Page 36 of His Forsaken Bride

“You had my dress cleaned already?” said Fen with relief as she made for it. “Is my cloak in there too?” It was a very big parcel.

“No,” admitted Oswald after a pause. “An acquaintance sent this for you to borrow.”

Fen lowered the parcel with surprise. “But how do they know what will fit me?”

Oswald shrugged. “It will probably need some alteration,” he said. “She is sending along her maid presently to attend you.”

His acquaintance was a woman, she thought with a jolt, but he had walked straight past her and was pouring himself some water. “Roland has gone out, dressed in armor,” she told him.

“Has he?” He could not have sounded less interested if he had tried.

There was a knock on the door and Oswald walked to it. He opened it and admitted an efficient looking young woman with hair so blonde it was almost white. It was braided and pinned very neatly around her head. She bobbed a curtsey and headed straight for Fenella.

“You got it then?” she said nodding at the parcel. “Shall we take a look how it fits?”

Fen surmised this was the maid of the acquaintance and nodded. “By all means. Follow me,” she said and headed for the bedroom with the maid following closely behind her.

“It is very kind of you to come and aid me. What is your name?” asked Fen as she started undoing her buttons.

“Jenny,” the other tossed over her shoulder as she attacked the string securing the parcel. “I’m Lady Sumner’s personal maid.”

“Lady Sumner,” repeated Fenella. She did not know the name. “I believe she is an acquaintance of my husband’s.”

Jenny nodded. “You’ll meet my lady tonight,” she said unbundling an under-gown of cream and gold brocade. “She can’t wait to clap eyes on you,” she added, turning and shaking out a silken under dress. “Though she pretended to yawn when she told me, like it was the greatest bore.” Jenny snorted. “But you can’t fool a maid you’ve had for ten years,” she sniffed. “Be she ever so clever.”

“Is she very clever then, your mistress?” asked Fenella.

“That’s her reputation, milady,” Jenny compressed her lips. “But it’s all book learning!” she scoffed. “She’s never turned a distaff, nor a meat-spit her entire life. Not with them white hands!”

“I see,” said Fen, stepping out of the red robe. She shivered in her shift. Jenny cast an appraising eye over her. “Well you’ve much more flesh on you than my mistress, I can see that for nothing. I shall have to let out the seams.”

Fen blinked. Well that was plain speaking! “I hope it will not mar the gown,” she said. “Could I help?”

Jenny shook her head. “It’ll be quicker if I work alone,” she said crossing to sit on one of the high back chairs. “Why don’t you unpack the rest of it,” she said around a mouthful of pins. “I’ll get started right away.”

Fen crossed to the bed and picked up a luxurious over-dress of rich brown velvet. The low neckline was studded with pearls and colored stones. “It’s very beautiful,” she gasped. “This must be your mistresses’ best gown.”

Jenny snorted. “Not her,” she scoffed. “She’s got about ten of those and rest assured she gave you the one that becomes her the least. She’s never even worn that one,” added Jenny. “Probably planned to wear it when she’s in mourning for his lordship.”

Fen was startled. “She is anticipating a bereavement?” Poor woman.

“She’s been anticipating it since she married him,” said Jenny pertly. “My Lord Sumner is eighty-five years of age.”

“Oh, I see,” said Fen, who saw nothing of the kind. She badly wanted to ask how old Lady Sumner was, but knew she should not encourage the maid so kindly sent to help her, to gossip about her own mistress.

“She’s thirty-five,” said Jenny, giving her a sideways glance. “In case you’re wondering.”

“A fifty-year age gap,” exclaimed Fen before she could stop herself.

Jenny smirked. “Indeed. And it suits my lady greatly, to be left to her own devices.” Her needle flashed as it went in and out of the shimmering fabric.

“I see,” murmured Fen as she shook out the folds from the heavy fabric. “Have they been married for many years?”

“Ten years,” shrugged Jenny.

“Only ten?” Fen had thought that perhaps Lady Sumner had been married to him as a very young bride when he was in his late fifties or early sixties perhaps.

The fabric rustled as Jenny turned it over to expose another seam and then snipped at it with a small pair of silver scissors from her belt. “Let us have a look and see if this will suffice,” she said standing up.