To England, With Love

Chapter VII: A Tale Of Pins and Inquisitive Things

The Chatsworth House ~ September 1818

After Bella's umpteenth helping of chai in Caroline's parlour, she was relieved for a change of company and glad for a implicit tour of the sprawling castle.

Bella bid farewell to Caroline with a parting touch of the cheek until their tryst later on, after dinner. The Lady of Chatsworth, all and after, had to continue her needlework studies with one of the many governesses at her disposal.

Bella walked down the deserted, well-lit corridors of Caroline's wing until she caught sight of familiar faces.

"My Lady," two women, one with hair as spun gold and another with brass hair curtsied lightly as proper salutation upon Bella's proximity.

It was Anne and Mary respectively, her ladies-in-waiting.

"Hello ladies," Bella tipped her head in recognition with a grin, "you called for me?"

Mary smiled shyly as she oft did, Anne spoke up for their presence.

"The Royal Devonshire seamstress has arrived to take your measurements all the way from France."

Bella arched her brow haughtily, "Well what are we waiting for? He sounds like an occupied man, let us go to meet him."

Both ladies were shocked at this reply, the knowing looks they shared completely dissolving.

"Forgive me, My Lady. You know the sex of our seamstress?"

She smiled cheekily, "Did you want me to faint with fright upon seeing him? Lady St. Jules informed me earlier at our private tea. What a marvel!"

Anne nodded vigorously and began to walk ahead of Bella, "Yes, My Lady. His designs befitted that of kings and queens. Duchess Maria Josepha of Saxony tried to bribe him from the services of our Duke, but he saw no need for that. He services them both."

Bella was amazed. Was this the standard of living she was to now embrace? Brunches with the ton, tea with Duchesses and clothes fit for royalty? In short sight, this splendor would be more than appealing, but in the long run, Bella would come to learn that this was naught all she was to amass from her existence. She was destined for severe economic and political greatness of her own making, not the Devonshire lavish lifestyle that was so apparently not earned within the first two days spent in the castle.

"What is to become of Mary, then? If Mr. Dubois is to, from now on, make my apparel?"

Bella was rightfully concerned. Mary has proved herself to be wonderfully competent, but it seemed as though Caroline's Mr. Dubois was more so, otherworldly. His designs were unmatched in apparent. Bella had seen the Duchess Dowager and Caroline in his creations, and they were comely, very comely indeed.

Both Anne and Mary tittered, the least expected reaction from them both and then, the rarest thing occurred. Mary spoke up, in quiet, shadowed whispers as one would expect, but spoke up none-the-less.

"I am to become his apprentice, his understudy so to speak."

Bella attempted to keep a cheerful visage, yet it was still somewhat of bad news.

"So, you will naught remain as my abigail for much longer?"

Mary shyly looked underneath her lashes as though she had displeased someone, which she had.

Anne represented her friend once more, "My Lady, this matter is to be discussed with Mr. Casterly at a later time, perhaps?" The slight woman dusted off her uniform out of habit and beamed as brightly as she could.