Page 34 of The Secret Word
“That will solve Mrs. Bellowes’ problem, too,” said Aunt Fern, “since she can use the gown money for the wedding feast.”
Of course!Mrs. Bellowes cheered up, but Clem still did nothavea modiste, willing or otherwise. Aunt Fern had a plan for that, too. “I know a young woman who has just set up on her own. She is brilliant, Clem, but has not yet been noticed by the ton, which means she is a lot cheaper than you might expect, and she probably has time to make your gown. You could be her opportunity to be seen by those who matter. I shall introduce you.”
It all sounded wonderful, but Clem saw a flaw. “Father will object if he finds out,” she said.
“Your fatherwillfind out, and he willnotobject,” Aunt Fern predicted. “I shall call on him myself and point out how these changes will cost him nothing and will allow him to give you a wedding to impress his competitors and any members of the ton who attend. As I intend to do.”
She was as good as her word. What she said to Clem’s father Clem never discovered, but he emerged from the study to see her to the door, then told Clem, “Lady Fernvale is a real lady. You could do worse than to study her, Clementine, and model yourself on her. A bit of a bossy boots, but she has good reasons for what she does. Yes. A real lady. Not like that Bellowes female. I was mistaken in her, and it’s not often that Bertram Wright gets taken in. I have to give her a bonus and a good reference, Lady Fernvale says. Can’t have her hinting that I’m not to be trusted, or worse. But she’ll be gone after the wedding. If you doubt that, just watch me.”
“I don’t doubt it, Father,” Clem told him. Gracious! Aunt Fern had done it! Furthermore, tomorrow morning, she was taking Clem to visit the new modiste. And Chris had said that, if she liked the woman’s work, she might as well make a start on ordering her new wardrobe!
Clem, who had already been looking forward to being married, was now looking forward to her wedding.
Chapter Thirteen
Chris’s only tasks,Wright had said, were to visit the Bishop of London to acquire a common license, and to turn up on the day.
Wright was wrong. Chris also had to find a place for him and Clem to live, and make it a fit home for him and his new bride.
First, he wanted Clem to know what he had in mind. She was tied up with dress fittings and consultations with Aunt Fern and Mrs. Bellowes about food and decorations for the wedding feast, but he managed to steal her away for a carriage ride in Hyde Park.
“I’m hunting for a house, and I want your opinion,” he said, as soon as they were in the park and he had a little attention to spare from the horses, other traffic, and careless pedestrians. “I think we should act as if the Thurgood estate will not happen,” he said.
Both the Thurgood and Satterthwaite relatives were waiting to meet Chris and Clem until after the wedding, so Chris still did not know if the estate was his, and if so, how big it was and how much income it produced.
“I agree, Chris, but surely we can afford to rent a place in the country for your school from the money Father will sign over to you after the wedding?”
Chris was not counting that as certain, either. “I must admit, I have been more than half expecting your father to take offense and call the whole thing off. In which case, you and I will needto quickly use this license I have, before he stops us. I think I should sign up for a townhouse, as we agreed, but in a less expensive part of town. Then, if your father backs out, we can use some of my savings to pay the rent.”
“Is that wise?” Clem asked. “If we do go ahead without Father’s approval, you won’t have a position with him, and you have left Mr. O’Hara’s employ.”
Was she saying she wouldn’t marry him if her Father decided against him? Was she worried about her security? Chris hastened to assure her. “I should be able to find a job quite quickly.” Even if Wright and Billy both went out and bad-mouthed him to prospective employers, he was reasonably certain he could find something. “At worst, I can return to work for Billy. I can support you, darling. You need not worry about that.”
Clem made an impatient gesture. “I do not want you to obligated to Mr. O’Hara,” she protested. “I just want to be sensible. If Father campaigns against you, we might have to leave London, and then the townhouse would be an unnecessary expense. Why not rent it for a quarter, and leave the rest of the money Father gives you in the bank?” Sensible, and still ready to marry him, since she said, “We might have to leave London.”
She would marry him, then, whatever her father did. “A good idea,” Chris said. “Paying yearly might be cheaper, but in three months, we should know about the Thurgood inheritance and we’ll have received the first payment from your father.” And possibly even the second, depending on how quickly Clem conceived her first child.
They discussed the location. She was happy to leave it to him, apart from agreeing she did not want or need to live in one of London’s more exclusive areas, and that a house within easy walking distance of Wright was a bad idea.
“A neighborhood of merchants, bankers and lower gentry might suit us best,” Chris suggested. “We are what the newspapers call ‘the middle sort’, are we not? Whatever your father’s aspirations. And I can tell your father that we are renting for a quarter, while we look around for a better address.”
“Yes, that sort of neighborhood will be good. Somewhere for people who live year-round in London, except for a brief holiday visiting family or the like. A neighborhood for people who are comfortably circumstanced, Chris.”
“I will take it partially-furnished, if I can,” he said, “and once we are married, we can go shopping together for anything else we need.”
Armed with her approval, he set off to make the rounds of the estate agents and solicitors, looking for anything that might be on the market. It was harder than he expected. He saw houses that were priced beyond their means, others that were little more than a few rooms with no facility for cooking and no room for servants, and some that would have worked if they were not right on the edges—and perhaps inside the borders—of some very rundown areas.
Finally, after a frustrating few days, he admitted his failure to Billy. Once again, Billy came to the rescue.
“I have been to look at a townhouse that might work for us,” he told Clem. “It is not large, but not too small, either. It has four floors and a basement, with a dining room and reception room on the ground floor, two parlors on the first floor, and two bedrooms on each of the other floors. Kitchen and accommodation for the servants in the basement. It is in Primrose Square, just off Curzon Street, so not far from your father’s offices.”
“It seems perfect,” Clem said. “But you sound as if you have doubts. Is there something wrong with it? Is it too expensive?”
“The house is perfect,” he admitted. “The owner will rent it to us for one quarter, with a rent of eight pounds paid in advance. If we decide to stay on, it will be a yearly rental of twenty pounds paid at five pounds a quarter.”
“That seems reasonable.” Clem waited for Chris to say more.
Chris admitted his reservation. “It belongs to Billy O’Hara.”
