“Her!” Mama truly was agitated. “The countess. You know. Lady Lockwood.” Her voice was shrill with nerves. Bernadettefelt her heart twist, a mix of compassion for Mama’s distress and confusion flooding her.
“Why is she calling at the house?” she asked quickly. Nobody had told them to expect Lady Lockwood. Surely, there was no cause for her to visit so soon after bursting in unexpectedly just yesterday evening?
“I don’t know!” Mama said swiftly. “I just need you to be ready to see her ...the butler will bring her up any second.” Mama turned to face the doorway as she said the words, patting her own hair into place nervously. “Hurry and make ready!”
“Mama,” Bernadette began firmly. She was wearing her favorite white day-dress, one so often used that it had a worn patch on the hem, and her hair was arranged in a loose up-style, some of it falling down to her shoulders. It was an informal afternoon and she’d not expected visitors. It would take her half an hour to get ready and they didn’t have that time. She was about to explain when the butler appeared in the doorway. Mama went abruptly pale.
“Lady Rothendale? Miss Rowland? May I present the Countess of Lockwood?”
“Yes,” Mama said, sounding tense and scared. “Good afternoon, my lady.” She dropped a swift curtsey.
“Good afternoon.” Lady Lockwood’s voice was brisk. She curtseyed too, the briefest bob of a knee, and then straightened. She wore a pale gray dress, her long white hair elaborately styled and pearls at her neck. Her gray-eyed gaze held Bernadette. “Ah! There you are. I trust you enjoyed the play.” She didn’t sayanything about her informal appearance, but Bernadette went red anyway.
“I did. Thank you, my lady.” Bernadette curtseyed politely. She couldn’t have said what it was about Lady Lockwood that unsettled her, but whenever she was near her, she felt discomforted in the extreme.
“Good. Good. I came to drop in to take you shopping. I believe some new gowns are in order—a gown for the ball, and one for the upcoming ceremony.”
“My lady...” Bernadette stammered. Lady Lockwood had mentioned this before, but she still didn’t quite believe her. Surely, at best, shouldn’t her own mother be the one to decide her choice of gowns? Since choosing for herself what to wear to the theater, it no longer felt right that someone else chose for her. She wanted to choose for herself.
“Now, no need to be coy. I’m more than glad to do this,” Lady Lockwood said firmly. “It will look good in society if we are seen together more, as well,” she added, fixing Bernadette with a stare. Bernadette looked at her toes uncomfortably. What society thought or did not think was something she preferred not to consider. It was bad enough having to face down theTonat events like the theater play the previous evening.
“Why, Lady Lockwood! You are so kind,” Mama murmured. She came to stand beside Bernadette, taking her hand firmly in her own as if forcing her to align with her view. “It’s an honour that you take our Bernadette shopping.”
“I’m glad to,” Lady Lockwood answered, though Bernadetteheard no gladness. She sounded brisk and stern.
“Well, then! Bernadette. Would you not like to get ready to go shopping with Lady Lockwood?” Mama asked, turning to Bernadette with a wide-eyed look.
Bernadette looked at Lady Lockwood and shrugged.
“I am ready. Best if we don’t wait...I would not wish to waste your ladyship’s time. If you wish to embark immediately, then we will need to go as I am. Otherwise, it will take half an hour.”
“Bernadette...” Mama began. Bernadette breathed in slowly, firm in her decision. She could feel Mama’s anger and disbelief, but she felt as though she could stand against it, as though there was a new strength, a new trust in herself pouring through her veins.
Lady Lockwood’s eyebrows went up.
“Bernadette...at least have your hair restyled,” Mama pleaded. Bernadette looked down at the curls that rested on her shoulders and took a deep breath.
“I will do that,” she agreed. She would feel better not wandering the streets with her hair half-loose. “Excuse me a moment, my lady.”
Lady Lockwood said nothing. Bernadette felt her lips lift at the edges, knowing it was a small victory, but it was a victory, nevertheless.
She walked stiffly from the room. On reaching her ownroom, she shut the door with a sigh of relief and rang the bell for Judy, who came in from the room next door where she’d been working.
“Could you redo my hair, please, Judy?”
“Of course, milady! Sit down, do. I’ll do it straight away. Are you going somewhere special?” Judy asked smilingly.
“Nowhere in particular,” Bernadette murmured. She felt shaken and nervous. It was one thing to challenge Lady Lockwood here in her own home. Being alone with her in Bond Street was going to be different. “There you are,” Judy said warmly as she tucked Bernadette’s curls into place again. “All done.”
“Thank you, Judy,” Bernadette said quietly.
She stood and went into the hallway.
“Ah. You’re ready,” Lady Lockwood greeted her in a clipped voice as she returned to the drawing room. Mama was sitting tensely in the wingback chair opposite the countess, who sat elegantly on the chaise-longue.
“Yes,” Bernadette said mildly.
The coach-ride was mostly silent. Bernadette stared through the window, watching London roll past, pleased they lived not too far from the shopping street. Being stuck in the coach with the countess for longer than a few minutes would be terrible
