Vixens. Bertrice Small

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      “I believe she will,” he said, wondering even as he spoke what was going on upstairs in his house right now.

      Fancy had followed her grandmother obediently from the hall. She was tired, but the worst was over. She had crossed an ocean in surprising safety and traveled from London to meet her relations. And she had liked them all upon their first meeting. She knew far more of them, she realized, than they did of her. Her mother had never ceased to speak of her family in England and Scotland. It had always been very obvious to Fancy that her mother’s siblings were most dear to her. Of course her memories were of young men and women, little boys, and an infant sister named Autumn. But now all of those siblings were well into their middle years, even the baby sister whom Fortune never knew.

      Her grandmother stopped before a carved oak door and opened it, stepping through. Fancy trailed after her, and there was Bess Trueheart waiting with a smile. Fancy let her gaze sweep the chamber. It was large, the walls paneled in an old-fashioned manner, but there was a large fireplace, already blazing brightly on this late afternoon; and there was a big leaden-paned bow window with a seat in it. The room was decorated with velvet draperies at the windows, of rich turquoise blue with gold fringe and rope tiebacks. The furniture was sturdy oak, well polished and obviously comfortable. The floors were covered with a thick wool carpet of turquoise and cream.

      “How lovely!” Fancy exclaimed, pleased, and she bent to sniff at a bowl of late roses on a table.

      “It was my room when I first came to Queen’s Malvern,” Jasmine replied. “Of course it has been redecorated since that long-ago time,” she concluded with a smile.

      “Come into your bedchamber, mistress,” Bess beckoned. “There be another fine fireplace here too, and a bed big enough for a large family, I’ll vow.” She ushered Fancy into the room.

      It was, Fancy saw at once, every bit as lovely as the previous chamber, but she was surprised. “Two rooms? For my very own?” she wondered aloud. It was certainly not this way in Maryland where she and each of her siblings had had a bedchamber for themselves, and not one as spacious as this suite was.

      “It is called an apartment,” Jasmine explained. “It is the custom in great houses to have a dayroom and a bedchamber.”

      “Mama never told me that,” Fancy admitted.

      “What did she speak about when she spoke of England?” Jasmine asked her granddaughter.

      “She spoke of her family mainly,” Fancy answered.

      Jasmine nodded. “I wonder if she missed us as much as we missed her. I still cannot believe that I let my precious child go so far from us. I thought perhaps she might come home to visit one day, but then the troubles began, and King Charles I was executed. The years of the so-called Commonwealth were difficult. I took my youngest daughter and went to France after my Jemmie was killed in the Stuart cause. I could not bear to remain at Glenkirk after that.”

      “Mama has been very happy, Grandmama,” Fancy said. “I think only if she lost Papa would things change for her. She is, I believe, very much like you in many ways.” Suddenly Fancy hugged Jasmine. “You have made me feel so welcome,” she told the older woman. “Thank you!”

      “Why, my dear child,” Jasmine exclaimed, “you are my granddaughter, even if today is the first time I have laid eyes upon you. I have known you, your brothers, and your sisters through your mother’s correspondence, but I will admit that I am right glad to finally have you here with us, even if it is tragedy that has brought you. We will wipe away those awful memories for you, my darling Fancy.”

      “What do you know?” Fancy asked her grandmother tremulously. Her voice had begun to quaver, and tears sprang to her eyes.

      “Your mother has told me everything,” Jasmine said. “No one else in the family is privy to that information, nor will they be unless you decide to share it with them one day. We will speak no more on it, my child.” She enfolded Fancy into her embrace, and kissed her gently upon each of her cheeks. “This is England, and you are here to make a fresh start. The misfortunes of last June are behind you.”

      Fancy hugged her grandmother back. “Thank you, Grandmama,” she said softly. “I am still coming to terms with what happened. I cannot believe I was so foolish as to fall in love with a man who did not deserve my love. He was so handsome, and so charming, and everyone envied me. He was, after all, a Virginia Randolph.”

      “I suppose,” Jasmine remarked dryly, “that in the Colonies that means something, but here in England it does not, dear child. And more young women than not have fallen in love with the perfect man only to discover that the apple has a rather large worm. You are quite fortunate to have been freed of your worm so you might begin anew.”

      Fancy giggled. “Somehow thinking of Parker as a nasty worm helps me put everything in perspective.”

      “Men, dear child, are best kept in perspective and taken with a grain of salt,” Jasmine advised. “Now, I shall leave you to get some rest. Bess will bring your supper here in your apartment so you may escape for tonight, at least, the questions your cousins Cynara and Diana are undoubtedly dying to ask you. I think you must be well rested before you are thrown into the company of those two vixens.”

      “I already like them,” Fancy said. “We look so much alike but are all so very different, it would seem.”

      “You will become good friends, of that I am certain,” Jasmine assured her granddaughter. “I shall come and visit you after dinner to make certain that you are comfortable. Bess Trueheart will take good care of you, I know.”

      “She already has, Grandmama,” Fancy replied. “How clever of you to pick just the right serving woman for me before we even met.”

      “I told you, my child, I know you from your mother’s letters,” Jasmine reminded the girl. She smiled. “I shall return later.” Then she left the bedchamber, and Fancy heard the door of the dayroom that opened into the hallway close.

      Bess bustled in. “A nice hot bath, Mistress Fancy?”

      “Oh, yes!” came the enthusiastic reply.

      “Let me get your skirts and bodice off,” Bess said, “and then I’ll see to the bath while you take a wee nap.”

      Fancy nodded. It all sounded wonderful to her. She stood still while Bess unlaced her bodice, removed it, and then undid the tapes of her skirt. Fancy stepped out of the puddle of material, and Bess next pulled the laces loose that held up her many petticoats. They fell to the floor with a slight hiss. Fancy stepped over them, now clad only in her lace-trimmed chemise.

      “You get into bed, mistress,” Bess instructed her, gathering up the pile of garments. “When your bath is ready, I’ll wake you.”

      “Oh, I won’t sleep,” Fancy said.

      “Well, just close your eyes then, and rest,” Bess suggested. Then she hurried from the room with Fancy’s clothing, closing the door behind her.

      What kind of a tub would it be? Fancy wondered, closing her eyes. The tub she had bathed in at home was oak and comfortably large. Her mother had always believed in almost-daily bathing, although Fancy knew that other people thought her mother overfastidious. Her eyes closed. Everybody was so nice to her, she thought. The duke and his pretty wife. Her grandmother. Her cousin Diana. And Cynara. She had never СКАЧАТЬ