“Th’arpsichord? I need ter learn somethin’ about music?”
“That is part of being a lady, yes. And, perhaps most importantly, you must learn to comport yourself in company. We will start immediately. Tonight you will join Grey and myself at dinner.”
“Oh,” Jenny began, “I would rather—”
Catherine cut her off sharply. “What you want is irrelevant. You will do what I tell you to do. I fully intend to transform you into a credit to yourself and to the Greyson name—whether you like it or not.”
A few hours later Jennifer’s hair, long and thick though it was, had dried in front of the fire. Having found a dark green silk gown that could be pinned up hastily, Catherine laced Jennifer into it, using a long, slender, silver bodkin to lace the stays, then stood back and admired her handiwork.
“ ’Tis too tight,” Jennifer objected, the discomfort of having her stomach and ribs pressed in overcoming her normal reticence. She had never had to wear stays or hoops before, and they felt terribly confining.
“Ladies wear stays,” Catherine replied in a voice that brooked no argument. She walked around the girl and nodded, looking pleased with herself. “Your hoops are too wide, of course, since narrower hoops have come into fashion since this gown was made. But no matter, we willget you new gowns. You will do very well, after all. You may have none of the appropriate social graces, but those can be learned, and I expect you to learn them. But you already have something that cannot be learned.”
Jennifer seemed surprised to discover that she actually possessed something of value. “I do?”
Catherine nodded, and for the first time her stern features relaxed into a smile. “You do,” she affirmed. “You have beauty.”
She was startled when the girl turned her back and walked away. Following the girl to the window, she inquired, more gently than was her wont, “What is the matter?”
“Yer laughin’ at me,” Jennifer said. There was no bitterness in her voice, no rancor, only a flat statement of fact. It occurred to Catherine that she fully expected to be laughed at, that she accepted it as a normal part of life, and that it would never occur to her to resent it.
Nonetheless, she hastened to reassure the girl. “Of course I am not laughing at you, Jennifer. I’m laughing at Grey.”
Now the girl turned, her eyebrows lifted questioningly. Knowing that she would not verbalize her curiosity, Catherine explained, “You must have realized by now that Grey brought you here only because you were the most inappropriate woman he could find to wed.”
Jennifer nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing. She had come to understand Grey’s motives over the past few hours, but to hear it stated so baldly was nevertheless humiliating.
“What Grey did not realize,” Catherine went on, “was that underneath the dirt and homespun gown, you are actually quite lovely.” At Jennifer’s expression of disbelief, she pulled the younger woman across to the looking glass atop the twilight.
“Look at yourself,” she commanded.
Jennifer stared at her reflection doubtfully. Certainly the gown improved her appearance, despite its poor fit.The stays did a good deal to give her a semblance of a figure, and the low-cut, square neckline emphasized what little cleavage she had. But her face, although cleaner, seemed much the same to her. She lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion.
“How can you not see it?” Catherine said in exasperation. Scrubbed and coiffed and laced into a decent gown, the girl was more than beautiful, she was stunning. Incredibly dark green eyes stared out from beneath arching golden eyebrows. Her face was a perfect oval, and her nose was small and straight, the nose that Catherine had always dreamed of having. Her hair, a shimmering amber rather than the mousy brown it had appeared when unwashed, was arranged simply but elegantly. She was small and slender, but far from
“That is part of being a lady, yes. And, perhaps most importantly, you must learn to comport yourself in company. We will start immediately. Tonight you will join Grey and myself at dinner.”
“Oh,” Jenny began, “I would rather—”
Catherine cut her off sharply. “What you want is irrelevant. You will do what I tell you to do. I fully intend to transform you into a credit to yourself and to the Greyson name—whether you like it or not.”
A few hours later Jennifer’s hair, long and thick though it was, had dried in front of the fire. Having found a dark green silk gown that could be pinned up hastily, Catherine laced Jennifer into it, using a long, slender, silver bodkin to lace the stays, then stood back and admired her handiwork.
“ ’Tis too tight,” Jennifer objected, the discomfort of having her stomach and ribs pressed in overcoming her normal reticence. She had never had to wear stays or hoops before, and they felt terribly confining.
“Ladies wear stays,” Catherine replied in a voice that brooked no argument. She walked around the girl and nodded, looking pleased with herself. “Your hoops are too wide, of course, since narrower hoops have come into fashion since this gown was made. But no matter, we willget you new gowns. You will do very well, after all. You may have none of the appropriate social graces, but those can be learned, and I expect you to learn them. But you already have something that cannot be learned.”
Jennifer seemed surprised to discover that she actually possessed something of value. “I do?”
Catherine nodded, and for the first time her stern features relaxed into a smile. “You do,” she affirmed. “You have beauty.”
She was startled when the girl turned her back and walked away. Following the girl to the window, she inquired, more gently than was her wont, “What is the matter?”
“Yer laughin’ at me,” Jennifer said. There was no bitterness in her voice, no rancor, only a flat statement of fact. It occurred to Catherine that she fully expected to be laughed at, that she accepted it as a normal part of life, and that it would never occur to her to resent it.
Nonetheless, she hastened to reassure the girl. “Of course I am not laughing at you, Jennifer. I’m laughing at Grey.”
Now the girl turned, her eyebrows lifted questioningly. Knowing that she would not verbalize her curiosity, Catherine explained, “You must have realized by now that Grey brought you here only because you were the most inappropriate woman he could find to wed.”
Jennifer nodded slowly, her cheeks flushing. She had come to understand Grey’s motives over the past few hours, but to hear it stated so baldly was nevertheless humiliating.
“What Grey did not realize,” Catherine went on, “was that underneath the dirt and homespun gown, you are actually quite lovely.” At Jennifer’s expression of disbelief, she pulled the younger woman across to the looking glass atop the twilight.
“Look at yourself,” she commanded.
Jennifer stared at her reflection doubtfully. Certainly the gown improved her appearance, despite its poor fit.The stays did a good deal to give her a semblance of a figure, and the low-cut, square neckline emphasized what little cleavage she had. But her face, although cleaner, seemed much the same to her. She lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion.
“How can you not see it?” Catherine said in exasperation. Scrubbed and coiffed and laced into a decent gown, the girl was more than beautiful, she was stunning. Incredibly dark green eyes stared out from beneath arching golden eyebrows. Her face was a perfect oval, and her nose was small and straight, the nose that Catherine had always dreamed of having. Her hair, a shimmering amber rather than the mousy brown it had appeared when unwashed, was arranged simply but elegantly. She was small and slender, but far from
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