Виктория Холт - It began in Vauxhall Gardens

Caroline was like her father in appearance, but in place of his aloofness she had an uncertain temper. She seemed to be continually brooding and she was never satisfied. That came of having so many of the good things of life, thought Miss Pennifield, who herself had very little.

"The set on the shoulders is not right," cried Caroline, shaking back the ringlets which she wore in the fashion set by the young Queen. "It makes the sleeves too short."

"But it seems right to me, dear," said Lady Trevenning. "Do you not think so, Pennifield?"

"Yes, I do, my lady." Miss Pennifield, in the presence of her employer, was a different person from the perky little woman the village knew.

"But it does not!" snapped Caroline. "It is too bunchy here, I tell you. That is not according to the London fashion."

Miss Pennifield, with the tears smarting behind her eyes and the pins pricking through her bodice into which in her agitation she had carelessly stuck them, changed the set of the sleeves.

Wenna, who was hovering about Lady Trevenning to make sure she had her wrap about her shoulders, looked at Caroline and understood all the fears and apprehensions which beset the girl.

Caroline was extra touchy this morning. No amount of resetting the sleeve would satisfy her. Wenna knew it. Her dissatisfaction with the dress was the outward sign of her fear that she would not please Mr. Fermor when he came. My poor little queen! thought Wenna. You be all right. You'm pretty enough. You'm the prettiest creature in the world ... in Wenna's world leastways; and if you're not like the smart ladies to London, well, that be no loss, and I've heard young men be very partial to a change.

Wenna went over to Miss Pennifield.

"Here," she said in her authoritative way, "let me see it, do. Well, what's wrong with that, my precious ? It do look beautiful to me. Why, you won't want the sleeves so long they hide your pretty hands."

Wenna remembered. She remembered everything about her Miss Caroline as she did about her Miss Maud. They were her life; they were her passion. Caroline had come back excited from the trip to London. She was fourteen then and had gone to see the wedding celebrations of the Queen. She had come back full of excitement— not because she had seen the Queen and her Consort but because she had seen Fermor; and she had known then that one day she was to marry Fermor.

Caroline had unburdened herself to Wenna, just as she always had during the days of her childhood. "Come, tell Wenna." That had been their cry at all times—when she was happy or afraid. When she was a little girl and had had bad dreams she would present herself at Wenna's bedside and whisper: "Tell Wenna." Wenna treasured such memories. And during that trip to London Caroline had been captivated by the handsome domineering boy who was only, a few months older than herself. He had finally approved of Caroline, but in a patronizing way. He had even told her she had pretty hands.

So now Wenna was reminding her of this > and she saw the soothing effect her words produced.

"That be right, b'ain't it?" she asked the dressmaker.

"It is indeed," said poor Miss Pennifield.

"Now slip it off and let Miss Pennifield stitch it. And I shouldn't try it on again. My dear life, it'll be spoilt before you wear it. There ... that's right. Now you're looking a little flushed.

I'm going to make you lie down and have a rest before the guests arrive."

"They won't be here for ages, Wenna."

"You never know. Master Fermor will be that eager. Nothing would surprise me."

That pleased her again. The dear sweet creature, thought Wenna. She'm so pretty when she do smile.

Purposefully Wenna helped her to put on her dress.

"I'm not going to lie down," said Caroline. "You foolish woman, do you think I'm an invalid?"

"Very well then. But you'll stop fretting, my handsome, and you'll go and change into your watered silk ... just in case the visitors arrive early. Then take a book and go to the hammock and wait there."

"Wenna, don't order me," said Caroline.

But she went all the same.

Miss Pennifield took the white satin away to the sewing-room with obvious relief, and Wenna was left alone with Lady Trevenning.

"Wenna, I don't know what we should do without you," said Maud, a little tearfully.

She was tearful on all occasions now, it seemed to Wenna; tearful when she was happy, tearful when she was sad, tearful when she was grateful. It was a sign of weakness, Wenna believed; and she knew that it irritated Sir Charles. Wenna disliked all men, but she hated Sir Charles. He had failed to make her mistress happy; Wenna did not know why; he was always courteous and gentle. He spent much time in London, and Wenna believed she knew the purpose of those visits. "Another woman!" she would say to herself. "Nothing would surprise me. He may be deceiving that poor woman as well, for all we know. I vow he's got a regular little love nest tucked away somewhere." The supposed secret woman qualified for her pity when she thought thus; at other times Wenna hated her with a scorn almost as great as that which she had for the master.

"Poor Miss Caroline!" said Wenna tenderly. "She's a little upset. What girl wouldn't be! With her betrothal about to be celebrated and a handsome young man coming all the way from London and all!"

"A handsome young man whom she has only seen a few times, Wenna. I do hope she'll be happy."

"She seems fond of him, Miss Maud, my queen."

"But what does she know of marriage? It reminds me ..."

Wenna nodded. It reminded her too. Her innocent Miss Maud twenty-two years ago entering into marriage with the man her parents had chosen for her.

"There," said Wenna, "you lie back and close your eyes. Here's your hartshorn. I'll sit beside you and finish off your new white petticoat. Then if you do want anything I'll be here."

Maud nodded. She was very docile; and Wenna knew how to manage both her precious ones—Maud and Caroline.

Now she looked into her mistress's face and thought of the young girl of twenty-two years ago—young, like Caroline, flattered, delighted, yet frightened.

If only they knew! thought Wenna angrily.

No man had spoken for her, and she rejoiced in that fact. They had sense enough to know when they met one who was too sharp for them.

She thought of Sir Charles who was in one of his absentminded moods to-day. Wenna guessed something was afoot. She did not quite know what, except that it had something to do with the secret wicked life he led. This morning she had seen a letter lying on his table. It was in a spidery foreign hand. It had come with papers from his solicitors in London. He had said nothing to Miss Maud about it; she would have told Wenna if he had. As if Wenna did not know how to prise their secrets from Maud and Caroline!

Maud was lying back with her eyes shut, the hartshorn held lightly in her delicate fingers. She looked very small and pale. Sir Charles had said: "Maud, if you would only take a little exercise it would do you the world of good." And poor Miss Maud had ridden to hounds and come back exhausted, so that Wenna had had to nurse her with her possets and her remedies.

Wenna, knitting the thick woollen stockings she made for herself or stitching at the undergarments which she made for her mistress— she would not allow Miss Pennifield to make her ladyship's undergarments—would jab her sewing needle into fine linen as though it were a rapier with which to attack the master, or click her knitting needles as though they were clashing swords.

She imagined the shameful things he must be doing with his secret woman in London. Her mental disparagement of Sir Charles grew in proportion to her love for Miss Maud.

When she had been young—one of many children living in one of the cottages by the quay—and they had been glad to get her into one of the big houses, her parents had said: "We'd like to see Wenna settled, for she'll never find a husband." And wouldn't want one! thought Wenna fiercely. I get on like a barn afire without.