An Improper Companion. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘Oh, no, my dear. My maid will help me dress—but perhaps you will play for us this evening? I believe your mama told me that you play the pianoforte. Cavendish bought a rather fine instrument quite recently. I do not play much myself these days, but I should enjoy listening to you.’
‘I find it a pleasant pastime,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I do not know if you will find me competent, but I shall do my best.’
‘Oh, I am sure you will,’ Lady Isadora said with a vague smile. ‘I remember that Serena had a fine singing voice—do you sing, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, sometimes, though not of late.’
‘Well, you shall play for us this evening, and perhaps sing another time,’ Lady Isadora said, and on that note they parted, each to their own bedchamber to dress for dinner.
Alone in her room, Elizabeth took stock of her surroundings, knowing it would not take her more than an hour to dress. It was such a comfortable room, with everything that she could want, including an attractive writing desk and chair by the window where she might compose her letters, a stool, wing chair and several small tables and chests, also an impressive armoire for her clothes.
She had two good evening dresses, one of a pale, pearly grey silk, the other a dark blue heavy grosgrain, which she had worn only a few times. It was some time since she had purchased a gown for the evenings, and she had left her older ones behind, believing that two would be sufficient. She went over to the large armoire, thinking that her wardrobe would be lost in its vastness, but when she opened it, she stared in surprise—there were several gowns hanging there that she had never seen before. She took a pretty yellow silk evening gown out to look at it, and was holding it in front of herself to admire it when the door opened and Amy entered.
‘Oh, yes, miss that would suit you well,’ Amy said. ‘I noticed that it was a little long when I put your things away earlier, but it would take no time at all to make a temporary hem and I could do it properly tomorrow.’
‘But I have never seen this gown before,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘It does not belong to me.’
‘Her ladyship told me that she had taken the liberty of buying you one or two things as a welcome gift,’ the girl said with a smile. ‘She said that she wasn’t quite sure of your size, but had ordered them long enough so that we might alter them to fit when you arrived.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Elizabeth had expected that she would be able to choose her own clothes when she was offered a dress allowance. She was not yet ready to wear such bright colours, though there was no denying that the yellow silk was of good quality and in perfect taste. ‘Thank you for explaining, Amy. I don’t think I shall wear this yet—perhaps in a few weeks when I put off my mourning. I shall wear my own grey gown, thank you.’
‘And very elegant it is too, miss,’ Amy said approvingly as she took it out—she liked its simple cut, which she knew would look well on Elizabeth. ‘Would you like me to dress your hair? I could style it a little differently, if you wished.’
‘That is very kind of you,’ Elizabeth said, ‘but I think I will not make a change just yet—perhaps another time.’
‘Yes, Miss Travers.’ Amy made no further comment, though in her opinion the young lady could make more of her best features than she did.
Dressed in the pearl grey gown, Elizabeth fastened a small choker of pearls at her throat. They had been her mother’s gift to her on her last birthday, and she knew they had been her father’s wedding present to his bride. She touched them with her fingers—it made her emotional to wear them, but they would brighten the gown and give her ensemble the something extra she knew it needed.
When Amy left her, Elizabeth went back to the armoire and looked at the other gowns Lady Isadora had ordered for her. She discovered a pretty green-striped morning gown, a deep blue carriage gown, two afternoon gowns, one white and one peach, and another evening dress in white shot with silver. She could not fault her employer’s taste—they were just such as she might have ordered for herself if she had been given another Season in town. However, she thought them a little too smart for a companion and would not have chosen them in her present circumstances. Since Lady Isadora had presented her with them, she decided she would wear them as soon as she felt able.
It wanted twenty minutes to six, but Elizabeth decided to go downstairs rather than remain alone in her room. Lady Isadora had mentioned her son’s library and she was eager to see what she could find that might be suitable to read to her employer in the afternoons, and she might also find something she could bring back to her room to read before she slept.
She stopped to speak to one of the footmen, asking for the direction of the earl’s library and was informed that it was on the ground floor at the rear of the house. She made her way unhurriedly towards it, entering with a feeling of pleasure as she saw that it was a large, long room lined on three sides with impressive mahogany shelves, the windows on the fourth side sufficiently large to let in a good light. There were several sofas and chairs with reading stands close by, and a leather-topped drum table at one end, a square pedestal table at the other. She walked along the length of the shelves, feeling puzzled as she realised that nothing was in order; there were all kinds of literature, estate records, poetry and serious works jumbled up together.
‘It is in rather a mess, is it not?’
Elizabeth jumped as she heard the earl’s voice and turned to look at him. ‘I beg your pardon, sir. I did not hear you come in.’
He ignored her rather flustered address. ‘My father was a great buyer of books, but he had no idea of how they should be stored. I have thought that I would make a start on cataloguing what we have one day, but as yet I have not begun.’
‘I have seen several volumes that would seem to be first editions,’ Elizabeth said, looking thoughtfully at the shelves. ‘How would you wish the books to be arranged, sir—in categories or by author?’
The earl raised his brows, his piercing blue eyes intent on her face. ‘Are you offering to undertake the task, Miss Travers?’
‘It would be a pleasure to at least make a start, though of course it could take many months or even years to complete,’ Elizabeth said, turning her serious eyes on him. ‘But only if I have your approval?’
‘Well, you must not tire yourself,’ the earl said, ‘or my mother will have it that I am a wicked slave driver—but if you have a few moments to spare now and then…’
‘It would be much easier for you if all the estate books were in one section, the serious works on another shelf, for they are perhaps the books you like to read, and then literature and poetry.’
‘You have excellent judgement, Miss Travers. I see that I could do no better than to leave my library in your hands.’
‘Oh…’ She blushed with pleasure, for something in his look had made her heart flutter. ‘If you are sure, it would be such a pleasure to me, sir. Of all things I love books, reading and touching them—and to catalogue such a wonderful collection would be such a treat.’
‘Is it a wonderful collection? I had thought there were a few treasures, but most of it seems a hotchpotch of nonsense.’
‘Oh, no, how could you?’ Elizabeth caught the gleam in his eyes and realised that he was teasing her. ‘But you know there are some rare volumes here, do you not?’
‘Yes, I confess it is one of my interests, and if I were not dreadfully indolent I would have put them in order before this—but I have not been at home often since my return from the Peninsula, you see. And there has been much to see to at our various estates—my father had not been well for a while before his death.’
‘And I dare say you did not like to make sweeping changes to your father’s domain too soon?’
The earl gave her a thoughtful look, his eyes slightly narrowed. ‘You are perceptive, Miss Travers. For one reason or another my father had allowed things to slide. I have