When the sun eventually
broke through the cloud cover, it did so fairly abruptly. Storm
clouds had gathered overnight and it was only a heavy wind clearing
it that allowed the sunlight through. Helen and Rose breakfasted in a
private parlour, one of three that the inn was furnished with. Rose
had slept excellently apart from the brief disturbance Helen had
caused and, as was her wont, Rose refrained from even alluding to it
or her otherwise peaceful night. Helen's nightmares had started when
their mother died and the nights she spent uninterrupted were few and
far between. Today she looked particularly haggared b the experience
– a combination of poor sleep and travel- induced nausea had
wreaked havoc on her delicate constitution.
Rose had cared for her
sister wherever she could since, and had rapidly learned that not
only did He;en fear her dreams, she feared what would happen if
anyone else knew the content. She point blank refused to discuss them
with her sister, and Rose let it lie. Rose also knew that however muh
Helen needed sleep, at the first signs of a dream starting, she
wanted to be woken. When she slept through a dream in its entirety,
she inevitably wet the bed and the mortification at home had been so
unbearable that when they went to school together, Helen had begged
Rose for her help. They had kept that understanding for the last two
years and it was now foremost in Rose's mind – although she would
not mention it to her – that in their aunt's home it was unlikely
they would share a room.
Helen was roused from
her abstracted, exhausted demeanour by the arrival of a waiter who
was clearly accustomed to ladies wilting in the inn. He gently
prepared breakfast on the table before them, instead of filling the
sideboards as was customary and ensured both ladies had tea and
chocolate to hand before he left.
Helen picked
desultorily t the cold cuts and eggs laid before her. Rose tore
through a substantial breakfast with the enthusiasm of a wholly
healthy girl. IT was oddly at this time that the physical
similarities between the girls became most obvious – typically,
Helen was so quiet, pale and wan beside her flourishing sister that
most people even denied they had the same colouring. Now however, one
could see both had the same pale skin and black hair – although
Rose's lustrous curls both literally and figuratively outshone
Helen's dull straight locks. They had the same large, almond shaped
eyes – Rose's violet and Helen's grey. Both had slim straight noses
and full lips in which the only difference that could be detected was
the colour: Helen seemed perpetually grey tinted while Rose favoured
her namesake with a healthy blush.
Their cheekbones and
jawlines were also matched, and it was this that made them seem so
similar while eating and drinking. While eyes and lips were disguised
by crockery and cutlery and emotional expression was obfuscated by
chewing, they seemed almost identical.
They sat silently –
apart from the sounds of Rose's overenthusiastic mastication – for
ten or fifteen minutes before a flurry of activity was heard from the
room adjacent to theirs. A door opened and a woman was heard to
declare her joyful opinion of tea and hot rolls on such a miserable
morning. Her following proclamation of thanks and affection suggested
the presence of a male companion who had helped seat her. She
summarily dispatched him to retrieve her specified breakfast items
and launched into idle chatter about the inn, their journey, the
people she expected on the other end of the road and a number of
other matters which her companion expressed absolutely no interest in
– although in fairness to him he wasn't given much chance to speak.
At some point there was
a brief cessation in her chatter – presumably to enable her to eat
something and in the quiet his voice finally appeared – speaking
without force or rancour he calmly stated “Georgiana, dear, I love
you beyond measure, but if you don't cease your idle chatter at the
breakfast table I will dump you in the first ditch we find.”
Her ripple of laughter
in response was silvery and musical and enraptured Helen who thought
it was the most breathtaking sound she had ever heard. Rose had
already been unashamedly eavesdropping but now Helen joined her.
Together they exchanged grins at the witticisms and banter passed
between the two who abused each other horrifically under an evident
and sincere love for one another. A few moments after she accused him
of having a dependency on his morning paper for protection “not
protection, my dear, aggression. I know how it infuriates you.”
“Oh, yes of course! I
just recalled - it's no wonder you're in such a foul mood. I was
woken up by that racket as well. For a short while I thought it was
something to do with you but Jenny told me this morning it was a
schoolgirl having nightmares. Were you tormented by the sounds?”
“Georgiana dear, you
know that would be ridiculous. Particularly as I'm wholly absorbed in
escorting you.”
“Thank you, beloved,
I'm very reassured.” Her tone was sardonic. “I must admit though,
I have little faith in your interest in being focused on me and can
only hope you won't deposit me in Bath and flee even before I'm
unpacked.”
“As your purpose in
going to Bath is to find amenable company, wouldn't I rather get in
the way?”
“You never get in the
way, my dear. You do rile and irritate, but you are always useful in
some way. I only hope to find such a husband one day.”
“that, my dear, will
never happen. I am unique and you and I shall never wed.”
Her chuckle rippled out
again. “Once again, I'm very reassured!”
“To return to your
original question however, I was woken up by something and went for a
brief walk. I did see a young female – not your schoolgirl, I think
as she seemed rather towards her late twenties than late teens and
she was certainly immodest enough to press up against a window in her
night shift. If we were to stay, you might have had cause for concern
through my relation with her.”
In the next room, Helen
went white then scarlet. Rose stared at her in horror as her eyes
filled with shameful tears.
Helen felt nothing. For
one blessed moment she was so entirely shocked that this could have
happened that she felt nothing at all. Then her world came crashing
down. Mortification that he had seen her, horror at his response,
disgust at herself for allowing it to happen; all these things
bubbled up and her eyes began to burn. Her breath seized in her lungs
and she began to shiver violently. Leaping into action, Rose seized a
nearby blanket, flung it over her sister and vigorously rang the bell
for a waiter. With an urgency that leant her authority she instructed
the waiter to provide hartshorn and burnt feathers before instructing
their maid that they were leaving at the earliest opportunity.
There was no more
audible conversation from the adjoining room, but neither Helen nor
Rose noticed. They were both consumed: one by care and the
practicalities, the other by horror as it seemed that all of the
worst parts of her nightmares were returning to haunt her at once.
She was hustled and bustled into the carriage, in which their driver
had placed several hot bricks, and which the maid had stacked to
ensure Helen would be warmed and supported by plenty of cushions.
With the aid of the waiter, the party ensured Helen was safely
ensconced in her corner of the carriage, then Rose clambered in and
the maid organised all other aspects with ruthless efficiency before
they departed.
From his room in the
inn, Lord George Carstairs watched as the carriage trundled away. He
was a reckless man, but he was not insensitive and although he had
initially been irritated by the chaos from the girls' parlour
assuming it to be the hysteria of a spinster; once he discovered that
it was, in truth the schoolgirls, he had been deeply distressed that
his words – intended only to put Georgiana to blush – had reached
innocent ears to such a shocking degree. He also made a point of
honour to never trifle with any woman unaware of the game and under
ordinary circumstances would not have spoken in such a way about any
schoolgirl, regardless of what he thought of her behaviour.
Castigating himself, he
acknowledged that he would never be able to apologise – he had no
way of tracking the girl and to approach her at a later date and
apologise for such addresses would only serve to mortify her further.
He sighed, dismissed it (as far as he was able) from his mind and
returned to the issue of escorting Georgiana – the most irritating
female he'd ever had to spend his life with – to her new home in
Bath. The thought fleeted into his mind that the schoolgirls were
going the opposite way – most likely from a Bath seminary to London
for the season, but he rapidly dismissed it as irrelevant and
refocussed.
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