Page 71 of The Scarred Duchess
“How do you remember everyone’s preferences?” Georgiana asked. “It is all so overwhelming.”
“I shall let you in on a Bennet secret.”
“Mama’s secret, mind you,” Jane added.
Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, our mother’s secret. She taught us to keep a parlour book of guests’ preferences. Each page is a letter of the alphabet. We use that page for actual surnames. If we only remember a title, we have pages for visitors by rank.”
“How clever!” exclaimed Georgiana.
“We keep two copies. One is in the kitchen, the other in the housekeeper’s room. Can you surmise why we do this?”
“I can see Mrs Reynolds preparing for our guests well before they arrive, but why is a copy with Cook?”
“Excellent question, dear,” encouraged Jane.
Elizabeth provided the explanation. “While we entertain unscheduled guests, Hill takes their cards to Cook. Then, Mrs Hill sets up the tea tray by visitor preference. If a guest prefers a small dollop of honey and a large pour of milk, a tiny spoon in honey and a larger cup of milk are next to that cup, with their card underneath the setting.”
“That is a wonderful system,” exclaimed Georgiana.
“There is nothing wrong in asking a guest’s preferences. Only poor manners will end in vexation,” counselled Jane.
“Who could ever show vexation with you, Jane?” Georgiana asked, sounding doubtful.
“None! Vexation cannot coexist with perfection,” Elizabeth teased.
“Nor with your teasing,” Jane chuckled. “Always remember to add to your tea journal. Your Mrs Reynolds will support you gloriously.”
The countess moved quietly away from the doorway. It would not do to be caught eavesdropping. Georgiana’s happiness with the Bennet ladies warmed her heart, especially her immediate bond with Elizabeth. She would meet with Lady Catherine to gauge the progress of Elizabeth’s Season. Something about the brunette beauty brought her nephew Darcy to mind. Her liveliness would certainly add light to his sombre mien.
Three days later, the sun shone brightly through the window of Bond Street’s most exclusive dress maker. While Elizabeth was occupied on an excursion with Lady Catherine, Georgiana had accompanied Jane as she added to her wardrobe for her upcoming Season.
“Oh, it is all so beautiful,” Georgiana exclaimed, running her fingers over a piece of silk. They moved from table to table, discussing the fabrics and colours they liked. Jane favoured pale gold silk, while Georgiana chose a delicate pink lace.
“Oh, and look at this lavender velvet,” Georgiana said, running her fingers over the fabric. “It would make a beautiful ball gown for you.”
Madame Celeste replied. “Yes, that would be perfect. I shall see what remains of that bolt.”
Georgiana gasped and jumped. “You surprised me.”
The shopkeeper smiled and walked away; her actions—and her seemingly false friendliness—put Jane on guard. Madame Celeste’s manners left much to be desired—the woman ought to have shown proper deference to her patron and apologised.
Georgiana picked up the bolt of silk, observing, “Madame forgot to take our samples.”
“Allow me,” Jane offered. She hoped her suspicions were unfounded, but town constantly disappointed her. She walked towards the back of the shop, following the path the proprietor had trod moments earlier. She stopped two steps before the curtain in the open doorway. The flawless French Madame had spoken earlier when she greeted them had seemingly disappeared.
“I don’t care if Miss Darcy be rich. She ain’t ne’er going to catch a fancy, with her face and all,” said the shop assistant.
“Her money will get her one. The dandies marry her purse, not her person,” replied Madame Celeste.
“She must have it and more. Did you see them footmen of hers? They are everywhere!”
“Oui.And who is that with her? Miss Bennet? A poseur with her hat andvoile.”
Jane stepped through the doorway. Madame Celeste looked at her with widened eyes.
“I shall notify the countess of your conversation,” Jane announced in flawless French.
Madame Celeste wore her shock openly. “Why would that be, Mademoiselle Bennet?”
