‘Mama, I have nothing suitable to wear for dinner,’ she whispered as the housekeeper and the upstairs maid hovered behind them.
‘You are quite correct,’ said Rose. ‘Forgive me, Flora, I should have thought of such a thing, but I was unaware that Mrs Keppel intended to introduce you to society. I will tell her you are exhausted from the journey and ask one of the servants to bring you up a tray. I will leave the gown I have brought with me behind when I return home tomorrow. It will have to be altered, but I am sure there is a seamstress amongst the household staff. Mrs Keppel’s wardrobe is vast, as you may imagine.’
‘Thank you, Mama.’
The housekeeper led Flora further along the long corridor and pushed open the door to a large and richly furnished high-ceilinged bedroom, where a vase of fresh flowers sat on the chest of drawers and soft towels were draped over a washstand.
‘Anything you need, miss, just ring the bell for Peggie,’ said the housekeeper, indicating the maid behind her who bobbed a curtsey. ‘She will also take your cat downstairs to the basement to do its . . . business.’
‘Thank you,’ Flora said, about to add she was happy to take the cat herself, but the two servants had already left the room. She walked to the window and saw it had grown dark and gas lamps illuminated the square below. Carriages were drawing up in front of other houses, their passengers alighting, attired in gleaming black top hats or wide feather-brimmed ones.
Turning away from the window, she saw Panther had already made himself at home, and sat washing himself in the middle of the large brass bed. She climbed on next to him and lay down, staring up at an immaculate ceiling with not a crack or a patch of damp to sully it.
‘Goodness, they must be rich if even their “help” lives in bedrooms like this,’ Flora murmured, as her eyes closed of their own accord and she dozed off. Later, she jumped at a knock on her door and sat up, disorientated, and struggling to remember where she was.
‘Hello, my dear. Did I wake you?’ Rose said as she entered the room. She was wearing an emerald-green dress and the family tiara, which usually languished in the strong box at Esthwaite Hall as there had been so few occasions to wear it. Tonight, Rose seemed to sparkle as brightly as the diamonds that sat atop her head.
‘I must be tired from the journey, Mama. I hope Mrs Keppel isn’t offended that I am not coming down to dinner.’
‘She understands completely. Now, I have brought you something. I thought these might be suitable for you,’ Rose said as she handed a jewellery box to her daughter.
Flora gasped as she opened the box and saw her mother’s pearl necklace and earrings nestled in the velvet. Rose picked up the necklace and fastened it around Flora’s neck. Together, they admired Flora’s reflection in the mirror.
‘It was presented to me by my mother when I made my debut in London,’ Rose said quietly. ‘I have held it dear for so long, but now it is time for you to have it.’ She gently placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
‘Thank you, Mama.’ Flora was genuinely touched.
‘I do hope you will feel at ease here. Mrs Keppel seems to have taken to you already.’
‘I am sure I will. Mrs Keppel seems awfully nice.’
‘Yes. Now, I must go down for dinner. Mrs Keppel says to tell you that she will meet you in the day nursery, which is one floor up, at eight in the morning prompt to introduce you to the children and the rest of the staff. We will say our own goodbyes later on. I am catching the train up to the Highlands tomorrow to prepare the new house for your father’s arrival.’ Rose kissed Flora on the top of her head. ‘Peggie is bringing you up a supper tray. Sleep well, Flora.’
‘I will, Mama. Goodnight.’
15
Flora awoke the next morning to the unfamiliar sounds of the house and its noisy surrounds. There was a tap-tap on her door at seven o’clock and Peggie came in with a breakfast tray and lit a fire in the grate.
Sipping her tea, Flora wondered at the splendour of a household that had servants to wait on the servants. When Peggie had left with Panther firmly tucked under her arm, she put on the best of her meagre selection of clothes – a blue linen dress with thistles hand-stitched onto the hem by Sarah. As she was pinning her unruly hair into place, the door opened and Panther and Peggie appeared once more in the room.
‘Are you ready, miss? They’re waiting for you in the day nursery.’
Flora swept up Panther and followed Peggie up yet another set of stairs. Ushered into the room, she saw it had bright white walls and large windows that gave a wonderful view of the park below. Mrs Keppel was standing by the fireplace, her two daughters beside her. Sonia, the younger of the two, was dressed in a freshly starched white smock and black patent buckled shoes. Her elder sister Violet, who Mama had told her was fifteen, wore a skirt with what looked like a man’s shirt and collar – complete with a tie.
‘Now, my dears, say hello to Miss MacNichol.’
‘How do you do, Miss MacNichol,’ the two children chorused politely.
‘Hello.’ Flora smiled at them and saw that Violet, despite her strange attire, was already a carbon copy of her mother: all feminine curls and blue eyes. Sonia was darker, narrower and with a similar complexion to Flora’s own. The contrast between the two sisters reminded her immediately of herself and Aurelia.
‘What is the cat’s name?’ Violet pointed at Panther, who sat in the crook of Flora’s arm. ‘Is he safe to hold? His claws look quite vicious and he may well scratch.’
‘This is Panther, and I assure you he is very tame. But he doesn’t take kindly to teasing,’ Flora added, an inner instinct telling her that Violet had a capricious temperament.
‘Might I stroke him?’ Sonia approached Panther and cautiously held out a hand.
‘Of course you can,’ Flora replied, handing Panther into her arms and warming to the younger child immediately, as Panther rubbed his head against Sonia’s fingers, his eyes slits of contentment.
‘Now, Miss MacNichol, may I introduce you to Nannie, and to Mademoiselle Claissac?’ Mrs Keppel said as two women entered the nursery. One was a broad woman in a grey dress and a creaseless apron; the other was a petite, plump blonde who looked at Flora as though she had an unpleasant smell under her nose.
‘I am pleased to meet you,’ said Flora, for some reason feeling she should dip a curtsey to Nannie, sensing that she was the force of nature that obviously ruled the two nursery floors.
‘Likewise, Miss MacNichol,’ she replied in a far softer tone than Flora had expected, with a hint of Scottish burr.
‘Enchantée,’ said Mademoiselle Claissac. ‘You may call me “Moiselle”,’ she added haughtily.
‘Moiselle instructs Sonia in the schoolroom,’ Mrs Keppel explained. ‘And Violet attends Miss Wolff’s school in South Audley Street.’