Page 21 of The Viscount's Pearl
Margate in early December was cold, the sea breeze no longer gentle but sharp, throwing sand into eyes and chilling the skin. The invalids had all gone home, now there were only the locals, so that the need for bathing houses and bathing carriages was greatly diminished, the beach almost empty aside from a few children or dogs running in the wind, unconcerned by the chill. But Northdown House was still a haven of cosy comfort and Laurence was glad he had chosen to visit before he returned to the family home for Christmas.
“You will not need to attend the Assembly Rooms this time, Laurence,” promised Lord Barrington on Laurence’s first evening there. “The season here is quite over until the warmer months see fit to bless us once again.”
Laurence did not say “thank goodness” out loud, but hethought it. “I had the pleasure of seeing Miss Lilley in London,” he said instead. “We danced together at the Halesworth ball.”
“Indeed? I am glad to hear it. She will be joining me here in a few days, I hope your paths will cross.”
“Yes, Sir, I intend to stay a week, if you’ll have me.” Having Miss Lilley join them was unexpected, but he was glad for her sake that she had avoided any more of the Little Season.
“Capital, capital. Then we shall be a merry band.”
Frances arrived two days later as dusk came on, the worthy Deborah in tow. Lord Barrington welcomed her in the hallway with a cup of mulled wine.
“Frances my dear, it is wonderful to see you again so soon, I had thought not to enjoy the pleasure of your company this side of Christmas.”
“I begged Mama and since the season proper will not start until March she has let me off the Little Season, once I did not take the eye of the Duke of Buckingham.”
“Ah, yes, I heard of that. It was a bad business, losing the Duke and then his heir so suddenly, thank goodness he had a younger son. Now, allow your maid to do her duty by you so that you are ready for dinner with Mr Mowatt. I myself cannot dine with you, for my physician will be visiting me this evening and will expect to find me tucked up in bed with a hot mutton broth and nothing in the way of a sweet course. The man has no proper feeling for the joys of this earthly life. But Mrs Norris will not stint you and Mr Mowatt, you will always find a generous table when she is in charge.”
“I did not know Mr Mowatt was visiting just now,” said Frances, “though he did mention he would try to.”
“He is a devoted young man,” said Lord Barrington with a smile, turning to Deborah, still waiting with Frances’ trunk.“Deborah, I leave your mistress in your capable hands. You have all of twenty minutes to make her ready for dinner.”
“Yes, Sir.” Deborah bobbed, pointing the footmen towards Frances’ trunk and hurrying upstairs to be ready for her.
“Frances, I will bid you goodnight and see you tomorrow. Enjoy your dinner and be sure to eat some of the apple puffs on my behalf, for I shall be missing them dearly.”
Upstairs, Frances submitted to Deborah’s ministrations, washing and changing her dress and shoes.
“Not the blue silk, it is too elegant, there are only the two of us at dinner. Did you not bring something plainer?”
Deborah shook her head. “Lady Lilley has disposed of most of your plain clothes,” she said. “She complained you looked more like a maid than a lady. And besides the blue is not as fancy as the green,” she added, pointing to a frothy green confection spilling out of the trunk.
“Oh, do as you please,” said Frances, annoyed. “But no ringlets. Or jewellery,” she added, seeing Deborah lift out her jewellery case.
She descended the staircase to find Mr Mowatt waiting for her at the bottom.
“There is no need to take me in to dinner,” she objected. “I am well aware of the location of the dining room.”
“Good evening, Miss Lilley,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Is it?”
He offered her his arm and she took it after hesitating.
“Yes. I would have been forced to dine alone and one mouth could never do justice to Mrs Norris’ cooking.”
The table was laid out with beautiful floral decorations of white camellias and red holly berries, lit up by dozens of candles which made the silverware and glasses shine. Formal seating rules hadbeen applied, so that their places were laid at either end of the long table, but Frances shook her head.
“That is an absurd seating. Benjamin, change the places. I am not about to shout down the table to Mr Mowatt all evening. We can sit closer together.”
Laurence watched, amused, as Miss Lilley stood waiting to be reseated. The blue dress she wore was plain, but the colour of it lifted the shade of her eyes, making them more blue than grey, which suited her, he thought. She should always wear brighter hues.
The seating rectified, they were now closer together, on opposite sides of one end, the dishes hastily rearranged to their new positions.
Mrs Norris, as expected, had produced a feast, starting with crawfish soup, which was followed by a roast turkey, the rest of the table laden with woodcocks, ragooed lobsters, fried oysters, mushrooms and beef collops as well as fillets of whiting. Lemon jelly, apple puffs, stewed pears and ginger biscuits would complete the meal.
“I wonder how the people of Margate get on when we visitors are gone for the winter,” Frances remarked, as she finished her crawfish soup.
