Queen of the Waves Page 6

  Jacquie led the way to the front door and opened it. She stepped inside, brushed away a couple of thin cobwebs from the doorway, then glanced Tessa’s way. “Welcome to your new home. For the next two weeks, anyway.”

  Tessa’s nerves jumbled madly as she glanced around the tiny cabin. “Are you sure I will be safe here?”

  “Quite. No one comes here unless we’ve guests, so you are more than safe, I assure you. Besides, Papa is out of town on business for the next week and Mama is at a society function this evening. We’ve the whole place to ourselves.”

  From the back bedroom, a young woman in a simple black dress with a white collar and a ruffled apron approached. She took one look at Tessa and rolled her eyes. Nothing like making a person feel welcome. A cold chill came over Tessa, and she fought the temptation to bolt toward the door as the stranger took to fussing with her white cap.

  Jacquie smiled and gestured to the woman. “Tessa, this is Iris. She is my—your—lady’s maid.”

  Tessa felt her breath catch in her throat as she took in the blond. “My what?”

  Iris muttered something under her breath, finally speaking aloud. “Your lady’s maid, miss.”

  “But, I…” No words would come. Tessa shook her head, unsure how to respond. To be served by another? This seemed a foreign concept to one who had only ever served.

  “Iris has become my confidant.” Jacquie flitted across the room and gave the maid a warm embrace. “And she is fully onboard with our plan.” A giggle followed. “Fully onboard. What an ironic slip of the tongue.” She patted Iris on the back and then laughed.

  The petite blond didn’t smile. Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. “Against my better judgment, I daresay. But I will not break confidence, Miss Jacquie. I’ve given you my word and I will not go back on it.” The pained expression that followed made Tessa wonder about that.

  Iris went about the business of lighting the lanterns overhead, one after the other, and soon the room was filled with the glow of flickering light.

  “You’re sure no one will find us here?” Tessa trembled as the very idea took hold. “Won’t the lights give us away?”

  Jacquie shook her head. “We are a great distance from the main house, so please don’t fret. Besides, I don’t recall Mama setting foot in this cottage for years. She has an aversion to spiders.”

  Tessa laughed. “If I had such an aversion, I would have to rid myself of it in a hurry. Working with the countess has taught me to overcome my fear of the creepy-crawlies.”

  “You work with a countess?” Iris looked up from the lanterns, her brow wrinkled.

  This got a snicker from Peter, who had entered the room behind them carrying Tessa’s bags.

  “Probably not the sort you’re accustomed to.” Tessa giggled but did not say more. Instead, a yawn worked its way to the surface. She tried to stifle it but could not.

  Jacquie gave her a sympathetic look. “Poor girl. I know you must be exhausted from the trip, but we’ve got so much to do, and with Mama gone tonight, this is the perfect time to get started. Do you mind?”

  “No. Whatever you think is best, miss.” She put a hand to her mouth at the obvious blunder then pushed back another yawn and smiled.

  “First of all, let’s get rid of this ‘miss’ business, shall we? You will call me Jacquie.”

  “Whatever you think is best, miss…er, Jacquie.”

  “Good. Now, I’ve asked Iris to set out some food so that we can have a little lesson in table etiquette. And I do hope you’ve enough energy left to try on a few of my new dresses after the fact, in case they need to be fitted.”

  “Try on your new dresses?” Her heart did a funny little flip-flop as she thought about it.

  “Of course.” Jacquie giggled. “I still can’t believe my good fortune. My father just paid for a host of new gowns for my trousseau, which means I have two wardrobes at my disposal.”

  “Your father purchased gowns for your marriage to my brother?” Tessa could hardly imagine such a thing possible. This story grew stranger and stranger.

  “No.” Jacquie’s nose wrinkled. “My father believes me to be engaged to another man, remember? Mr. Roland Palmer.”

  “Ah, yes. I recall hearing that name mentioned.” Of course, she had heard a great many things over the past few hours, had she not? How could she ever keep up with this playacting with no script to follow?

  Jacquie’s nose wrinkled. “I must admit, it gave me a moment’s pause to think that you would end up with the new wardrobe, but I have no choice in that matter. Mama will help pack my trunk for the ship, and she will place my finest things inside. She will never know that they’ve been tweaked to fit you, of course.”

  “Wait.” Tessa put her hand up, still confused. “You’re saying that the new wardrobe pieces are to be mine?” She could hardly believe such a thing.

  “Yes.” Jacquie shrugged. “It’s a small sacrifice on my part, really.” A pause lingered in the air between them. “Besides, I won’t really have need for such fine things once I’m a married woman. I daresay my new life will be—simpler.”

  Peter glanced up, and his eyes clouded over with something that could only be described as discomfort. He gave a little shrug followed by a muttered “Yes. Simpler.” He hesitated and then added, “When the time comes, I mean.”

  Jacquie’s expression shifted to one of concern before she turned her attention to Tessa once again. “Anyway, I have much to teach you, but we will begin with dinner-party basics. I will talk you through the various plates and silverware pieces and then move on to proper body positioning and the woman’s role at the table. I can share suggestions for conversation starters and even advise you on the foods you should order once you board the ship. Are you up for it?”

  “I suppose.” The food part sounded good, anyway. Tessa’s mouth watered just thinking about the possibilities.

  “This would be a fine time for me to scoot.” Peter pulled Jacquie into his arms and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He gazed at Jacquie. “Can you do without me?”

  “Yes, but don’t stay away long.”

  “Never.”

  Peter turned his attention to Tessa. He doubled his fist and gave her a playful punch. “Not sure how I can ever thank you, Tess.”

  Her heart flew to her throat and she fought the sting of tears with a shrug. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  He chuckled as he made his way out of the cottage, turning back only long enough to give the ladies a playful wink.

  “Now then. Let’s get to work.” Jacquie’s lovely blue skirt swished this way and that as she made her way to the table. Playing the role of servant, she pulled out a chair and gestured for Tessa to sit, which Tessa did, but not without tripping over the chair leg.

  “S–sorry.”

  A winsome smile graced Jacquie’s lips as she pointed her index finger upward. “Rule number one—a lady rarely acknowledges her own faux pas. She pretends it never existed.”

  “What’s a faux pas?” Tessa asked, her gaze shifting to the rows of silverware surrounding the plate in front of her.

  “A mistake. A woman rarely acknowledges her mistakes, at least not publicly. She simply moves forward as if the incident did not take place. That way, you leave the other people wondering if, perhaps, they might have imagined things.” A light giggle followed from Jacquie, along with fluttering eyelashes. How did one go about getting their lashes to flutter like that? Tessa would have to try it. Later, of course, when no one was looking.

  They spent the next half hour going over the rules of the table—everything from silverware to goblets to the way one held one’s pinkie finger while sipping tea. Before long Tessa’s belly was full of crumpets and tea, but her head was even fuller. How could she possibly remember all of Jacquie’s instructions? Worn out, Tessa slumped back in her chair and let out an exaggerated groan.

  “I know, I know.” Jacquie chuckled. “It’s a lot to take in.” The lovely young woman pause
d, and her gaze shifted to Tessa’s hands. “Next we’re headed to the bedroom to try on dresses, but before we leave the table, would it offend you terribly if I asked to see your hands?”

  “My…hands?” Tessa pressed them behind her back, embarrassment taking hold.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind.” Jacquie’s eyebrows arched as she extended slender, beautifully manicured fingers Tessa’s way. “You will wear gloves much of the time, of course, but a lady’s hands give her away, so one can never be too careful.”

  Tessa held out her calloused hands, palms down.

  The look on Jacquie’s face spoke all as she took hold of them and leaned down for a closer examination. “Well, I can see we have much work to do. When we’re done with our lesson, I’ll have Iris help you soak these nails and give them a good scrubbing. Cleaning beneath the nails is so important. A clean palette is a good start. But we must do more.” She turned Tessa’s hand over then ran her delicate fingertip along the rough, blistered palms. “I will have Iris bring around some petroleum jelly as well. You must apply it at night before bed, then sleep with gloves on.”

  “Sleep—with gloves on?” Tessa bit back a chuckle. “Truly?”

  “Yes. It’s a trick I learned from Mother. Within weeks you will have the hands of a lady.” Jacquie blushed and shook her head. “I do hope you will forgive me for that.”

  “For what?”

  “For implying that you are anything but a lady already. I didn’t mean to suggest such a thing with my comment. Will you forgive me?”

  “Me? A lady?” Tessa snorted. “Miss, there’s no need to pretend I’m something I’m not.”

  “It’s Jacquie. And what do you mean, pretend?” Jacquie used her napkin to brush crumbs from her lip.

  Tessa’s dander rose. “Don’t coddle me. We both know I’m not a proper lady, and there’s certainly no reason to think I’ll take to the role with ease. This will be a stretch, at best. Impossible, at worst.”

  “Oh, posh. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re lovely, Tessa, and I know the manners will come with time.”

  “Me? Lovely?” Tessa felt her cheeks grow warm. “Oh no. I’m not naturally good-looking, as many young ladies are. My appearance is tolerable. I’ve come to terms with this, so there’s no point in stretching the truth to make me feel better.”

  “Tolerable?” Jacquie’s eyes widened as she rose from the table. “You really don’t have any idea, do you? You’re a beauty, Tessa. Your hair is the prettiest shade of brown, and your eyes are beautiful. You’ve got a lovely figure too, one that will show off nicely in my dresses.”

  “Hmm.” Tessa couldn’t think of much to add, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “Now, come with me. We’re going to get you dolled up in the three new gowns Mrs. O’Shea has completed. Several others are expected before the ship sails, but we will manage those once they arrive. One thing at a time, I say.”

  Tessa tagged along on Jacquie’s heels to the bedroom. The damask coverlet on the bed caught her eye at once, but she was more taken with what she found atop the covers. Tessa’s gaze landed on the exquisite pink satin gown, and she gasped. “I—I—” Truly, in all of her days, she’d never seen the like.

  Jacquie reached down to lift the dress. “If you think it’s hard to breathe just looking at it, wait till I lace you up in the corset.”

  Tessa ran her fingers along the sleeve, mesmerized by the sheer fabric. Never had she worn anything so delicate, so fine. “What are these?” She pointed to several bead-like bits embellishing the front and the sleeves.

  “Pieces of glass. Aren’t they marvelous?” Jacquie held the dress close and cradled it like a baby. “And the silk is imported from India. Father travels there frequently, you see.”

  “India?”

  “Yes, and look at the threading running through it. It’s metallic. Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “I can truly say I never have.”

  “We need to get you into this dress, Tessa, so that Iris can take it up in the shoulders. It’s clear you’re smaller than I am.”

  “Smaller than—you?” Tessa shook her head. Was the china doll teasing? Such a tiny waist had never been seen. “If anything, you will need to let them out.”

  “Oh no. Just wait until you get the corset on. Then you will see how small your waist truly is.”

  She ran her fingers—her poor, rough fingers—along the delicate silk corset, eyeing the intricate embroidered rosettes and white laces. Sheer perfection.

  Moments later, laced in so tightly she could scarcely catch her breath, she saw, all right. “I—I can’t breathe. And I certainly can’t sit down.” Tessa gasped for air but gazed at her reflection in the oval mirror, astonished by how tiny her midsection looked.

  Jacquie laughed. “You will get used to it, I assure you. And you can sit. You will simply have a straighter spine.”

  “Straighter than Cupid’s arrow and twice as painful.” Tessa ran her rough palms along the luxurious silk-and-lace undergarment and winced as the pain in her ribs grew worse when Iris tied off the laces. Was it her imagination, or did the young woman seem to pull them tighter still?

  “I will certainly not be able to eat while wearing this.” Tessa fought to catch her breath. “No doubt I’ll trim down in a hurry.”

  “Perhaps Iris can release the pressure a bit. Let’s try the dress on over it. Then we will know if the laces can be loosened.” Jacquie reached for the gown and, with Iris’s help, pulled it over Tessa’s head.

  Iris worked with diligence to fasten the hooks in the back of the dress, not saying a word all the while. She stepped back when finished and pursed her lips. Tessa could scarcely breathe but did not complain.

  “Wonderful!” Jacquie clapped, clearly delighted. “It’s lovely. And plenty big enough in the waist, which means Iris won’t have to pull so tight next time.”

  From the smirk on the maid’s face, Tessa had no doubt she would pull even tighter, if it meant inflicting pain. Not that she blamed the poor girl for being angry. A lady’s maid, having to cater to the whims of a lowly farmer’s daughter? No doubt the idea met with a sting.

  Jacquie clasped her hands together. “Iris, please fetch Peter. He will be delighted.”

  When Iris left the room, Tessa gazed at her reflection in the mirror, mesmerized by what she saw there. She focused on the gown with its full skirts and colorful beads and counted herself fortunate to wear such a thing of beauty.

  Minutes later, Peter entered the room. He took one look at her and gasped. “You shine up like a new penny, Tess. Hardly recognized you.”

  She pressed her fists onto her hips and stuck out her tongue.

  “Ah, now I recognize you.” He gave her a brotherly squeeze. “A pig farmer’s daughter, all done up with bells and whistles, putting on airs.”

  “I beg to differ.” Jacquie fussed with Tessa’s hair, twisting it up into a chignon. “Before that ship sails, no one will see Tessa as anything other than a lady.”

  “Yes, I’m a real lady, I am. But at least my ‘airs,’ as you call them, don’t stink like Countess’s stall.” Tessa plopped into the wingback chair in a whoosh of pink satin and crinkling petticoats, the pain around her midsection catching her off guard. Not at all what she was accustomed to. In fact, she had to wonder if she would ever get used to such frippery. She sat up straight, the corset offering no other option.

  Peter chuckled. “I daresay, when you enter the ship with so many trunks and hatboxes, you will be perceived as quite the lady.”

  “So I am to be defined by my possessions, then?” Tessa jutted her chin. “Is that it?”

  Jacquie sighed and gave a little shrug. “I’m afraid you must play the role of one who would find that notion to be quite acceptable. Can you do so?”

  Tessa paused to think it through. If she could pretend to be a fine lady, she could surely pretend to enjoy fine things.

  “Can she do it?” Peter doubled over with laughter. “She�
�s a devil of an actress. You should see the performances she’s put on through the years. Always pretending, this one.”

  “Quite the little Sarah Bernhardt, eh?” Jacquie slipped her arm around Tessa’s shoulder. “Well, she has made a career of it. Perhaps you can too. Once you land in New York, I mean. I understand they have wonderful theaters there.”

  Tessa didn’t have a clue who Sarah Bernhardt was but didn’t say so. Instead, as Peter had a good laugh at her expense, she and Jacquie went into the other room to change into a simpler everyday dress, one made of the prettiest blue-and-white cotton. It felt like heaven against her skin. As she lifted the dress to adjust the petticoat, she noticed Jacquie glancing over at her scabbed knees. Tessa quickly pulled the dress down and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Do you mind if I ask—?” Jacquie paused then bit her lip, her gaze shifting once again to Tessa’s legs. “Have you been injured?”

  On the outside? No.

  “I…” Tessa shook her head, unable to speak. She tugged at her skirt, making sure her knees were properly covered. A girl like Jacquie would never understand. Still, from the look of concern on her face, she wasn’t likely to let the conversation fizzle out, so Tessa released a lingering breath and tried her best to explain. “When Pa’s angry…”

  Jacquie shook her head. “He what?”

  “It only happens when he’s been drinking.” Tessa’s words grew more passionate. “He makes me repent for my wickedness.”

  “Your wickedness?”

  “That’s what he calls it, anyway.” She forged ahead with the story. “When my work on the farm is shoddy, or when he’s upset, he makes me repent.”

  “And what has this to do with your knees?”

  Tessa bit her lip, unsure if she should continue. Still, the barrel had been opened, had it not? She might as well pour from it. “Off to the side of the pig stall, there’s a rocky path. Sharp. Deep.” She shuddered. “When Pa is soused, when he’s good and worked up about something I’ve done wrong, he makes me kneel on the broken bits until I’ve prayed through my sins and offered full repentance. He calls ’em my rock prayers. There are times when he weighs me down with bags of feed on each shoulder to add to the burden. I’ve carried more than my share of burdens over the years, and my knees have taken the brunt of it, I’m afraid.”