A Lady's Point of View Read Free Page B

rooms in
posting houses. From there, she and Karen, who was to accompany her, would hire
a post chaise to Derby.
    On Friday, Meg sorted carefully
through her gowns, choosing those of darker colours and more severe styles. She
selected practical fabrics—kerseymere and chintz, bombazine and calico.
    “You’ve no need to go about
looking like a spinster,” Angela protested when she entered and saw the dresses
her sister had laid out.
    “Don’t be nonsensical,” said Meg,
returning a gown of pink crepe to the wardrobe. “What would I do with these
fripperies in Derby? The Barkers would prate of sinful dress until my head
ached.” As fashion decreed, the gowns displayed an unseemly amount of bosom and
clung to the figure, even when not dampened.
    Angela laughed. “Well, I
certainly can’t wear them. I’m half a stone lighter than you and two inches
shorter.”
    But they would have to be made over to fit Angela,
though Meg saw no point in telling her sister that now. Perhaps Lady Mary could
find the funds for a few new dresses; otherwise Angela would certainly be
disappointed.
    “I believe I’ve picked out the
appropriate clothing,” Meg said as she selected matching gloves, shoes, shawls,
ribbons, reticules, cloaks and pelisses.
    After Angela departed, Meg ticked
off on her fingers the tasks that had been accomplished. She had written her
apology to Mr. Brummell, Lady Mary had dashed off a note to the Barkers
regarding the impending arrival, the clothes had been selected …Ah, yes, her
books!
    A short while later, Meg was
returning to her chamber with an armload of her favourite novels and poetry,
when she encountered Karen in the hall. “Please, miss, may I speak with you
privately?” the girl asked.
    “Why, yes, of course.” Puzzled, Meg entered the
room. Could it be that Karen objected to travelling back with her? Possibly the
girl had acquired a suitor here in London. But Meg vaguely recalled that Karen
was betrothed to a young man in Derby. Or had he moved from there with his
employer?
    The maid cleared her throat and
stood with her hands in back, clearly trying to work up the courage to speak.
    “Come now, Karen, we’ve known
each other for years,” said Meg. “You’ve no need to be afraid.”
    “Well, miss”--the girl peered at
her anxiously--”It’s this way. My beau, Peter, he’s been working in Liverpool.”
    “Yes?’’ Meg tried to sound
encouraging.
    “His master sails for Canada in
two weeks’ time, and Peter must go with him, for he can find no other work.”
Karen uttered the words in one gusty breath. “He wants to marry me and take me
along.”
    “I see.” Meg sank into a chair.
“You’ve waited until the last minute to take your leave of us, Karen.”
    “I didn’t see how I was to get there,” the maid
pressed on, her tongue loosened at last. “I haven’t enough blunt, and neither
has he. So I thought all was lost, but now I’ve enough to get from Manchester
to Liverpool, begging your pardon, miss.”
    Meg began to understand. “So you
want to leave me in Manchester to make the last stage of my journey alone?”
    “Oh, please, miss.” Karen looked
as if she might kneel to make her plea, an alarming prospect to Meg. “I know
it’s a disloyal notion. A young lady like yourself mustn’t travel alone. But I
thought, well, if I hired the post chaise in Manchester for you, what harm
could befall you twixt there and Derby?”
    What harm indeed, Meg reflected.
Society would be scandalized by such goings-on, but they need never know of it.
As for the Barkers, they would object to almost anything she did; it was
impossible to please folk with such starched-up notions.
    Although she didn’t recall Peter
clearly, she could see how Karen’s face shone when she spoke of him. Why should
a girl be deprived of a lifetime of happiness merely because she lacked coach
fare between London and Liverpool?
    “Very well,” Meg said. “But you
must say nothing of this to anyone. Not