Since Mr King held none of that ‘set,’ as he called them, in high enough esteem to wish to compete with them, Serena could not agree. Instead, she gave him her own opinion. ‘I suspect his want of fashion comes from his own creative instinct and from his charitable nature.’ Glancing at Mrs Jones, she caught a brief flash of admiration in her eyes.
‘What goes on here?’
Serena craned her neck around Mr Broughton to see Mr Simon almost charge through the door.
‘Your uncle has asked Mr Broughton here to make Miss Bellingham new clothes.’ Mrs Jones gave her son an intense look.
Was she trying to convey something? Whatever it was, the meaning was elusive to Serena.
‘How is that possible?’
‘They were just explaining that Eddie wrote to them weeks ago.’
‘I see. But he doesn’t have—’
‘What my son is trying to say, Mr Broughton, is this commission must be rather expensive. Are you sure he requested a whole wardrobe of clothes?’
‘Yes. As sure as I have two feet.’
‘Then he made a mistake,’ Mr Simon blustered, his cheeks becoming red. ‘Why would he pay for a whole swathe of clothes for a servant girl?’
‘Why indeed?’ Mr Broughton rocked back and forth on his heels. ‘And yet, he sent along with his letter, rather a large draught on his bank account. I can assure you he was in earnest.’
‘Then you should return it. Obviously, the girl has bewitched him.’ Mr Simon’s temper grew.
Serena had watched this interaction as if from afar, as though it weren’t even about her. But this last comment snapped her out of her stupor. Bewitched him, indeed. How dare Mr Simon insult her so! And what had Mr King been thinking? Was it after the night he noticed how thin her shawl was? Even though she had insisted she did not suffer for it. Once again, Mr King had behaved with extravagant generosity, and as a result, she found herself in strife. But she could not allow it. ‘Am I permitted to speak on the matter?’
Suddenly all eyes were on her and the heat rose in her cheeks, though her chest remained tight with frustration.
‘While it is wonderfully openhanded of Mr King, I am in no need of new apparel. I was unaware of his intentions to order a wardrobe for me, nor did I ask him to, or even wish it. I am more than happy to cancel his request. However, I am also loath to dishonour him by doing so. He meant it as a gift, I am certain of that, though extravagant it may be. Perhaps we can agree on one dress and a warm coat, and I shall be more than happy.’
For a moment, they gaped at her. Had she said something too outrageous? Serena swallowed, uncomfortable.
Mr Simon turned to his mother with a tight-lipped grimace, while his finger pointed at Serena. ‘You see how she has wormed her way into his affections.’
‘Simon, that is enough. You are being quite rude and it’s not befitting of one of my sons.’ Colour now infused Mrs Jones’s face as well. Serena knew the feeling well, her own sisters having embarrassed her on more than one occasion with their silliness.
‘Perhaps we could ask Mr King himself. I’m sure he could set things straight.’
Now all eyes swerved to the tailor. Yes, that was the idea. Serena preferred to hear the words from Mr King’s mouth, especially in front of Mr Simon, even if his words dripped sonnets of Athena. Embarrassing, but not as uncomfortable as this fiasco.
‘I’m afraid that is out of the question.’ Mrs Jones did not hesitate. ‘He is working on a commission for the governor and cannot be disturbed. It interrupts his creativity and puts him behind schedule.’
That was the same explanation Mrs Jones had given Serena when she first arrived at Aleron. And yet from her experience, Mr King never minded being disturbed and often left his workroom of his own accord. So, why the pretence? Why refuse to fetch him? Something did not seem right, and yet, Serena refrained from saying so while strangers were in the house.
‘That is a shame. I should have enjoyed meeting this Mr King of yours.’ Madame la Monde’s lips curled into a sensuous smile. ‘Mr Broughton has told me so much about him.’
Mrs Jones gave her a half smile. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, ma’am.’ She turned back to Mr Broughton. ‘I am inclined to agree with Miss Bellingham. A whole wardrobe is simply unnecessary for a maid. But it was my brother’s wish to give her a gift, so it shall be as she says. An evening dress and a warm pelisse shall do nicely.’
20
Serena determined to seek Mr King and thank him for the new clothes at the earliest opportunity, despite Mrs Jones’s warnings to the contrary, but the chance never came. The hour of the day demanded they welcome the visitors to join them for dinner. After that, Madame Le Monde fussed over Serena’s measurements, and of course, had to show her a variety of fabrics. According to the estimable dressmaker, each specimen of material ‘becomes you to perfection, my dearest Serena.’ A statement which Serena met with veiled doubt, especially upon viewing one such fabric draped across her shoulders in the long mirror. It turned her face a hideous shade of grey—not becoming in the slightest. However, she finally agreed upon a vibrant blue silk for the evening gown and a beige velvet for the pelisse.
By the time they’d decided on these details, Serena had little time left for her work. What little sunshine had struggled from behind the clouds, now diminished quickly. She must bring in the linen from the morning, fold it and put it away, before the air became too chilled for further airing that
