The Swan Maid. Dilly CourtЧитать онлайн книгу.
to spend the rest of my life working from dawn to dusk for a pittance.’
‘Maybe you’re right. I suppose joining the army would be a way out. It can’t be worse than this. Anyway, Trotter was telling me that the railways will put an end to mail coaches, and it’s already happening.’
‘You don’t have to be a soldier in order to get away from here. You could become an engine driver or a guard on the railway. You could do anything you set your mind to,’ Lottie said thoughtfully. ‘Anyway, you’d best fetch her ladyship’s things. Lieutenant Gillingham ordered the carriage for half-past six, so it should be here soon.’
Jem gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself, Lottie. I’ll miss you, girl.’
‘I’ll miss you too.’ Lottie watched him as he loped off to take the outside stairs two at a time. She was sorry to leave Jem, who had been her true friend, but her spirit of adventure had been awakened and she was eager for new experiences. She waited, clutching the small valise that contained Lady Aurelia’s valuables, and it occurred to her suddenly that she ought to inform Uncle Sefton of her change in circumstances. It would be several months until she attained her majority, and he was still her guardian, even though she had not had any contact with him since starting work at The Swan. She was still thinking about it when Lady Aurelia appeared on the balcony, with Jem close behind staggering beneath the weight of her various valises and carpet- bags.
Lottie’s stomach churned with excitement as she heard the sound of approaching horses’ hoofs and the hired carriage was driven into the stable yard and came to a halt. Gillingham strolled out of the taproom and tossed a coin to Jem as he hefted the luggage into the growler.
‘Good grief,’ Aurelia said, laughing. ‘I thought I was travelling lighter than this. I’m afraid you’ll have to sit on the box with the driver, Farrell.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, my lady. I intend to ride and I’ve hired a hack for the purpose.’
‘I would prefer to ride also but, as you see, I am not dressed for it.’ Aurelia glanced down at her elegant travelling outfit. ‘At least when I’m abroad I can get away with conduct that would be considered unseemly at home.’ She turned to Lottie with a mischievous chuckle. ‘Are you sure you want to be connected to a woman who breaks all the rules?’
‘More than ever, my lady,’ Lottie said firmly. ‘I want to be just like you.’
‘D’you hear that, Farrell? I have a staunch ally at last. Poor Merriweather was forever telling me that my actions were not those of a lady, and now I have carte blanche to do exactly as I please.’
Farrell helped Jem to place the trunk on end beside the driver. ‘I doubt if the colonel will approve, my lady.’
‘Dashwood adores me, as you very well know. He supports me in all that I do.’ Aurelia allowed Jem to hand her into the carriage. ‘Come along, Lottie. We’ve thirty or forty miles to go before we’re in Chatham, and by the looks of that clear sky it’s going to be another hot day.’ She settled herself in the corner. ‘You may sit beside me. I don’t expect you to perch on the roof or run behind.’
Lottie climbed in and made herself as small as possible, not wanting to cramp her mistress or to crease the voluminous skirts of Aurelia’s pale green poplin de laine gown. ‘I learn quickly, my lady, but this is all very new to me.’
‘Of course it is,’ Aurelia agreed, smiling. ‘You have had an extraordinary life for one so young, and I promise you it will be anything less than ordinary from now on.’ Aurelia closed her eyes. ‘I am going to have a nap. Wake me when we stop to change horses.’ Her perky straw hat slipped over one eye as she leaned back against the squabs.
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived outside the house in Chatham. Set in a large garden, surrounded by trees, with well-kept lawns and neat flowerbeds, the three-storey building looked comfortable and solid. The white stucco gleamed in the afternoon sunshine and pink roses clambered over the stone portico. A maidservant rushed out, followed by a man wearing a leather apron, who hefted the trunk from the driver’s seat as if it were filled with feathers instead of the weighty contents of Lady Aurelia’s clothes press.
Farrell had ridden alongside them for most of the way, but had gone on ahead when they neared their destination, and was waiting to hand Aurelia from the carriage. Lottie was the first to alight and she stood on the path feeling shy and apprehensive. It was too late to change her mind, but she felt shabby and out of place in her new surroundings. The housemaid fixed her with a curious stare, but neither of them spoke.
Aurelia sailed into the house, leaving Lottie little alternative but to follow in her wake.
The interior was spacious, and cool air wafted in through open windows, adding the scent of roses to that of lavender and beeswax polish. The stark whiteness of the walls was relieved by large oil paintings, mostly scenes of victorious military battles, and a cocked hat had been left on a pier table as if to emphasise the fact that this was a soldier’s residence. Aurelia took off her straw bonnet and tossed it in the air so that it landed on a marble bust of the Iron Duke.
Her merry laughter seemed to bring the silent house to life. ‘A direct hit, every time.’ She turned to Gillingham. ‘I’ll wager you couldn’t do as well, Farrell.’
He tucked his shako under his arm. ‘I’m sure you’re right, my lady.’
‘Don’t be a spoilsport.’ Aurelia snatched the hat from the duke, where it had hung over his sightless eyes at a rakish angle, and she placed it on Gillingham’s head. ‘Give me a smile, Farrell.’ She seized his shako and put it on. ‘How do I look?’
‘Dashing, as always, my lady.’
‘Lottie, remind me to order a shako from my milliner.’ Aurelia peered at her reflection in one of the many gilt-framed mirrors. ‘It is rather fetching.’
Lottie stood beside the housemaid, watching this piece of theatre wide-eyed. She had not imagined that titled ladies behaved with such frivolity, and there seemed to be little difference between Ruth’s flirtatious behaviour and that of the colonel’s wife. She glanced at the maid, expecting to see her looking shocked or at least a bit surprised by her mistress’s antics, but she appeared to be unmoved and was staring straight ahead.
‘Is it always like this?’ Lottie whispered.
‘This is nothing. Wait until they have a party, then you’ll see some goings-on.’ The maid jumped to attention at the sound of her name.
‘Tilda.’ Aurelia snapped her fingers. ‘Stop gossiping and bring tea and cake to the drawing room. By the way,’ she added casually, ‘Merriweather is unwell and will be staying in Bath for the foreseeable future. Miss Lane is my new maid.’
Tilda bobbed a curtsey. ‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Is the master at home?’ Aurelia demanded im-periously. ‘He should have been here to greet me.’
‘I believe he’s with Lady Petunia, my lady.’ Tilda curtseyed again before hurrying off.
‘If I didn’t know better I would be jealous of Lady Petunia.’ Aurelia posed in front of the mirror, making a moue at her reflection as she tilted the shako at various angles.
Gillingham crossed the floor to stand behind her. ‘You know, you do look splendid. In my hat.’ He tweaked it off her head. ‘But it’s a trifle too large for you, my lady.’
‘Spoilsport.’ She turned to face him. ‘Come and have some tea, Farrell, and stop calling me “my lady”. Lottie is one of us now. She won’t gossip if you call me Aurelia.’ She shot a sideways glance at Lottie. ‘You won’t, will you? I’m sure I can trust you to be discreet.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Lottie followed Tilda’s example and curtseyed. ‘I mean, no. I won’t gossip. I saw things you wouldn’t credit when I was at The Swan.’
‘I’m sure