Anne O'Brien - The Outrageous Debutante

Lady Beatrice sighed and shuffled on her chair. This was going to be just as difficult as she had expected. Theodora had a most unfortunate strength of will. And her mama had apparently encouraged her to exert it with flair and confidence at every possible opportunity. The Evening’s Kiss had been so pretty …

They were interrupted from any further discussion over the maligned gown by a slight, dark lady coming into the room. Her face was thin, her features narrow and prematurely lined, but her eyes were quick and assessing of the situation.

‘Madame Therese.’ Lady Beatrice hailed her in the light of a saviour. ‘Yours is just the advice we need. Here we have Miss Wooton-Devereux who is to go about in society. She is reluctant to wear the dresses we have seen that are suitable for a young girl who is to make her début. Perhaps you can persuade her where we have failed.’

Madame Therese smiled a greeting. ‘I will try. Let us consider what we might achieve for the lady.’ Her accented voice was genuine. A French emigrée who had fled from her home in Paris, she had been forced to sell her skills. She had a decided air of fashion and an excellent eye for what would suit, so she was soon in demand when she opened her select little establishment in the heart of Mayfair. Rumour said that she had been a countess in her past life. It added a cachet so she did not disabuse her customers.

‘Come, mademoiselle .’ She took Thea’s hand to draw her to her feet. ‘If you would stand. And turn a little. You have an excellent figure, if I might venture. And such a slender neck. It will show to good advantage in the low necklines that are so fashionable this year. And with your hair so short— c’est magnifique . You are tall enough to carry the slender skirts with style. I think we shall manage very well. Tell me what you would choose to wear.’

The result was a comfortable and detailed conversation between Madame Therese and Miss Wooton-Devereux, which resulted in the hovering assistant being dispatched to collect a number of garments from the workroom at the back.

‘You are not the traditional débutante, not the shy ingenue . I agree.’ Madame Therese spoke her thoughts. ‘I think we should—ah, experiment a little. I believe that we should try for a little restrained sophistication. For youth, of course, but with a layer of confidence. We will keep it simple but add a little gloss—how you say—town bronze.’ She nodded, pleased with the direction of her thoughts. ‘What a challenge it will be to promote a new style for a young lady who is not merely a child. I think that we might take the town by storm. I vow that you will wear any of my creations with panache, mademoiselle ’

‘I do not think that we wish to draw too much attention …’ Lady Drusilla was quietly horrified. It would take little to encourage Thea. Taking anything by storm was not a careful mama’s intention. A quiet, demure introduction would be much more the thing and far more likely to attract the titled gentleman she had in mind.

‘No, no, Mama.’ Thea’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm for the first time since they had set foot inside the establishment. ‘Madame Therese understands perfectly.’

‘I do indeed.’ The dark eyes reflected the sparkle. ‘There is no need for concern, my lady,’ she was quick to reassure Lady Drusilla. ‘We shall consider nothing outrageous or unseemly. All will be tasteful and elegant. Now. Might I suggest …’

The next hour passed rapidly. An array of dresses appeared as if by magic for mademoiselle to try. Dresses for morning wear, for afternoon visits, for walking or driving in Hyde Park. Silk spencers for when the day was inclement. Gowns for an informal soirée at home, or an evening at Almack’s. Even for a formal ball with a matching cloak and satin slippers. The prevailing style suited Thea to perfection, Judith had to admit with only a hint of jealousy, as she watched her new friend execute a sedate twirl in a high-waisted, low-necked column of shimmering gold with a transparent gauze overskirt. She was as tall and stately, as coolly elegant, as a regale lily until you saw the flash of fire, of sheer enjoyment in those dark blue eyes.

The gowns were, as Madame Therese had promised, simply constructed, with little decoration except for some silk lace to trim, a row of scallops or a neat ruche of ruffles. Perhaps a little satin ribbon or tiny pearl buttons, but nothing outré . But what an air. What style. And in such colours. Celestial blue, as deep as a robin’s egg. A rich, clear pink, nothing like Maiden’s Blush , but one which glowed like a newly unfurled rose in morning sunshine.

Thea was even talked into the palest of eau de nil silk, Breath of the Sea , she was assured—deliciously enhanced by an overskirt of spangled lace. It glittered as the light caught the spangles, gleamed as if under water where the light refracted into a million facets, turning her into a veritable mermaid. Who could resist such gowns?

Finally Madame Therese stood back, hands folded in complete satisfaction.

‘ Enchanté! It has been a pleasure to dress you, mademoiselle .’

If she knew the fashion world, as she undoubtedly did, she would wager the cost of the deep blue gown, which, at this moment, was turning Thea into the breathtaking image of a stately but delicate delphinium, that there would be any number of mamas wearing a path to her door to demand that she dress their daughters in such understated but sophisticated glory. But not all would carry off such simplicity as superbly as Mademoiselle Wooton-Devereux.

And as Sir Hector was generous to a fault where his daughter was concerned, Thea had no compunction in giving in to overwhelming temptation and purchasing a number of gowns for immediate delivery to Upper Brook Street.

There was relief on all sides. Not least Lady Beatrice, who responded to the final decisions as if she herself had achieved the unachievable. Miss Wooton-Devereux was now presentable. She raised the lorgnette, admiring a delectable cream and gold creation, most discreet, with a ruched satin border and a neckline enhanced by tiny satin pleats. And if it was made known—the quietest of whispers, in confidence, would do the trick—that the lady was set to inherit a considerable fortune from her beloved papa, Lady Drusilla might just achieve her heart’s desire. Theodora might prove to be quite irresistible.

‘I think that you are now ready to be presented, Theodora.’ Lady Beatrice inclined her head in approval, the ostrich plumes in her bonnet nodding.

‘So do I.’ Thea surveyed herself in the long mirror. Her lips curved. Her mother had been right. London had much to recommend it.

Lady Aston’s drum was everything that Lady Beatrice Faringdon anticipated it to be and more.

Dazzling. Crowded. Humming with gossip, intrigue and comment. Attended by every member of the haut ton who happened to be in London. Lady Aston would be able to crow with delight to the discomfiture of other hostesses who had enjoyed far less success since the beginning of the Season. It provided an excellent opportunity to bring Miss Theodora Wooton-Devereux to the combined and critical attention of the Polite World and launch her into society.

‘Are you nervous?’ Judith asked. ‘You don’t appear to be so. How lowering!’ Thea and Judith waited in a little anteroom as a flock of servants descended to relieve the party of their evening wraps. ‘I remember some of my first balls and soirées. I was horribly nervous, almost so much that I did not enjoy them. Once I spilt a whole glass of lemonade, all down the front of a new gown. It was very expensive with Brussels lace over the bodice and—’ She caught the amused glint in Thea’s eyes. Short though their acquaintance might be, Judith’s obsession with pretty clothes was an open secret. ‘Well! Anyway, Mama was furious and threatened not to let me out of the schoolroom again until I could behave with more elegance.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I suppose I was too naïve for words, but I was only seventeen.’