Page 15 of Miss Pauline's Perfect Present
She shed tears because for the first time since the summer, someone had touched her heart. But he would have gone away by now and since he no longer worked at Meyer’s, she wouldn’t be able to find him.
Phyllida fished a large handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Pauline. “Get control of yerself. Her La’ship asked fer ye. I’m to bring you upstairs.”
Pauline wiped her eyes and blew her nose. What did she have to cry about, really? Her very best friend in the world had just survived childbirth and had delivered a baby girl into a life of privilege. Surely that was enough to make all her disappointments unimportant.
Of course, things would never be quite the same again. Would Augusta still have time to design gowns? What would happen to Madame Pauline’s without the stamp of thetonon everything the shop produced? But this was not the time to think about it.
Phyllida led her upstairs, chattering all the way about Lady Bridlington’s hard labor, saying that all turned out well in the end, and the doctor said he’d never seen such a beautiful baby. Pauline’s eyes were round with wonder, but not at what Phyllida was telling her. Everywhere she looked, evergreen garlands and holly boughs had transformed the elegant and understated mansion to effusive life. Their scent was so redolent of Christmas that Pauline’s heart swelled. It was all a miracle.Augusta had made it through childbirth, and her infant was healthy. A Christmas baby! Surely that meant something.
“And you should see His Lordship!” Phyllida said as they walked along the hallway to Lady Bridlington’s bedchamber. “I’ve never saw a man so besotted for a baby in my life.”
“Wasn’t he disappointed it wasn’t a boy?” Pauline asked, suddenly aware that she probably hadn’t seemed sufficiently enthusiastic, or asked any of the right questions. She was still completely exhausted, after all.
“Nah, he says it’s just perfect, and they’ll just have to do it again as soon as Her La’ship is recovered.” They both laughed.
Phyllida tapped on the door and Augusta’s voice called out for her to come in. She sounded strong, Pauline thought.
Indeed, Augusta was sat up in bed with a cup of tea in her hands, looking tired and pale—and so, so happy. “Come and meet Lady Isabel Pauline Mariana Lanyon,” she said.
The earl had been facing away from them, but he turned to show them the swaddled bundle he held lovingly in his arms.
“She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Pauline whispered, touching the sleeping infant’s cheek with her fingertip. And then she turned back to Augusta. “What did you say her name was?”
“Lady Isabel Pauline Mariana Lanyon.”
Pauline struggled to hold back her tears, again. “Y-you’ll call her Lady Isabel, of course. Pauline’s not a fine enough name for a lady.”
Augusta shook her head. “I know a Pauline who is every bit a lady.” She stretched her hand out and pulled Pauline to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.
Pauline took in the sumptuous furnishings of the bedchamber, admiring the silk brocade bed curtains and the Aubusson carpet on the floor. Suddenly she thought of the unfinished gowns in Bruton Street, and gasped.
“What is it?” Augusta asked.
“Oh, n-nothing. It’s not important. Only I can’t stay for too long.”
“Of course. You must be so tired yourself.”
“Me tired! It’s you what’s done all the work!” Pauline said.
Lady Bridlington shook her head. “I won’t pretend it was easy. But I would do it all again for this joy. It’s Christmas morning. And I have been given the best present I could ever have imagined.” Augusta raised glowing eyes to her proud husband, who beamed right back at her.
The intense intimacy of that moment brought Pauline to her senses. “I must go. I’m a mess. Been in these clothes for two days!” She tried to make it sound like a joke even as the thought of the unfinished pieces back at the workshop weighed on her.
“Come back whenever you like,” Augusta said. “You must get to know your god daughter.”
Not that as well! It was too much. Pauline said her goodbyes quickly, rushing out of the room before she embarrassed herself by sobbing in front of Lord Bridlington.
She hurried down to the hall. Allsop had her cloak and scarf ready, and said, “His Lordship had the carriage brought round to take you back to Bruton Street, Ma’am.”
Pauline nodded, although the shop was so close to Berkeley Square she could easily have walked, and went through the open door, letting a footman hand her up into the barouche.
What a Christmas this had been!
CHAPTER 14
The streets were thronged with pedestrians bundled-up in their best cloaks and pelisses, children scrubbed and wearing their cleanest boots and nankeens and winter hats and coats heading to church on Christmas morning. Pauline supposed she should change as well and go to St. George’s, Hanover Square. The early service wouldn’t be too crowded. The quality would all be going later. Of course, Augusta wouldn’t go to church. She had her blessing at home.
Really, all Pauline wanted to do was sleep. Her spirits should be high. Augusta was safe and healthy and had a baby girl. The strange commission hadn’t been completed, certainly, but what did that really matter? As to the aggravating, beguiling Mr. Cooper, it was likely she’d never see him again. She had no doubt he must be furious with her. She, after all, was the cause of his unemployment. Perhaps Aloysius would be able to help him? Even so, she would forever be associated with a fruitless, grueling night and the worst possible outcome for him.
