does the duke’s high-flown daughter.”
“But you never seem to hear me if I speak in a normal tone,” Cynara protested volubly, stung by their words.
“We hear what we wish to hear,” Rohana spoke up. “It is a privilege, my lady, of our advanced age,” and then she chuckled at the surprised look on Cynara’s beautiful face. “You think because you are Stuart everyone must pay attention, but it is not so.”
“May we show Fancy Grandmama’s rooms?” Diana said politely.
The sisters nodded in unison and ushered the trio inside.
“These rooms were our great-great-grandmother’s once long ago,” Diana said quietly. “The one we all are said to resemble.”
“My father was born in these rooms,” Cynara said importantly.
“Your father was born in the bed in which your cousin from the Colonies now sleeps,” Toramalli said. “Queen’s Malvern was not our princess’s house at that time. It was her home. Lord Adam and Lady Skye ruled here then. You do not know everything, my lady.”
“But didn’t the king and the queen come to see my papa when he was born?” Cynara ventured.
“They did!” Toramalli confirmed. “King James and Queen Anne were visiting nearby, and they came to see your papa. They were well pleased by him. King James took him from your mother, and after he had held him for a time, Queen Anne took him, scolding her mate that he was not holding the infant properly. Prince Henry, his father, had arranged to have your father inherit Lord de Marisco’s titles as he had no son. The old king said, however, he should be a duke not an earl. Aye! I remember it well. I told my lady that the boy was a true Mughal for the way he howled when he wanted his own way. And a not-quite-royal Stuart, your grandmama replied.” Toramalli laughed with her memories. It was a high reedy sound.
“Rohana and Toramalli have lots of wonderful stories about Grandmama and Uncle Charlie and all the family,” Diana said. “You must get them to tell you, for they know things even your mama did not.”
“There won’t be much time before we go to court,” Cynara said.
“We aren’t going to court until December,” Diana replied. “It is just September. There is more than enough time.”
“Fancy has to have a new wardrobe made,” Cynara said.
“Why?” Fancy asked. “I have brought my entire trousseau with me from Maryland, and the Williamsburg tailors are most up-to-date.”
Cynara shook her head. “Perhaps for Williamsburg, and perhaps here in the country, but not for court. We must be shown to our best advantage at court; after all, we are going husband hunting.”
“Not me!” Fancy said emphatically. “I neither want nor need another husband, thank you.”
“Cousin!” Cynara was shocked. “You are sixteen and next year will be seventeen. If you do not catch another husband soon, you will be way too old for any gentleman.”
“I don’t care,” Fancy said bluntly. “Men cannot be trusted, Cyn. I have learned that from my own bitter experience. If you don’t marry them, you can retain your freedom, and freedom is, I think, more valuable than any husband.”
“Gracious!” Diana exclaimed, both shocked and fascinated by her cousin’s declaration.
“A woman can have her freedom and a man, if she is clever,” Cynara said with a wisdom that was beyond her years.
“Hee hee hee!” cackled Rohana. “Her Mughal blood shows, Sister.”
“If you have come to see your grandmother’s rooms,” Toramalli said sharply, “then look about you, and be on your way.”
The three girls walked slowly through the rooms, which were very familiar to Cynara and Diana. Toramalli showed them the boxes of jewelry that Jasmine possessed, a great and famous collection. Besides necklaces, rings, bracelets, chains, pins, and earbobs, there were also bags of loose stones. Cynara held out her hand and waggled it.
“See my ruby ring? Grandmama had it made for me on my last birthday. She let me choose the stone I would have, and I picked this one. I find the tear an interesting shape. It is a pigeon’s-blood ruby. Its