Chapter 37: In Society

(August 1814)

The breakfast table at the Bennings’ house was filled a little more on the next morning. Melinda Curry sat opposite Thomas and Mirabel, between Florence and Teresa, and tried to blend in. Her two companions, also invited to share the bounty of the table, had refused in shock. Captain Curry may have treated them with consideration, but they had still been working for their livelihood. Now they hovered around Melinda, making certain that she was dressed and groomed to advantage, and they were terrified of sitting at her side, rather than standing behind her. Angela had to relent.

For her part, Miss Curry had won the hearts of the Benning household within mere minutes. Her smile and her generally sunny disposition lighted up the room, as it had brightened Clyde‘s cabin during the crossing. Even Mirabel, who had initially eyed the blonde beauty with considerable skepticicsm, was won over eventually when she saw that there was nothing affected about Melinda’s demeanour, and moreso, when Melinda openly admired Mirabel’s rich brown curls and her tall and slender form.

Of course, the main topic at the table was the dinner invitation Thomas and Mirabel had received. Angela had the facts ready about the captains and their wives who would attend, and she was impressed and proud of her two protégés. There was also a strong consensus on the part of all the females – excepting Teresa who just giggled over all the excitement – that Mirabel urgently needed a new dress for the occasion. Apparently, there was a new fashion house on Bond Street that, as Angela decreed, was the only place where Mirabel might find the right dress, and Angela had already sent a servant to alert the proprietor, a Miss Wilson, of their needs. Thomas just laughed good-naturedly and promised to provide the necessary funds.

Mirabel smiled apologetically, but he could also feel her excitement. She had been to Lady Norton’s salon a few times since her arrival in London where her former employer had greeted her with open arms. Through this contact, Mirabel knew of Miss Wilson’s fashion house, since Lady Norton’s widowed daughter was a partner in that enterprise.

Once breakfast was finished, Mirabel, Angela, Florence and Melinda Curry fairly rushed downstairs and into the waiting coach. Thomas and Elias were left behind whilst Teresa was due for a lesson with the tutor Angela had insisted on hiring. Bartleby who had been in the kitchen then found Thomas and announced that his captain absolutely had no shirts and stockings that were fit for good society anymore. His best buckled shoes would do, but his cocked hat had seen too much sun and saltwater and was bleached out in places. That led over to his uniform coats. Whilst the Nº1 coat had been packed away securely, he could not well wear it to a private dinner invitation, and his lesser coats whilst still servicable on the quarterdeck of a frigate, had also been exposed to the elements for almost two years. With an inward sigh, Thomas asked his leave from Elias and set out with Bartleby for a tailor recommended by his host.

The tailor, a Mr. Rankin, was not available, and his journeyman hemmed and hawed about the rush order so much that Thomas decided to cut his losses and wear one of his old, spruced-up coats rather than dealing with a certified jackass. Since they were close to Bond Street anyway, Thomas decided to see how Mirabel was faring. After asking two passers-by for directions, they were finally standing in front of Wilson’s Fashion House. Entering, they were received by a pretty shopkeeper of obvious West Indian heritage.

“Good day, Miss,...”

“Mrs. Little, Captain, at your service,” the young woman corrected Thomas.

“I beg your pardon then, Mrs. Little. I believe that my wife, Lady Grey, is at this establishment to get fitted, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes. You must be Sir Thomas?”

“Indeed.”

“Lady Grey is in the fitting room, Sir Thomas. Perhaps you wish to wait? May I offer you refreshments, a tea perhaps, or coffee?”

“A coffee would be welcome, Mrs. Little. Bartleby?”

Bartleby actually blushed. “Yes, Sir Thomas.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, can you...”

“But of course, Sir Thomas.” She clapped her hands resolutely and a maid in a well tailored uniform appeared. “Two cups of coffee, Bessy, and make’em strong. These are Navy gentlemen.”

Thomas shook his head. “This is certainly a well run business, Mrs. Little. We just had to leave one of your competitors’ shops without a purchase due to the sheer incompetence of the keeper.”

That seemed to fill the young woman with pride. “May I ask which competitor, Sir Thomas?”

“Rankin’s Gentleman’s Attire, but he was not in presence.”

“Oh, poor you! I take it you met his journeyman, Hollister. Perhaps we can be of assistance to you?”

“Oh, but I need a uniform coat, Mrs. Little.”

The woman offered a giggle. “I assure you that I was not about to offer a lady’s dress to you, Sir Thomas. We do serve gentlemen as well, in fact mostly Navy gentlemen. Miss Wilson started her business in Portsmouth, you see, and doing rush orders of uniforms was always part of her business.”

“Well, it would seem that I need a rush order of at least one coat, and perhaps three more with less urgency. Shirts too, I’m afraid. In spite of Bartleby’s best efforts, two years on board a frigate are quite taxing even for the best cloth.”

“If you are willing, our Mr. Dumas will take your measurements, Sir Anthony?”

“Why not? Can you have the first coat ready by Wednesday noon?”

“Of course.” She looked critically of Thomas’s coat. “This is fine cloth, but the cut could be more fetching, Sir Thomas. Where’d you have it tailored, if I may ask?”

“Our family tailor in Guildford, Surrey. I imagine that he is not up to London standards?”

Mrs. Little shook her head. “Perhaps not, but it looks like good workmanship. Nevertheless, let me show you to the gentlemen’s fitting room.”

Mr. Dumas was a tall and skinny fellow who in spite of his French name spoke like a Londoner. With quick efficiency, Dumas took Thomas’s measurements. Then he offered a small selection of cloths. Here, Thomas called in Bartleby, knowing that what he did not know about coats could fill an encyclopaedia. Bartleby made the sensible suggestion to have the rush order cut from a lighter cloth, to be more comfortable in a salon, but to have the everyday coats made from heavy cloth. This was to what Thomas agreed, and Mr. Dumas asked for Thomas to return on Monday for a fitting.

Leaving the fitting room, Thomas found Mirabel who gave him an excited smile.

“Oh, Thomas, dear! I ordered three dresses, and you will love them!”

Thomas smiled back. “I cannot wait to see you in them,” he replied.

Looking at the other women, he saw Angela’s smug smile, Florence’s amusement, and Melinda’s dazed look. This was so unlike her normally exuberant mood that he had to ask.

“My dear Miss Curry, what shook you up so badly?”

Even trying hard to focus, she could only stammer. “Th ... they ordered a d ... dress for me, and it’s b ... beau ... beautiful!”

“Well, we cannot have her show up at Mr. Leeds’s looking like a prisoner of war,” Angela insisted. “It’s a simple dress, never worry.”

“Oh, dear! Will young Mr. Leeds stand a chance?”

“He never did in the first place, and now his father will be equally helpless,” Mirabel smiled. “Do not fret, my dearest Thomas. All will be good.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Are you all set with your ordering?”

“I believe we are, dearest. Did you order something too?”

“Yes. The tailor’s shop which Elias recommended could not help me on such short notice, but Mrs. Little convinced me that Wilson’s will be able to complete a rush order. Looking over my coats, Bartleby found them all wanting, save for my Nº1 uniform which I cannot really wear to a private dinner.”

“Well, knowing how your wife will look, I should say that you’ll have to make certain to do her justice,” Angela smiled. “Did you know that Mrs. Little is in fact the wife of Sir Anthony’s captain’s cox’n? Sir Anthony himself is one of Wilson’s oldest customers, or so I’ve been assured, and Mrs. Little once sailed in Clyde herself, as companion to a highly ranked Spanish lady.”

“Well, I should think that my orders are in capable hands then.”

Over the next three days, Thomas saw very little of his wife during the days. She, Angela, Florance and Miss Curry, with the help of Angela’s servants and Miss Curry’s companions, were too busy with the preparations. Of course, Mirabel was no novice to society due to the year or more spent at Sir Robert Norton’s house, but she was to meet ruling royalty at the Carters’ in the person of the Prince and his wife, and she would leave nothing to chance with regards to her appearance.

Thomas thought it best to keep out of the way, and Elias concurred with him. He introduced Thomas to a gentlemen’s club, the St. Croix, owned and run by the Marquis de St. Croix, a French emigré who had found a home and his vocation running the establishment which, according to Elias, had the finest French food in all of London, and the prettiest girls to serve it.

Thomas was hardly a good judge for the fine dishes they had, but he could certainly verify the other claim. The Marquis was a jovial man who mingled with his guests and who was quite knowledgeable of Navy matters. Thomas felt very much at home in the club, and in a spur-of-the-moment decision, he bought a membership. He expected to visit London frequently in the future, in particular if he succeded Mr. Egerton to the seat in the Commons, and the St. Croix offered comfortable guest rooms for its out-of-town members. This would allow him to have a permanent address in London without the hassle of maintaining a household.

Finally, Wednesday arrived, and from early morning on, pandemonium reigned at the Bennings’ house. Thomas and Elias cowardly eloped to their club, enjoying a leisurely day drinking choice brandies and smoking fine cigars, until they deemed it time to return and face the chaos.

They were not a moment too late or too early, as Mirabel was in the final stages of preparations. With Bartleby’s help, Thomas quickly and methodically dressed for the occasion. His new coat and breeches were indeed cut more fetchingly than what his Guildford tailor had produced, and he was quite satisfied with his mirror image. A hatter had done wonders on his best cocked hat, removing the minor dents and refreshing the black dye, and he looked every bit the successful frigate captain that he was.

In the end, he had to wait for another quarter hour, before Mirabel glided down the stairs into the entrance hall. Thomas could clearly see that the efforts had paid off, for Mirabell looked stunning. Her curly hair had been swept up to expose her slender neck, and her rather low neckline added to the fine display of womanly charms. He bowed in admiration.

“You are very beautiful, Mirabel,” he said reverently.

Mirabel blushed, but gave him a beaming smile.

“Well, you look handsome too, my dearest. I am sorry that you had to wait.”

“Well, I had not exactly a dull day,” Thomas smiled. “Anyway, you are worth any wait.”

“He is well trained, isn’t he?” Elias asked his wife, and Angela nodded with a laugh.

This being August, Mirabel only covered her shoulders with a thin crocheted shawl, and the two left the house. Outside, a rented cab was already waiting, and Thomas made certain that Mirabel’s dress did not touch the wheels when they climbed in. The cab took off and Mirabel exhaled.

“Thank God, we’re off. Thomas, I dearly love Angela, but she has tired me out today. I mean, it is not that I am to meet a future groom, yet she had me change gloves at least three times. She means well, and she is concerned that I may meet with disapproval, but if that happens, no gloves will change that.”

“She is getting a bit motherly. Well, I experience the equivalent trait with Elias, but it is less tedious to sample well aged brandies.”

“I am looking forward to returning to our house, but I also hope that Melinda will become Angela’s new focus.”

“How do you get along with her?” Thomas inquired cautiously.

“She is a darling, and there are no two opinions about that. At first I was a bit jealous, but the girl carries her heart on her tongue, and within a few minutes I knew all about your interactions with her. Did I tell you already that I am proud of you?”

“Often. Why this time?”

“Because you are a true gentleman, looking after her and her ... oh, well ... her half-sisters. You were right about that. By the way, I may ask you to hire Suzette as my maid. She does not want to return to Baltimore, saying that she’s afraid of becoming enslaved again. She didn’t have it bad in the Curry household, and Melinda is all heart with her, but she and Charlotte are not as close as we would think.”

“Well, we could certainly add to the help. As it is, we are understaffed at home, and Suzette seems to be a bright girl.”

“She is. She’s cheerful too, and a good worker. Let us face it, my dear, our current staff is getting on in years, and I would like a young face in my dressing room.”

“So be it then. Don’t you think that Miss Curry might object?”

“She wants the best for Suzette. She knows that we’ll treat her well. I shall speak to her, and I am quite certain that she’ll be understanding.”

The cab was slowing down at that moment, and a look through the side window showed a stately mansion to the left. Presently, a footman in a blue coat limped forward and opened the door of the cab for Thomas. He stepped down and then helped Mirabel out, whilst the footman protected her dress from the dirty wheel.

“Whom may I announce, Sir?” the footman asked formally.

Thomas perked up. This was not the speech of a manservant, but...

“What ship, my good man?” he asked.

“Asia, Sir, 84!” the man answered proudly.

Thomas nodded. Sir Anthony obviously employed invalided former ratings on his household staff.

“Captain Sir Thomas Grey and Lady Grey, my good man,” he informed the footman who led them up the front steps and through the entrance.