last outing that her old ones were looking decidedly shabby. Thus, on the morning of the assembly, she sallied forth to the high street to make her purchases. Hebden’s was by far the most popular shop for the ladies of Compton Parva. The business had begun as a haberdasher, selling everything one might require for sewing such as ribbons, thread and needles, but as the number of families in the area increased, the business had expanded to include such necessary items as ladies’ bonnets, scarves, reticules, stockings and gloves. The shop was now run by Miss Hebden, who had inherited the business from her parents, and when she saw Molly, she came immediately to serve her.
‘Ah, Mrs Morgan, good day to you,’ she greeted Molly with her usual cheerful smile. ‘How may I help you today?’
‘I need a pair of white gloves, but I can wait, if you have other customers.’
‘No, no, those ladies are shopping together and Clara is looking after them very nicely. She does not need me always looking over her shoulder.’
‘She has settled in well, then?’
‘Oh, yes, indeed, very well. She is a quick learner and not afraid to ask if there’s something she don’t know.’ She turned slightly away from her assistant and lowered her voice. ‘I admit I was a little reluctant, when you first suggested I should take her on, but she’s a good girl, very polite, and the customers like her, which is important.’
Molly smiled. ‘I am very glad.’
‘Yes,’ Miss Hebden continued. ‘And she’s company, too. In fact, I have grown very fond of her.’ She hesitated, then said in a rush, ‘I think what you are doing at Prospect House is a very fine thing, Mrs Morgan, taking in those poor girls and giving them a second chance. What Clara has told me about her last employer, trying to take advantage of the poor maid and then turning her off without a character when she refused—well, it makes my blood boil, so it does. And him a gentleman, too, so she says. There’s some wicked folks in this world, Mrs Morgan, and that’s a fact.’ For a moment, Miss Hebden’s countenance was unusually solemn, then she gave herself a little shake and smiled. ‘But I mustn’t keep you talking all day, ma’am. It’s white gloves you want, isn’t it? Now, then, let me see... Yes, here we are. You are in luck, it is the very last pair. We’ve had quite a run on them this week and on ribbons, too. Everyone wants to look their best for tonight’s assembly, I shouldn’t wonder. I understand the new owner of Newlands intends to be there, with his friends, so everyone will be out to impress them.’
Molly stifled the urge to say that she did not wish to impress anyone. More customers came into the shop at that moment, so she paid for her gloves and left. She felt a little spurt of indignation that the arrival of a fashionable gentleman and his friends could arouse such interest in the town. Well, she for one would not give them another thought.
Alas for such hopes. Molly had not gone a hundred yards when she met up with Mrs Birch and Lady Currick, two highly respected matrons of Compton Parva. Since each of them had a daughter of marriageable age, Molly was not surprised when they told her they would be attending that evening’s assembly.
‘All of Compton Parva will be there,’ remarked Mrs Birch, nodding sagely. ‘Everyone is agog to see the new owner of Newlands. Have you met him yet, Mrs Morgan? No? Ah, then we have the advantage of you.’
‘Yes,’ averred Lady Currick, interrupting her friend. ‘Sir William lost no time in visiting Newlands and invited them all to join my little card party last night. Was there ever such a man! Not a word to me until it was too late. I asked him how he thought I would accommodate another eleven guests, which, of course, he could not answer. But somehow I managed to squeeze in another table and it passed off very pleasantly, did it not, Mrs Birch? What a pity you were not able to join us, Mrs Morgan, for you could then have met the whole party.’
‘I vow I was a little in awe of them to begin with,’ said Mrs Birch, ‘but I needn’t have worried, they were all so pleasant and obliging. Sir Gerald is a most engaging young man, very genial and even-tempered, despite his carrot-coloured hair! And wait until you see the ladies’ gowns, Mrs Morgan. London fashions, one can tell at a glance.’
Molly listened in good-humoured silence while the ladies went into raptures over the cut and quality of the various gowns and giggled like schoolgirls over the handsome gentlemen, saving an especial mention for Beau Russington.
‘Oh, now there is a handsome gentleman,’ said Lady Currick, sighing. ‘One can quite understand why ladies are constantly throwing themselves at him. He is so very tall and with such an air of fashion about him!’
‘And those eyes, ma’am.’ Mrs Birch sighed gustily. ‘So dark and intense, and that way he has of fixing his gaze upon one, as if you were the only person in the room. La, I think if I were not a happily married woman I might succumb to the beau myself!’
‘Indeed, I think you are right, my dear, I have always had a soft spot for a rake, even one as notorious as Beau Russington.’ Lady Currick gave another little giggle before becoming serious. ‘But with so many personable young men in town, and all of them renowned for being a little fast, we must be sure the girls are properly chaperoned. No more than two dances, if any one of these gentlemen should ask them to stand up.’
Molly stared at them. ‘You acknowledge the gentlemen to be libertines, yet you will allow your daughters to dance with them?’
‘Why, of course, my dear, it would be a great honour to stand up with a fashionable gentleman. And I have no worries that they might attract the gentlemen’s attention beyond the dance, for I think Mrs Birch will agree with me that our girls cannot hold a candle to the fine ladies staying at Newlands. But you will see for yourself, Mrs Morgan, if you are coming to the ball this evening.’
The ladies strolled off and Molly went on her way, wondering if it was too late to cry off from tonight’s assembly, but it was not really to be considered. She would be obliged to meet the Newlands party at some point, so it would be best to get it over.
* * *
It was with the feeling of one doing an onerous duty that Molly went upstairs to change later that evening. She had no intention of dancing at the assembly and she chose to wear her grey satin gown with a demitrain, but when she tried to add a lace cap to the ensemble, Edwin protested, saying it made her look like a dowd.
‘Nonsense, it is perfectly proper for a widow of my age.’
‘Anyone would think you were forty rather than four-and-twenty,’ retorted Edwin. He added, ‘Covering your head like that is the sort of thing Father would have approved. He was ever the puritan.’
That made her laugh. ‘That is certainly a strong inducement to me to remove it.’
‘Which is my intention, little sister! Now, go and take that thing off.’
Molly capitulated, realising that her brother was very much displeased, and ten minutes later, she presented herself in the drawing room again, her unruly dark curls almost tamed by a bandeau of white ribbon.
* * *
The public entrance to the King’s Head assembly rooms was at the top of a flight of stairs, leading up from the yard. When Molly and Edwin arrived, the Newlands party were about to go in, and Edwin would have hurried Molly up the stairs to meet them, but she hung back.
‘There can be no rush, Edwin, and I would like to take off my cloak and tidy myself first. Even that may take some time, though; I so rarely come to these dances that I can already see several
