from floor to ceiling, packed with rolls of fabric, shiny silks and satin, soft muslins and cottons of every shade. There seemed to be half a dozen ladies in the room, but the girls soon realised that these were life-size dummies displaying the very latest fashions. Madame Fleurie herself appeared from the back of the shop flanked by two simpering assistants, each carrying rolls of creamy-coloured muslin for Lady Varley’s inspection. The modiste curtsied, bowed, flattered and fawned over her patroness, uttering so many compliments in her lilting French accent that Gwendoline turned away, her lip curling. She led her sister to a satin-covered couch, half-hidden between rolls of fabric and piles of hatboxes.
‘What are we going to do about the new governess, Gwen?’ Wilhelmina climbed on to the couch.
‘Well, I think we should try to send her away. We certainly don’t want to have her with us all the way to Lancashire. It will be much more fun with just Nurse, because she always lets us have our own way.’
‘We could play ghosts again,’ suggested Wilhelmina. ‘It worked very well with Miss Gillimore.’
‘But she was very stupid.’ Gwendoline’s tone was dismissive. ‘This one does not look stupid.’
Wilhelmina regarded her silently. It was clear that Gwendoline was thinking hard. Wilhelmina bore it patiently for a few moments, but soon wriggled off the couch and went in search of something more interesting to look at than Gwendoline’s pensive face. Aunt Louisa was engrossed in discussing fabrics and patterns with the modiste, while the assistants hurried back and forth with bolts of cloth and pieces of lace for her inspection. Wilhelmina walked around the shop; it seemed a nonsense for Aunt Louisa to be taking so long to choose a gown—the dummies were all so elegant she could surely want nothing better. The one nearest the door was dressed in a beautiful gown of apricot silk with a demi-train of shiny beads. Rows of beads also decorated the sleeves and hem, glistening in the light. Wilhelmina went closer, then closer still. It was all a cheat! It was not a dress at all—the silk had been cunningly draped around the dummy with lengths of beaded ribbon pinned into place. In fact, Wilhelmina could see where one of the pins on the sleeve had worked itself loose—perhaps if she just pushed it back in….
‘Wilhelmina, what are you doing?’
Aunt Louisa’s voice cut across the room and Wilhelmina jumped back. Unfortunately, as she did so, a loose thread on one finger of her glove caught around some of the beads, dragging them off the dummy and pulling the apricot silk with them. With a little cry Wilhelmina shook her hand, the beads fell away, but it was too late; before her horrified gaze the beautiful creation was falling apart, the silk dropping into a blushing cloud around the base of the cloth dummy.
‘You tiresome child, how many times have I told you not to touch?’ Lady Varley’s chilling accents brought a hot flush of guilt and embarrassment to Wilhelmina’s cheeks. She ran back to the couch and scrambled up beside Gwendoline.
‘Really, I do not know why I brought you. Just look at what you have done!’
‘No, no, madame, it ees nothing, nothing,’ cried Madame Fleurie, hands fluttering as she sought to placate her wealthy client. ‘It ees the work of a moment to put it right.’ She signalled to her assistants to attend to the disorder while she gently escorted Lady Varley back to the counter to finish making her selection.
Wilhelmina looked up at Gwendoline, who frowned and turned away, hunching a shoulder as if to disown her troublesome little sister. Wilhelmina felt the tears gathering in her eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble.
‘There, there, missy, don’t cry.’ The younger of the two assistants came past, winding up the beaded ribbon into her arms. ‘There’s no ’arm done, my pet. We was about to redress that model anyway.’
Wilhelmina gave a shuddering sigh.
The assistant dropped the bundled ribbon on to the counter and came back to kneel in front of Wilhelmina, her round face creased into a kindly smile.
‘Ah, now, dearie, there’s no need for tears.’ She drew out her own handkerchief and mopped Wilhelmina’s cheeks. ‘All this fuss over a bit o’ cloth, well, I never.’ She sat back on her heels, then suddenly dived down beside the couch.
‘Here.’ She held up a small wooden doll, beautifully dressed in a brocaded gown with a silk apron and a mass of grey curls. ‘Take it, my pet, and you dry your eyes. Madame gets them sent to her from France all the time, dressed in the latest fashions, to show to her lady clients, but heaven knows where this one came from—why, look at those panniers! We haven’t made gowns like this for the past ten years at least!’
Wilhelmina gulped and stared at the doll.
‘Oh, but—I shouldn’t take her.’
‘Oh, yes, you should, my lovely. She will only be thrown away, so you might as well have her, if you like.’
‘Like? Oh, I should love her.’ Wilhelmina’s small hands closed round the doll. ‘If you really think…’
Madame Fleurie called, and after a final nod at Wilhelmina, the assistant rose quickly and trotted off.
‘Gwen,’ breathed Wilhelmina, ‘Gwen, what do you think?’
‘Keep her, if you wish,’ muttered Gwendoline. ‘Although it does seem odd to be rewarded when you have caused so much trouble.’ Seeing her little sister’s lip begin to tremble again, she gave her a quick hug. ‘Goose. I know you didn’t mean to do it. Come on, Aunt Louisa has finished; we must go.’
With regal grace, Lady Varley shepherded her two charges back to the coach, while Madame Fleurie bowed and scraped at her heels.
The children scrambled into the carriage and Lady Varley climbed in after them, dropping back with a sigh on to the well-padded seat.
‘Well, thank heaven that is done. I shall not need to come back now. Madame Fleurie can call at Burlington Street next week for a fitting. Now…’ she smiled brightly at her nieces ‘…let us take that turn around the park. It is a pity the weather is too inclement to put down the hood, but you will get an airing, none the less.’ Her glance fell to the doll Wilhelmina was holding and she tutted. ‘Oh, Minna, surely you are too old to be bringing dolls for a ride with you?’
‘No, Aunt, you see—’
‘Next time you must leave her at home.’ Lady Varley carried on as if Wilhelmina had not spoken. ‘Dolls should be kept in the nursery. Dear me, your new governess will have some work to do with you!’
Chapter Four
Juliana had wondered how Cousin Pettigrew would take the news that she had obtained a post and was relieved that he appeared quite sanguine. Once she had explained that she had overheard the Major’s comments in the hallway of Bouverie Street, Mr Pettigrew seemed to believe that he had somehow engineered the whole thing himself, and had solved the problem of providing for his cousins at very little expense. He was therefore able to wave them off with perfect good humour. Mrs Churwell shed a tear at the thought of them all going so far away, and even pressed one last slice of fruitcake upon Thomas. He devoured it on the short journey to Burlington Street, explaining to his sisters that he would not wish to carry it with him into the Major’s house, in case his staff thought it a slight upon their hospitality.
There was no sign of the Major when they arrived and they were greeted by the housekeeper who led them upstairs. She introduced
