Louise Allen: Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

Feeling that everyone was staring at her and expecting at any moment to be accosted, either by some buck with a proposition or an outraged householder ordering her from his respectable street, Tallie finally reached Lady Parry’s door. It was opened with merciful promptness by Rainbird the butler. He allowed a faint expression of surprise to cross his thin face at the sight of the flushed and flustered milliner standing before him with her pile of soiled hatboxes.

‘Miss Grey! Have you been in an accident? Please, step inside at once.’ He stood aside to let her in and snapped his fingers imperiously to the footman, who hurried forward. Tallie relinquished her boxes gratefully and regarded the butler with an expression of rueful apology.

‘I am sorry to arrive in such a state, Rainbird, but I dropped the boxes in the street.’

‘I will ring for the housekeeper, Miss Grey. You will want to wash your hands and have your gown brushed before you see her ladyship, I make no doubt.’ Rainbird approved of Miss Grey, and had so far unbent as to remark on one occasion to Henry the footman, ‘A milliner she might be now, my lad, but she’s a lady for all that she has come down in the world. You just observe her manners: always easy and polite to staff. That comes from breeding and consideration and there are many with a hundred times her income who will never manage that naturally.’

Tallie was just gratefully accepting his offer when a small dark lady wearing a most fetching cap with floating ribbons and a jonquil morning dress, which almost made Tallie forget her woes, emerged into the hall. ‘Miss Grey, good morning. I thought I heard your voice.’

‘Good morning, my lady.’ Tallie bobbed a neat curtsy, conscious of the snapping brown eyes assessing her appearance. ‘I must apologise for arriving in such a state, ma’am, but I had an accident with the boxes.’

‘I was just about to send for Mrs Mills, my lady.’

‘Excellent, Rainbird. You run along with her, Miss Grey, and come down when you feel quite comfortable again. There is no hurry.’ Lady Parry vanished as abruptly as she had appeared and Tallie surrendered herself into the care of the housekeeper who, despite tutting about ruinous mudstains, restored the tired old gown to as good a condition as Tallie could hope for with sponge and badger-bristle brush.

Her cheeks cooled by a splash of water, her hands rinsed and her hair tidied, Tallie hurried downstairs and tapped on Lady Parry’s morning-room door.

‘Come in, Miss Grey, and let me have a look at you.’ Kate Parry was a widow on the wrong side of forty with a son of twenty, a tidy personal fortune and apparently boundless enthusiasm for whatever took her fancy. ‘Sit down and have a glass of Madeira. No, show me no missish reluctance, you have obviously had a shock and coddling your insides with tea or ratafia will not help at all.’

She peered closely at Tallie’s face. ‘Have you been crying, my dear? Were you hurt?’

‘Oh, no, ma’am, only I had the breath knocked out of me for a moment.’ Tallie took a sip of the strong wine, choked a little, then took another. It was certainly soothing to her nerves. ‘It made my eyes water, you see.’ She hesitated. Rainbird had placed the two hatboxes for Lady Parry upon a side-table, having first carefully spread a sheet of the morning paper to protect the polished surface from the mud. ‘I am afraid I dropped your new hats.’

‘How provoking for you! And has your handiwork been spoiled? I do hope not. Never mind, it is more important that you were not hurt. We will look at the hats in a moment: you drink your wine and tell me all about it.’

Thus encouraged by Lady Parry’s warm interest, and perhaps rather more by the unfamiliar glow of the wine, Tallie began her tale.

The foolish decision to walk was easily enough admitted to, and, although Lady Parry shook her head, she did not lecture. She was quite well aware of Tallie’s circumstances, having taken care to draw her out, little by little, during the year that she had been visiting Bruton Street. As a matter of course Kate Parry took considerable interest in most people who came her way, but she found herself particularly in sympathy with the reserved young woman who created such elegant hats for her.

Tallie was as discreet about her own affairs as she was about her other clients, but from the little she did let drop, careful study of the Landed Gentry and a thorough gossip with her old friend Miss Gower, Kate had a clearer picture than Tallie would ever have suspected. Tallie would have been even more surprised to discover that Lady Parry had a scheme in mind for her, but it was not something of which she had the slightest inkling since, for it to come about, something had to happen first to which Lady Parry looked forward with sadness.

She thought about it now and gave a little sigh before fixing her attention on Tallie’s misadventures once again. ‘So you were attracting some unwelcome attention?’ she prompted as Tallie broke off.

‘Yes, but by the time I realised how foolish it was to be walking I was halfway here, so there was no advantage in turning back. Then—’ She broke off, took a deep breath and resumed. ‘I walked straight into a gentleman. And I dropped all the boxes; the one with your special promenade hat rolled into the roadway—and I was quite …’ she searched for a ladylike expression, failed and blurted out ‘… winded.’

Lady Parry suppressed a smile. Poor Miss Grey, it must have been most upsetting for her, but the scene itself sounded not a little amusing. ‘Who was he?’ she enquired, attempting to sound suitably grave.

‘I have no idea,’ Tallie said, then flushed. She could hardly say she knew his first name only—what would Lady Parry think?

‘An elderly gentleman?’ It was said with a wicked twinkle, which Tallie did not fail to notice.

‘No, ma’am. About thirty, perhaps, or a little younger?’ Tallie speculated, wrinkling her straight nose, which Mr Harland always compared favourably to those of the best Greek statues.

Enchanting, Lady Parry thought, watching the play of emotion on Tallie’s face. To have a daughter like that! So attractive, so intelligent. And she would so repay dressing well … ‘And did he assist you?’

‘Yes, ma’am, although he stopped me rescuing the box from the road until it was too late and a carriage struck it.’

‘Yet this gallant gentleman displeased you, and for more than his tardiness with the hatbox, I imagine?’ Now Tallie was blushing in earnest. ‘My goodness, Miss Grey, whatever did he do? Did he take some liberty with you?’ It might well have occurred, for the sort of man who would think nothing of fondling a kitchen maid if she took his fancy would probably be equally free with an attractive young milliner if the chance arose, and he certainly appeared to have ruffled the normally calm and self-controlled Miss Grey.

‘No. Not if you mean did he try and kiss me or make an improper remark, ma’am. But … but when I was cross because of your hat, he looked in the box and guessed how much it cost and he paid me for it, in guineas, right there on the street!’ She swallowed. ‘And people saw him.’

‘Dear me, that was a thoughtless thing for him to have done,’ Lady Parry exclaimed. ‘No wonder you are so angry with him.’ Now what had she said? The girl was as pink as a peony.

‘Yes, but I should not be angry with him, it is very ungrateful of me and I am sure it was just thoughtlessness.’ Tallie was finding herself more confused by the minute about how she regarded Nick. Gallant and quick-witted rescuer or heartless rake, not above trifling with a respectable working girl?

‘I do not think that having the courtesy to pick up your boxes entitles him to sufficient gratitude for you not to be angry at such an imprudent act on his part as to make you the cynosure of all eyes on a public street.’ Rather out of breath with the effort of such a convoluted declaration, Lady Parry sat back and watched Tallie with interest. There was more to her distracted mood than she was revealing, she was sure of it.