Page 48 of Lady for a Season
By the time they had finished shopping, Maggie was surprised there was any room left in the carriage. They were surrounded by boxes, beautifully presented and wrapped. Taking up the most room were hat boxes, five of them, with another three to be delivered. Two ready-to-wear gowns were laid in a far larger box, where minor alterations only would be required, to be done by Celine. Outside, larger boxes had been strapped onto the carriage, including two vast boxes which one might reasonably expect to have something substantial in and actually only contained two muffs, one a rich brown fur, the other a delicate confection of white silk and swansdown, which Maggie said to Celine was like packing a cloud into a box.
“A lady can keep private items in there as well as in her reticule,” pointed out Celine, practically. “Her fan, a handkerchief, some ladies even use them to conceal private correspondence.”
Maggie believed one could easily keep a bourdaloue inside muffs as large as the ones they had purchased, in case of unexpectedly requiring to relieve oneself, but she supposed that was not a ladylike thing to say, let alone think, so she kept the thought to herself.
Celine also purchased a bunch of blue-jay feathers.
“What are they for?”
“I have a plan for your riding habit and hat.”
“A special riding hat? Won’t a bonnet do? We have bought enough of them.”
“It is like a top hat, but for a lady,” explained Celine. “You have not worn one until now as there was no-one to see you and they need to be made to measure. But you cannot go riding without a hat.”
At 37 Golden Square Maggie was fitted for a riding habit by Mr S. Clark, a gentleman’s tailor, who took endless measurements as well as one of Celine’s blue-jay feathers, tucking it next to his notes.
“Why does the modiste not make riding habits?” she asked Celine, once they were back in the carriage.
“A few do now,” admitted Celine. “But Her Grace prefers things done traditionally, and riding habits have always been made by men, to give a more tailored look. Now, we will need some items for your reticules. The modiste will make a few for you, to match your dresses or compliment them, but you will need items to carry inside them.”
“Such as?”
“A sewing étui.”
“A what?”
“A little sewing case, with needles, pins, thread, scissors. In case you should be out and have anything happen to your clothes, so that it can be remedied.”
Celine added a tiny silver vinaigrette, a small purse, a cosmetics case from Pear’s made out of green-tinted sharkskin leather which contained a face powder called Almond Bloom with matching rouge in Liquid Blooms of Roses, Rose Lip Salve in a round silver cachou tin, a pocketbook to keep notes in with a tiny silver pen to accompany it, a carved ivory fan and half a dozen dainty handkerchiefs trimmed with exquisite lace. Most of the items were minute, the cosmetics cases measuring just two inches, so that they might all fit comfortably within a dainty reticule. They ordered visiting cards markedMiss Margaret Seton, Atherton House, from a printer, to be delivered as soonas possible and which would reside in a small scroll-decorated silver case.
They visited Lock & Co., Hatters to the Nobility and Gentry, at No. 6, St. James’ Street, where an eager assistant named Patrick measured Maggie’s head and then showed a selection of riding hats, deftly sketching the one Celine nodded at and adding all the measurements to it.
“We keep all our customers’ details. If you should wish for another hat at any time, you need only send word and we will have one ready for you the very same day, if required.” He made copious notes about what had been planned for her habit and assured her that the design he had in mind would be “everything wonderful,” checking through a vast selection of silk ribands on display and nodding when Celine tapped a suitable blue, which matched the jay feathers she left with him.
The riding habit, when it arrived a few days later, was breathtaking. A rich blue with gold frogging and buttons down the front and on the cuffs, in a military style. The large white box from Lock & Co., simply but elegantly marked with their name in swirling black writing which Celine had placed next to the habit, contained a beaver felt riding hat in a warm brown, decorated with a blue-ribbon trim and a spray of the blue-jay feathers which exactly matched the habit.
“And the boots,” said Celine with pride.
A pair of half-length riding boots in brown leather from Wood were finished with blue silk tassels.
“All that just for riding a horse,” marvelled Maggie.
“A lady is very visible on a horse,” pointed out Celine. “And riding in Rotten Row, which is mostly where you will be, is not riding in the countryside, for sport or to get somewhere. It is riding to beseen. There are ladies who have several riding habits.”
“This one will do for me,” said Maggie, stroking the hat. “It is all so beautiful.”
The clock chimed and Celine startled. “It is time to go riding. Joseph will already have prepared His Grace.”
Maggie stared at herself in the looking glass. The riding habit was tighter than her current dresses, with a thicker fabric, the skirt falling in multiple folds at the back. Her hat was a perfect fit, as were her boots and new gloves. She felt both held in and weighed down with the entire outfit, as though she had gained in stature and importance. She knew now why the Duchess moved with a stately gait. The clothes were doing the same to her as she made her way down the stairs, the skirt looped over one arm.
By the door, Edward inspected her. “Are you sure there is enough fabric on that thing? And enough gold buttons and frogging?”
“Is it too gaudy?” Maggie’s spirits dashed. For a moment she had felt truly elegant, encouraged by Celine’s admiration.
Edward shook his head. “I am only teasing,” he said. “I did not mean to poke fun at you. You look every inch a lady and it will be my pleasure to be seen with you on Rotten Row.”
“You despise the idea of being seen on Rotten Row.”
