why she was going up there?’ Cecily frowned, looked puzzled.
‘Oh, heavens, Mother! I think I know why,’ Edward announced. ‘I’ve suddenly remembered. She told me her friend Lillian Jameson is being given a spring ball for her sixteenth birthday. Meg said she was going to look in those trunks up there—’ Edward broke off, glanced at the door which had opened to admit his sister.
‘There you are, darling!’ Cecily exclaimed, rising, moving towards her daughter Margaret. ‘I was just wondering where you were and Ned said you’d probably gone to look in those old trunks.’
‘Yes, I did, Mama,’ Meg answered, gliding into the room; she was as graceful as her mother, and she looked pretty this morning in a red wool dress, black stockings and black shoes.
Cecily knew Meg was blossoming into a very pretty girl indeed, and smiling at her youngest daughter, she murmured, ‘You didn’t mention that Lady Jameson is giving a spring ball for Lillian’s birthday.’
‘It’s not actually definite yet, Mother. The invitations haven’t gone out. And they won’t for weeks and weeks. If it happens at all. Well, you see…Lillian is hoping, and so am I. It might be rather fun, don’t you think? However, her mother hasn’t actually said yes.’
‘Are boys going to be invited?’ George asked, sitting up straighter, staring at her intently.
Meg laughed. ‘You’re incorrigible, George, truly incorrigible. Imagine you thinking you could be invited.’
‘Why not? I’m a Deravenel. We’re invited everywhere.’
‘The likes of Papa, not you,’ Meg said with cool authority. ‘You’re too young to go to cotillions, dances, that sort of thing.’
‘No, I’m not, am I, Mother?’ He gave her an appealing look.
‘Well, George, perhaps…at this moment, let’s say. By the spring you’ll certainly be a little older,’ Cecily replied quietly, wanting to mollify him.
‘There, you see, Margaret! Our mother says because I’ll be older by spring I could go. I’ll think about it, and maybe I will come after all…I shall give it considered thought, as Papa always says.’
Edward chuckled. ‘I hope you’ll ensure I get an invitation, Meg,’ he teased, winking at his sister, wanting to make light of all this, since George looked sulky.
She laughed and nodded. ‘Of course I will. And if you come you’ll be the envy of every other man there.’
He looked surprised. ‘Why?’
‘Because all the young women will be falling at your feet,’ George announced. ‘Everybody says you’re a ladykiller.’
‘That’s enough, George,’ Cecily cut in, although she spoke mildly. ‘None of that type of vulgarity here, if you please.’ Turning to Meg, she asked, ‘Well, did you find anything interesting in the trunks?’
‘Oh, yes, Mama, I did: some wonderful frocks, all beautifully packed away in cotton bags. They’re like new. Will you come and look?’
‘I’ll be happy to,’ Cecily answered, taking her daughter’s arm. Laughing, the two of them went out together.
The attics at Ravenscar were large, and ran the entire length of the house, under the eaves. Since she was such a stickler for cleanliness and perfect order, Cecily had them cleaned and dusted once a month. Because of this, it was easy to find everything, and her neatness and talent for organization meant easy access to the chests, boxes and trunks which were stacked there.
Earlier, Meg had taken out several gowns, and laid them across a sofa which had been covered in a dustcloth. The gowns were made of silk, a light featherweight silk, since they had been designed to wear over bouffant underskirts, or hoop skirts, which had been so prevalent in the middle of the Victorian era.
Meg ran over to the sofa and picked up one made of pale green silk and held it against her. ‘I thought this colour would suit me. What do you think, Mama?’
Cecily stood facing her daughter, studying her for a moment. Then she nodded her head. ‘I must agree with you, it’s a pretty colour and perfect for you. I am sure we can have several of them remodelled to fit you. Madame Henrietta is such a good dressmaker, and innovative, she’ll create more up-to-date designs.’ Reaching for another gown, Cecily handed it to Margaret. ‘Let me see how this shade looks: it’s such a lovely blue, it reminds me of cornflowers.’
‘And Ned’s eyes,’ Meg murmured as she took the dress, held it in front of her.
‘Ah, yes, that is true,’ Cecily acknowledged, Ned’s eyes indeed. They were close, Edward and Margaret, with only a few years difference in their ages. Meg, like Richard, adored her eldest brother. He could do no wrong as far as she was concerned, and for his part Ned was protective of her, had kept a watchful eye on her since childhood. In turn, it was Meg who took charge of her younger brothers when necessary, mothering them when Cecily was away, guiding them in so many different things.
‘The blue is enchanting,’ Cecily now exclaimed, liking the way the colour enhanced Meg’s grey eyes. ‘We shall take the green and blue to London with us next week, and before we leave do go through the other trunks. Perhaps you’ll find several more which can be remade.’
‘Oh, how kind, Mama, thank you so much.’ Margaret stepped closer to her mother and hugged her in a sudden show of affection, the silk frock crushed between them.
Cecily, who was not a particularly demonstrative person, began to laugh. ‘It’s my pleasure, but Margaret, my dear, you’re ruining the dress.’
Meg let go of her mother at once, and shook the frock out. ‘I don’t think any real harm has been done,’ she murmured, scrutinizing it with some intensity.
With her head slightly tilted to one side, Cecily studied Margaret for a split second, realizing once again how pretty she had become, with her flowing fair hair and those large grey eyes, which were so beguiling. Instantly Cecily’s thoughts turned to the girl’s future, her marriage prospects. Meg would grow into a lovely young woman, that was clear. And she would definitely make just as good a marriage as Cecily’s two eldest daughters Anne and Eliza had done.
‘I shall speak to Lady Jameson next week when we return to town, Meg, in an effort to ascertain what her plans actually are. It has suddenly occurred to me that perhaps your father and I should consider giving you a small afternoon tea dance later this year, to celebrate your fifteenth birthday.’
‘Oh, Mama, that would be wonderful!’ Meg was startled by this suggestion, which was so unexpected, but the happy smile on her face revealed her genuine pleasure at the idea.
Cecily had also startled herself. She was not usually so spontaneous or impulsive, and normally spent days in deliberation about important things such as this. She wondered if she had made an error in bringing up the idea of a party for Meg, but immediately decided she could not backtrack now without upsetting her daughter. She would talk to Richard next week, but she was perfectly certain he would make no objection. He had always been quite content to leave such matters to her…the raising of their children…the running of their homes.
Richard.
