Page 31 of The Gentlewoman Companion

“We’ll be crambling along, but I like the sludgy feeling,” Louisa said.

“Crambling?”

“Oh, I mean…we’ll be walking with difficulty.” Yet another word to stuff away.

Lady Halverton turned to her and grinned. “We may as well enjoy the cramble.”

Her son, however, remained stern as he guided his mother through the muck.

Louisa sucked blood from her finger, which she had poked in affixing her mother’s brooch. She was pressing a bit of cotton to stay the blood when Lady Halverton entered her room.

“He is not better,” Lady Halverton said of her son, who suffered a cold resulting from their exodus through the rain three days prior. “Instead of resting, he stomps around his room practicing his speech. I fear he is not well enough to attend the card party.”

Louisa’s insides sank. To celebrate Louisa’s new gowns, Lady Halverton was hosting the promised party. Halverton’s familiar face would have stilled some of the butterflies that swarmed her chest in anticipation of this venture into society. Though she had already met most of the guests, she knew they did not see her as their equal because of her position as companion and perhaps because of her Cornish accent. She wanted them to like her not only so she might forget her Great Misjudgment, but also because Lady Halverton seemed to expect everyone to find Louisa enchanting. When they did not, Louisa felt she was disappointing her employer.

“By the by, he says your insights helped with his speech,” Lady Halverton said.

“I only pointed out what was obvious.” Having never received praise for her intelligence, Louisa could not accept the compliment.

“He is impressed with you.”

Louisa adjusted the brooch, which she’d pinned artistically on her shoulder.

“Let me see your dress, dear,” Lady Halverton said.

Louisa turned, curtsied, and spun around.

“Beautiful! While one should not think excessively of her attire, she should try to be stunning, if at all possible. That gown becomes you.”

“I fear it is too fine for a card party.”

“Not a bit.”

The robe à la française was delicate pink with just enough side hoop to please fashion and a cascading trail of gathered silk down the front. The sleeves fit tight to the elbow then billowed in pleats and lace. It was the finest gown Louisa had ever worn.

“Thank you, my lady. I love it.” That was an understatement. She adored the gown. It transformed her into a new Louisa Thorpe and gave her hope that she might discard the past and retain this new, if not entirely understood, future. Though clothing did not make a woman, Louisa felt a bit stronger than before.

Together, they made their way to the drawing room to make certain everything was in order. When they entered, they found Lord Halverton on the settee.

“James, you should be in bed, else you’ll never get well,” Lady Halverton said.

He smiled at his mother but stepped toward Louisa. He took her hand and pressed his lips to her gloved knuckles. “Miss Thorpe, how do you do?” His golden eyes focused on hers with so open an expression, so soft a look that his happiness at seeing her bloomed through her middle. That his gaze did not stray to the elegant gown she wore both annoyed and pleased her.

“I am well, but how are you?” Louisa asked. “Your mother reported you were not improved.”

“My mother thinks I am always on the brink of death, but it would kill me to remain in my room another second.” His nose was a little red, but otherwise, he appeared healthy.

“I should not have suggested we walk in the rain.”

“It is merely a cold.”

“Had I known of your weak constitution, I’d have pressed you to remain in the cottage.” Louisa held her breath. Was that too familiar?

Lord Halverton smiled, and Lady Halverton tittered. Their amusement at her teasing strengthened the tenuous fibers that knit her to them.

From outside, the crunch of gravel indicated the arrival of the first guest.

Lady Halverton took Louisa’s hand and held it high, turning her around. “Doesn’t she look wonderful, James?”