The Secrets of Sophia Musgrove Read online

  'Sophie, how sweet she would look! I should have thought of it before. I'll ask Lord Sandford, and if the seamstress can come over tomorrow we can have her measured right away!'

  'Oh, that's wonderful,' I said. 'She wants to look like a fairy princess – which means she wants the prettiest dress and the chance to scatter flower petals.'

  Estella laughed and clapped her hands. 'She'll be perfect!' she declared, and I felt happy at the thought of how excited Rose would be.

  The next morning was the day of Lucy's departure. As we sat drinking tea, we were informed by Miss Larch that we had a gentleman caller.

  'Oh, my goodness, my eyes are all puffy!' exclaimed Lucy. 'Who is it, Miss Larch?'

  'It's Mr Archer from Crossbows House,' she replied.

  'Oooh! Show him into the drawing room, please,' I said.

  Estella was much amused by Lucy's excitement. My friend immediately insisted on getting some lettuce leaves to bathe her eyes – her beauty almanac said this would make them sparkle – before she went down to meet Mr Archer.

  Miss Larch was less entertained by Lucy's beauty requirements when we went to ask for the lettuce. 'I never heard of garnish on a lady's face before!' she exclaimed, handing over the leaves reluctantly. 'What a waste! I was going to make soup with that salad.'

  I think Lucy felt that Mr Archer was worth it though, for he was devastatingly charming and regaled us with hilarious stories.

  'Lady Lucy . . .' he said falteringly as he stood to take his leave. 'Perhaps we could meet in the city next week? I would very much like to renew our acquaintance.'

  'Here is my card,' said Lucy, smiling. 'I should be pleased to see you again.'

  After he left, Lucy and I giggled. 'There could be a double wedding with Stella and Mr Dovetail!' I joked, but Mrs Willow tutted and resumed her cross-stitch.

  It was hard to see Lucy go home later that day.

  'I'll be back in three weeks for the wedding,' she said. She was coming with her chaperone, Lady Lennox. Lady Pennington was about to give birth again, so she and Lord Pennington had politely declined the wedding invitation. I knew it wouldn't be long before Lucy's return, but everything was much more colourful with her around and I was sure I would miss her over the next few weeks.

  'Mr Archer is invited to the wedding, isn't he, Sophie, dear?' she whispered.

  'I promise he'll be there!' I told her.

  'He's promised to write to me. And we are to go to a Mozart recital at Carlton House soon. I know I've said it before, but I think he could be The One, I really do, Sophie!' she said.

  'We'll see what Lord Pennington makes of his credentials first,' scolded Lady Lennox, chivvying Lucy into the coach.

  Mrs Willow, Estella and I waved them off, then went indoors to get on with the wedding arrangements. I was looking forward to the next three weeks of planning. It was exciting and – as it turned out – took up our every waking moment.

  Rose Sandford was thrilled when she was asked to be a flower girl. 'I will be a fairy princess at last! Thank you!' she cried, embracing me with her chubby little arms. She was fitted for a dress, and her nurse often brought her over to the Daisy Park to join in the planning. On one occasion her father accompanied her, and it was lovely to see his pride in his little girl.

  'You are so natural with children, Miss Musgrove,' he observed, smiling warmly at me. He handed me a small package tied with a ribbon.

  I looked at him quizzically.

  'It's a small token of my appreciation for all you have done for Rose,' he said.

  I opened the package and found inside a pair of exquisite pearl earrings. 'Oh, how lovely!' I gasped. 'Thank you, Lord Sandford. These are so pretty! But, really, you didn't need to—'

  'I know. I wanted to,' he said firmly.

  We all adored Rose, including Harry, who loved having someone smaller than himself to organize.

  We eagerly awaited the arrival of Estella's gown from Paris. It was to be kept a secret from Papa, who came down to the Daisy Park to check on Mama's progress every so often: he hated all things French. When there were only ten days left until the wedding, we became terribly worried that the dress would never arrive at all.

  I went down to the village to check if any packages had gone astray, when I saw Lily chatting to Ruth, a maid from Crossbows House. They were deep in conversation and I couldn't help noticing that Lily looked most perturbed. I carried on to the postal office, only to find that they had no lost packages there, but my mind kept wandering back to the worried look on Lily's face.

  That night, as she brushed out my hair, Lily mentioned that she had been chatting to Ruth so I took the opportunity to ask her about it.

  'Did you enjoy your conversation, Lily?' I asked.

  'Yes, miss,' she replied. 'It's just that . . . Well, you see . . . Oh, never mind.'

  'Lily, you know you can tell me anything,' I said, trying to sound reassuring. 'Do you want to talk to me about something?'

  'Oh, Miss Sophia. It's regarding Ruth's master, Mr Archer. She says that he's involved in them cruel slave ships in some way!' Lily burst out. 'I didn't know whether to tell you, miss, but I know that Lady Lucy holds him in high regard, and I couldn't bear the thought of her being caught up in anything bad.'

  I bit my lip. I knew a little about the slave trade from newspapers and general society gossip. Some families saw nothing bad in it, I knew, but others were appalled by the trade in human beings. I had always heartily disliked the idea of buying and selling people. It seemed to me entirely wrong. Besides, there were rumours that on the ships that brought the slaves into the London docks, they were often tied up and starved during the journey. It was a terrible business and I didn't want to believe that Mr Archer was involved in it in any way.

  'You were right to tell me, Lily,' I reassured her. 'And I will think about what and whether to tell Lucy . . .' This information about Mr Archer could well be mistaken. Perhaps Ruth had overheard unkind and unfounded gossip, or had simply misunderstood the complexities of Mr Archer's business dealings. It could even be that for some reason she didn't want her master to court Lucy and was trying to poison our thoughts against him. Would it be right to pass on this gossip when I had no evidence at all?

  I had just received a letter from Lucy informing me that Mr Archer was visiting her regularly in London; a chaperoned theatre trip with him had gone wonderfully well. On reflection I decided to say nothing about this news for the time being. I couldn't bear to disturb Lucy's happiness or to blacken the name of a man who might have nothing to do with the slave ships. Still, the unpleasant snippet of gossip preyed on my mind, and it was some hours before I fell asleep that night.

  Chapter Eight

  With only a week to go until Estella's wedding, I didn't have time to think too much more about Mr Archer. The whole Musgrove family was working hard to give our beloved Estella the day she had always dreamed of. I must confess that I caught the wedding bug a little myself – it was such a wonderful project – but I was determined that I would only ever marry when I had found my true love.

  Our excitement was increased when a messenger arrived, bearing an envelope with the distinctive royal seal upon it. We had been waiting to hear if the Queen had accepted our invitation to the wedding.

  'Come quickly!' cried Estella. 'We have a letter from the Queen!' No matter how infuriating Queen Charlotte could be, she was still the highest lady in the land, and it would be a great honour if she were to attend Estella's wedding.

  We gathered round my mother's bed to hear the news. 'It says that Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte, will be delighted to attend the wedding and that she will be accompanied by her daughter, Princess Amelia,' Estella squealed. 'And they will be staying in the area with friends so that they shall not impose on us at this busy time. How thoughtful!'

  'Hurrah!' I cried, hugging Estella.

  'The Queen herself !' she breathed as she hugged me back.

  'It is wonderful news, Stella, dear,' Mama said happily.


  Luck really seemed to be with us when, finally, with only a few days to go, the wedding dress arrived from Paris. It was truly divine, falling in soft silken folds from a high waist, with a lace overlay stitched with pearls covering the entire gown. It even had a slight train behind it that looked very glamorous. This dress was a totally new look which I had seen in a magazine and persuaded Estella to order some months before. It was becoming fashionable to wear a special white wedding dress, instead of simply donning a best gown, and I knew that white would suit Estella's colouring perfectly.

  'I love it!' Estella cried.

  'It's so modish,' I remarked, helping Estella to slip it on. But she must have lost a lot of weight – or sent the wrong measurements to Paris – because the beautiful dress simply fell off her shoulders and hung like a sack.

  'Oh, dear, it's much too big!' I declared, stating the obvious.

  'What can have gone wrong?' Estella wailed. 'And more to the point, what can we do about it with only a few days to go?'

  'Perhaps the seamstress in the village can alter it, dear,' I suggested.

  But Estella shook her head. 'I'm afraid not. She's terribly offended that I didn't ask her to make my wedding dress, even though she is making the bridesmaids' dresses and Harry's suit. She predicted that I would regret ordering it from France.'

  'Hmm, what a pickle. We don't want Papa to know where it came from – and that it is faulty after all that!' I mused. 'He would be too smug. Fetch me the sewing box – I will adjust it!' I declared.

  Estella's face crumpled. 'But, Sophie, dearest, you are not known for your sewing skills,' she said as sweetly as her anxious state would allow.

  I laughed at this. It was true. I always sewed my cross-stitch samplers to my skirts by accident! 'But I will be careful, I promise,' I assured my sister. 'I will pin it where it hangs loose and take it in a little over the shoulders. We want to show off your pretty curves after all!'

  I really did try my best. I took hours over the stitching, and they were the neatest little back stitches you ever saw. Estella came back to my room to try on the dress again, but disaster of all disasters, I had stitched up the armholes during my shoulder alterations!

  Estella burst into hysterical laughter as she struggled to push her arms into the dress. She danced around the room with only her head through the neck.

  'It's a straitjacket, Sophie! I am finally insane! I am King George, what, what!' she cried, before we both collapsed on my bed in a mixture of laughter and tears.

  I ran to fetch Mrs Willow.

  'What is going on?' she asked loudly.

  'Ssshh!' I hushed her. 'It's a secret!'

  Three hours later, Mrs Willow had undone my stitches and redone the work with her own. What a lovely job she did! She had made the dress look made-to-measure and it sat perfectly on Estella's dainty frame. We were all quite speechless for a moment as we admired the exquisite bride-to-be.

  'Well, you're quite the most beautiful bride I've ever seen,' exclaimed Mrs Willow. 'And if I may so, strictly between these four walls, it was well worth sending to France for this dress. It's magnificent!'

  This was praise indeed from Mrs Willow, and Estella glowed with pride.

  Harry was a little darling in the days leading up to the wedding, moving awnings and tents around the garden and helping to create the most gorgeous fairy glade in the dell at the bottom of the garden. Estella wanted it to be crammed with lanterns, flowers and drapes.

  'A right fire hazard and no mistake!' observed Miss Larch cheerily.

  The day before the wedding we received another message with the royal seal. It was addressed to Mama.

  'Come quickly, Stella, dear,' she called. She was now having good days and bad days by turns. The good days were enough to keep us from despairing too much over her condition, but the cause of the malaise was still a mystery. 'The note says that the Queen is certain to attend tomorrow. She is at the Earl of Oxford's country house as we speak, ten miles to the north, along with the Princess Amelia!'

  'Hurrah!' we all cried. We had been worried that she would cry off at the last moment, as she was sometimes prone to do.

  'Is the King with her?' I asked anxiously.

  'Most definitely not!' replied Mama.

  I laughed with relief. To cap our pleasure, Lucy and Lady Lennox arrived before dusk, and Lucy amused us all evening with tales of the London parties she had attended.

  She and I managed to snatch a private moment on the landing before we retired to bed.

  'Have you seen Mr Archer again?' I enquired. I had been worrying about him in odd quiet moments, and found myself musing about the slave trade. I had never given it a great deal of thought before, but now the rumours of barbaric conditions preyed on my mind and I wondered how much was true.

  'No, he was unable to attend the Mozart concert due to business commitments,' Lucy answered. 'But he has written often, saying that he cannot wait to see me at the wedding!'

  'He clearly enjoys your company, but remember that you hardly know each other,' I told her, mindful of Lily's warnings. 'Maybe you should still think of other suitors too, Lucy,' I said.

  'Oh, Sophie, there is no need for me to look elsewhere. My Mr Archer is simply perfect!' she replied.

  On the day before the wedding, Mama put on one of her pretty dresses and we all dined together as a family in the dining room. Harry loved having us all together again, and I felt quite emotional at the thought that this might be the last time we enjoyed a meal 'en famille' in this way.

  The next day my father got dressed early and declared: 'This place stinks of lavender water and rose petals, and there are half-dressed ladies at every turn. Come on, Harry. We'll play chequers in the summer house, m'boy! And bring Dinky along too. That dog is going to start thinking like a girl if we're not careful!' And with that, he, Harry and Dinky disappeared into the gardens, not to be seen again for several hours.

  I watched as Lottie helped my mother into a pale blue gown, with a matching satin pelisse coat and a large feathered hat, which made her look like an exquisite figurine.

  'You are so pretty, Mama!' I declared. 'And you look well. Do you feel well?'

  'I feel very well indeed!' she said with a smile; though I had no way of knowing if this was quite true.

  Estella was a picture in her French gown. Leonora Pink and I wore simple white dresses, trimmed with lace. They were rather low cut, and sadly my expansion exercises had miserably failed to improve my bust.

  'What about a little assistance?' suggested Lily.

  'Whatever do you mean?' I asked, intrigued.

  'I've heard of it from the other maids, miss. Some of their young ladies enhance what nature has given them with padding!'

  I gasped. 'That would be deceitful!' I exclaimed. Then I added, 'What sort of padding?'

  Lily rigged up a little wadding in my undergarments and the effect was remarkable. I decided that a little help in that department would not go amiss.

  Harry stared, open-mouthed, when he saw me. 'Ugh. You look horribly grown up, Sophie!' he declared, looking at my décolletage. I laughed, secretly rather pleased with Lily's work. It is much simpler than exercises!

  Lucy looked quite stunning in a dove-grey French gown with a matching hairband. Little Rose arrived accompanied by her nursemaid, Ginny. She was already wearing what we called her 'fairy princess dress' of pale blush-pink, with little chiffon 'wings' attached to the back.

  The wedding ceremony was to take place in the chapel at Mellorbay Hall. The carriages that were to convey us there drew up at the front entrance of the Daisy Park, all decked out with flowers and ribbons arranged by dear Lily.

  I was so proud of all my family and friends, but sore at heart when I thought of how wasted Estella was on the Dovetails. However, perhaps I would never have considered anyone good enough for my beloved sister. 'I do hope Mr Dovetail is kind to her . . .' I sighed.

  'Don't worry, Soph,' whispered Harry as he saw a tear spill from my eye,
'I'll protect Stella against Mr Dovetail if he's mean to her!' He patted his pockets and showed me a catapult and a small tin of worms.

  I laughed and ruffled his hair as Rose sat on my lap. When we arrived at the chapel, Lord Sandford was waiting and he waved to his daughter proudly. Then he turned to me with a look of what I can only describe as affection. I felt a little alarmed. I hoped that he had not assumed I was seeking out his company when I visited Rose. But these thoughts soon flew from my mind as my attention was taken up with the wedding.

  The royal coach was arriving, surrounded by a crowd of people, creating a bit of a scrimmage, which had to be marshalled by some of the young men. I noticed that Mr Hughes swiftly took control of the situation.

  The Queen and Princess Amelia, dressed in royal purple and rose pink respectively, descended and waved graciously as they were escorted to their front-row seats in the chapel, along with several ladies-in-waiting.

  The church service passed without incident, even though Lucy could not suppress a giggle as the Reverend Allen whistled through the prayers. I noticed that Mr Archer was staring at her throughout the whole service, and in truth they did make an elegant pair when I saw them laughing together outside the church.

  'I shall throw my posy over my shoulder now, and whoever catches it will be married next!' said Estella. She turned her back to the crowd and threw her flowers into the air. There was much hilarity when the posy was caught by Mr Archer!

  'Well, I couldn't let it drop, now, could I?' he protested.

  'Beware! If you get married, Archer, you'll have to say your first name!' called Mr Hughes, which caused Mr Archer to throw the posy at him.

  'My sister's bouquet!' I cried, and Mr Hughes salvaged it and tied it back together. He passed it back to me with a little bow and I couldn't help but smile at his gallantry.

  By the time we returned to the Daisy Park, a string quartet was playing pretty waltzing music on the lawn, the cake was in place on a table decorated with sugared fruits, and the wedding breakfast – stuffed quail and garden vegetables, followed by scented rice puddings with strawberry sauce – was ready to be served.