Page 7 of Murder at Madame Chambon's
Evelina gave a short laugh.“I don’t know.Both, I suppose.”
“Where will you meet?At her home?Why are you not living with her now that you’re in London?”
“Do you always ask so many questions, Kitty?”
“The girls called me a chatterbox, Miss.But they liked it.Made ‘em feel better to have someone to talk to, they said, after the gentlemen—” She stopped abruptly.
“My, Kitty, you talk about the girls as if there were dozens of them.How many sisters were there in this family of obviously popular young ladies?You’re forever referring to their gentlemen callers.”
“Am I, miss?”Kitty bit her lip.
“Indeed, you are.”Fearing she’d been too harsh, Evelina asked, more kindly, “No doubt, in such a large family, there was much call upon your attentions.Tell me about the most difficult of these girls.”Evelina had been called difficult on many an occasion.
“Miss Celeste,” replied Kitty without hesitation and Evelina laughed.“You didn’t have to think one second before you replied, Kitty.Why was she so difficult?”
But Kitty’s expression suddenly became shuttered, and Evelina had to coax her to respond.
“Celeste was the most beautiful,” the young maid replied with a sigh.“She were also the most demanding and haughty and the gentleman liked her best out of all ’o them.”
“Well, bravo to Celeste.I admire a woman who isn’t afraid of making it clear what she wants.No doubt she married well.”
Evelina glanced up when she saw Kitty’s expression in the looking glass and that tears were welling in her eyes.“She didn’t?I’m sorry to hear that.But… where there’s life, there’s hope.”Evelina thought of her own mama and papa and her hope that they might one day be reunited.It was what she’d hoped for throughout her young life: that her papa would return from the gold mine he owned in Africa and buy a big house where she and mama would live.He was back in England now, but, apart from two treasured letters he’d written when she was six and eight, she’d not heard from him.
“Except there ain’t even that for Miss Celeste is dead now.Murdered.”
“Dear God!”Evelina crossed herself instinctively.
“It ain’t a story for your ears, miss, and I oughtn’t a’ blurted it out.Not when tonight is another grand ball and you should be so ’appy.Tell me about your mama.Six years is a long time.She’ll see a fine young lady and not a wee girl when you meet.My, but she’ll be right proud of such a beauty, Miss.”
“You think so, Kitty?That’s kind of you to say it.”
“Now, what shall I lay out for you to wear, miss?If you’re to take luncheon together, I think the pink silk is lovely.‘Specially if you haven’t seen your mama in such an age.Pink is for young girls and young ladies, and you’ll be both to her.”
Evelina smiled.“I like that way of thinking, Kitty.”She nodded at the lovely ensemble Kitty had fetched and now held up for her.“Lady Durham has invited both of us to luncheon at her home in Mayfair.Mama has traveled into London to see me and doesn’t wish me to be seen in a public place.I fear—” She stopped, then continued at Kitty’s enquiring look, “I fear that Mama is a woman of exacting morals and that my independent streak may not be to her liking.It has been a topic discussed during our correspondence over the years when the Mother Superior of the convent where I went to school was critical of my dress or manners on certain occasions.”
Kitty’s eyes were wide.“Lady Durham?Why, to be sure Lady Durham will be a fine person for seeing that your morals and manners do not run afoul of … of the ’stablishment.”
“You know Lady Durham, then?”
“Yes…no, no, I have never met Lady Durham.”
“But you know of her?”
“Indeed, I do.I mean, before she became Lady Durham.She was one of the nicest girls—I mean, she’s a woman greatly thought of having made a respectable marriage none of us could countenance at the time.”
“Kitty, do stop talking in riddles.What do you know of Lady Durham?It would help me to school my behavior, as I’d like to make the most favorable impression on both Mama and her friend.Perhaps she sought out Lady Durham to aid my entry into society here in London.
Evelina caught Kitty’s dubious look and was troubled.“Do you think Lady Durham will disapprove of me?”
“No, no, Miss, not that, of course!Now, let me help you into your lovely gown and then I will finish brushing your ringlets into place.”
Evelina wasa bundle of nerves by the time the carriage drew up in front of Lady Durham’s London townhouse.Her Mama had proudly claimed credit for Lady Durham’s elevation from lowly governess to viscountess, but Evelina wasn’t sure what to believe.Her mother had always been one to gild the lily.
After being helped to alight, she stopped on the pavement to tweak her skirts and quell her anxiety.For the first time in six years, she was to see her mama.
The weekly letters she received from her, laying out Mrs.Tarot’s expectations, had accorded oddly with the woman Evelina remembered from when she was fourteen.
Her mother, dressed in severe black, had had memorably vivid red hair.Evelina would never forget the color, not having seen quite such a shade of red on anyone she had ever met.
