Finessing Clarissa (10 page)

No one could complain of want of insurance companies in Regency London. There existed sixteen fire-insurance companies – The Sun, Phoenix, Royal Exchange, Hand in Hand, Westminister, London, Union, British, Imperial, Globe, County, Hope, Atlas, Pelican, Albion and Eagle. Each fire-insurance company had its badge, which was stamped out in sheet lead, painted and gilt, and then nailed onto the house insured.

‘And I happen to know he is paying a Doubly Hazardous Insurance of five shillings per cent,’ said Angela, ‘so there will be plenty of money to buy what we want!’

*   *   *

The guilt-stricken Tribble sisters descended on Clarissa the following day, each one anxious to correct her faults in as short a time as possible. So Clarissa, who had hoped to have some time at leisure to dream about the evening ahead, was strapped into a backboard, a pile of books was placed on her head, and she was told to pour tea without spilling a drop. ‘I hear there is a man on Tower Hill who chains himself up, puts himself in a sack, and then contrives to escape from it,’ said Clarissa. ‘A little more of your training, ladies, and I shall be set to rival him.’

Amy ignored her. ‘Yes, now, pour the tea. no! Don’t rush at things. Look how you hurtled down the stairs yesterday. Slow movements. Slow and elegant. Here!’ She turned on a metronome. ‘Now, I have set this to a slow beat. Orchestrate all your movements to its beat. Always raise the cup and saucer in your one hand, never leave it lying on the table, and pour. Try to achieve a swan-neck bend to your arm. Pass round the cakes. Curve your arm. Don’t have your elbows sticking out. Oh! Whoresons of strumpets!’

Clarissa had upended the plate of cakes in Amy’s lap.

‘Amy!’ admonished Effy. ‘Such language.’

‘May I take this backboard off?’ pleaded Clarissa. ‘It is so heavy. I promise to sit up straight.’

‘Oh, very well,’ said Effy, unstrapping the cumbersome board. ‘But remember, your back should never touch the back of your chair. Don’t lounge. Only gentlemen are allowed to lounge.’

‘What is she going to do after dinner?’ asked Amy. ‘It would be a good idea to keep her hands occupied.’

‘True,’ said Effy. ‘Now a little netting-box is very pretty and ladylike. She could be netting a purse.’

‘The very thing,’ said Amy. ‘But perhaps we are wasting time.
She
won’t be presiding over the tea-tray. The countess will do that. How she behaves at the dinner table is more important.’

Effy rang the bell and ordered dinner to be served, although it was only eleven in the morning. Harris complained that nothing was ready but Effy told him to bring cold meats and salad. ‘You take your fork, Miss Vevian,’ said Effy, ‘and you cut up a little of each item on your plate and make sure you have a selection of each on your fork at once. That is the fashion.’

‘I am not hungry,’ said Clarissa miserably.

‘Force yourself,’ said Amy heartlessly. ‘Now, pretend I am a gentleman at the table. I raise my glass. I say, ‘Will you take wine with me, Miss Vevian?’ You raise your glass to him and smile . . . so . . . and drink. No, not all at once! Refill her glass, Harris. Now, you raise your glass to the gentleman to indicate you wish him to take wine with you. And so it goes on throughout the meal.’

And so it went on throughout the day. By evening, Clarissa felt slightly sick, very tired, and totally bewildered.

She was dressed in a white silk gown with a gold silk overdress, fastened at the front with gold-and-pearl clasps. Pearls were wound through her thick red tresses and a little rouge had been applied to her lips. The high-waisted style became her very well. A long scarf of gold tissue was draped about her shoulders, the ends falling to the floor.

Amy and Effy were delighted with her appearance. ‘It is a pity about the freckles,’ said Effy, ‘but a light dusting of pearl powder stops them from showing up so much.’

And then Mr Haddon and Mr Randolph arrived to escort the ladies. Clarissa overheard Mr Randolph say, ‘Miss Vevian looks really regal. Those pearls wound through her tresses make her look like a queen. You should be proud of your handiwork, ladies.’

A little glow started somewhere in the pit of Clarissa’s stomach. For the first time, she saw that the Tribbles were really proud of her appearance. All the upsets of the day melted away and she walked from the house feeling attractive and admired.

Even the sight of Chloris Deveney, who had also been invited, did little to dampen Clarissa’s newfound confidence. She was seated next to the earl at the dinner table and managed to cope with the meal perfectly, apart from knocking some peas onto the floor, grinding them into the carpet with her foot in the hope that the earl would not notice, and then finding out that he had.

Angela rose at the end of the meal to lead the ladies to the drawing room. Clarissa was accompanied by Amy, who seemed determined to stick close to her. Amy had decided that pretty, dainty Bella, her pretty, dainty mother, and pretty, dainty Chloris might cause Clarissa to start shuffling and stooping again, and so she kept beside her in the hope that her own tall figure would give Clarissa confidence. Amy was pleased with her own appearance. Once more she wore little heels on her shoes and her gown was of deep purple velvet. It was wonderful to feel warm after shivering in those frippery muslins.

‘Sit here, dear Miss Vevian,’ said Angela, indicating a chair in front of the drawn window curtains.

Clarissa sat down. Amy made to sit beside her. ‘No, no,’ said Angela, ‘you must allow me the pleasure of conversing with Miss Vevian.’

Clarissa sniffed the air. ‘There is a strong smell of oil, my lady,’ she said. ‘Are you sure one of the lamps is not leaking?’

‘I scented this room with rose-water myself,’ said Angela stiffly.

Clarissa, flustered, apologized.

She looked across the room and caught Chloris staring at her with a rather nasty look in her eyes. Now what have I done? thought Clarissa miserably.

She would have been amazed if she had known that Chloris was bitterly jealous of her. In vain did Chloris try to remind herself that red hair was not fashionable. The rich coils and curls of Clarissa’s tresses, set off by the soft gleam of the strings of pearls wound through them, were enough to set any man dreaming. Her gown had been cut to show off the splendour of her white bosom. Her elbows were perfect. Chloris, whose elbows were like nutmeg graters, wondered what Clarissa used to keep them so smooth and white. Everyone knew that any man could be seduced by the sight of a perfect pair of elbows. But Clarissa did have big feet, reflected Chloris, looking down at her own small plump feet in satisfaction. Of course, there was no denying Clarissa’s feet were very well shaped and set off to advantage in a pair of gilt Roman sandals.

‘Shall we promenade about the room, Miss Vevian?’ asked the countess.

‘Gladly.’ Clarissa put down the netting-box she had just drawn out of her reticule and proceeded to walk up and down with Angela. She caught Amy’s eye and walked slowly and kept her head up. Angela raised her hand as she passed Bella. It was a signal to remind her daughter that as soon as the gentlemen entered the room, she was to contrive to set Clarissa’s long gauze scarf alight, but to make it look as if Clarissa had carelessly allowed it to float out over a candle. It was to be done as they were promenading back towards the chair by the curtains. With any luck, Clarissa would throw her scarf in the direction of the curtains.

The room was very hot, thought Clarissa. The fire was roaring up the chimney and there seemed to be lighted candles everywhere. Not only were there candles blazing in the candelabrum over her head, but there were candles burning on sticks on various low tables. Quite dangerous, thought Clarissa, making sure neither her dress nor her scarf went anywhere near one of the many burning flames.

Angela’s plan was totally hare-brained. Although she had soaked the bottoms of the curtains in oil and the floorboards around the edges of the room, there was no reason why Clarissa should simply not stamp out the flames of her scarf – providing, of course, Bella managed to light it unseen.

But Bella was helped by the effect the arrival of the gentlemen had on the ladies. Clarissa had eyes only for the earl, as had Chloris Deveney and her mother. Amy and Effy each suspected Angela of having designs on either Mr Haddon or Mr Randolph and both rushed forward to stake their claim to one or the other gentleman.

Bella deftly caught one end of Clarissa’s scarf and held it over a candle. It took but a second.

‘You have set yourself alight!’ screamed Bella, seizing Clarissa and pretending to try to beat out the flames as she edged Clarissa towards the window. Clarissa tore off the scarf. The now blazing scarf landed on the floorboards by the window. The next moment, there was a roaring wall of flame.

The earl caught Clarissa around the waist and dragged her back. ‘Everyone out,’ he called. ‘Out of the room.’

When they were all out, he slammed the door shut and took off his coat and stuffed it along the bottom. ‘If we can starve the room of oxygen, the fire might extinguish itself,’ he said.

Servants had gone off running to fetch the fire brigade.

The earl drove them all before him out into the street. ‘Did you leave any windows in the drawing room open?’ he snapped at Angela.

‘No,’ said Angela. ‘The shutters are closed tight as well.’

‘Good!’

‘I didn’t know that,’ whispered Angela fiercely to Bella when the earl had moved away. ‘I thought air would put the fire out.’

The men of the Phoenix Fire Brigade came charging up the street, pulling their manual fire-engine. The fire-plug in the street was pulled up. The Phoenix boasted the most powerful fire-engine of the time, but it could only throw a ton of water a minute through a three-quarter-inch nozzle. But other pumps were already being wheeled up in front of the house. ‘Get at it, men,’ screamed the fire chief. ‘This is a five-shilling-per-cent job!’

‘Take the hose inside,’ shouted the earl. ‘The shutters are closed.’ The firemen ran inside and up the stairs. The servants formed a long line up the stairs, passing buckets of water from hand to hand. The earl opened the drawing-room door and fell back as a great cloud of black smoke rolled out.

Down in the street, everyone waited anxiously. A large crowd was gathering. A gingerbread man was already hawking his wares and a juggler was entertaining the gathering.

Clarissa felt sick with shame. She had done it again. Amy put a comforting arm about her. She was clumsy herself and knew how easy it was to cause disaster with one thoughtless movement.

‘I think,’ said Mr Haddon, coming up to Amy, ‘that perhaps it might be a good idea to offer to house the earl and his party.’

‘Yes,’ said Amy dismally. It was the only thing to be done, she realized that. But to have Angela with her delicate flirty ways in residence? No more pleasant card evenings. It was too bad. But she gritted her teeth, and when the earl appeared again, she reluctantly invited him to stay.

‘Thank you,’ said the earl. ‘The fire is out, by some miracle. Only the drawing room is damaged. Mr Haddon, Mr Randolph, if you will escort the ladies to Holles Street, my servants will follow with the luggage.’ He broke off. Bella’s lady’s maid and Angela’s lady’s maid were standing together with jewel boxes and lace boxes at their feet.

‘You are fortunate your maids got those out,’ he said.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Angela. ‘So brave of them to go and fetch them.’

‘It was my lady’s premonition,’ said Angela’s lady’s maid. ‘She had a dream there might be a fire and told us to have the jewel boxes and lace boxes standing ready in the hall.’

‘Silly goose,’ said Angela. ‘I said no such thing.’

‘We will talk about the fire later,’ said the earl curtly. ‘Off with you.’ He turned to a servant. ‘Make sure those firemen keep all the other doors in the house tight shut until the smoke dies down or all our clothes will be ruined.’

Soon the party was assembled in the Tribbles’ drawing room. ‘So brave of you to take on such
dangerous
charges,’ murmured Angela to Effy. ‘I mean, such a clumsy and stupid thing to do!’

Clarissa heard her and sat miserably with her head hanging. Amy was wondering how much all this would cost. The building was insured, but now she would have to provide food and wine for the earl, his stepmother, and half-sister.

Mr Haddon and Mr Randolph had returned to the earl’s home to see what they could do. Mrs Deveney and Chloris, who had accompanied the stricken party to Holles Street, finally took their leave.

At midnight, the earl came into the drawing room with Mr Haddon and Mr Randolph. ‘It might have been worse,’ he said.

‘I am so very sorry,’ whispered Clarissa brokenly. ‘I am a danger to society.’ She turned to Amy and Effy. ‘I think, you know, I should go home to Bath.’

‘What a very good idea,’ said Angela brightly.

The earl looked at her for a long time and then his gaze turned to Bella. Then he said, ‘Please retire and take Bella with you. There are some things I wish to discuss in private with the Misses Tribble. Gentlemen’ – to Mr Haddon and Mr Randolph – ‘I would be grateful if you too could leave me in private with these ladies.’

Clarissa began to tremble. Amy walked over to where Clarissa was sitting on the sofa and sat down and put an arm about her.

The earl closed the drawing-room door and faced the small group.

‘Tell me exactly what happened, Miss Vevian, and leave nothing out.’

‘I . . . I . . .’ began Clarissa and burst into tears.

‘Give her some brandy,’ said the earl. He waited patiently while Amy soothed Clarissa, patted her clumsily on the back, and then held a glass of brandy to her lips.

‘Now, Miss Vevian,’ said the earl.

‘I went to the drawing room after dinner with the ladies,’ said Clarissa in a tired, flat voice. ‘Lady Angela asked me to sit by the window. I took out my netting-box and then she asked me if I would promenade with her. I was nervous because I had asked her if one of her lamps might be leaking – the room smelt of oil, you see – and Lady Angela said she had scented the room that day with rose-water. I felt very gauche and that may have been what made me clumsy. There were so many candles burning on low tables that I did try to be careful. Then . . . let me see . . . you, my lord, and the other gentlemen came into the room and Lady Bella cried out I was on fire and hustled me across the room . . .’