Lady in Rags

Chapter Two: A Strange Woman

Verity found that the upper halls were considerably better furnished than the lower halls. The carpet under her feet was fresh and deep, and there were paintings hung on the walls, mainly of hunts and mysterious hills and violent storms. One door was open to her left, and Verity slipped through. It was a bedroom, well-furnished, with a fire blazing in the hearth, even though it was only September. A woman was snoozing by the fireplace, and some dresses were spread out over the double bed, glimmering in the light. Verity examined them, heart thudding. They were far finer than anything she'd ever worn before, far finer than most of what she'd ever seen.

She turned back to the lady, who was grunting slightly in her sleep, and coughed.

The lady woke with a start. She was somewhere beyond middle-age and plumpness, but not quite arrived at elderly and fat. She was dressed in a severe black gown, but her face broke out in a strange smile when she saw Verity.

"So sorry, Child." She bundled herself out of her chair and kissed Verity on the cheek with a familiarity that made Verity blush. "Now, you must take that awful thing off, and I'll get you in something proper."

"Are you Mr Armiger's mother?" Verity queried, as she undid her dress.

"Oh, Lord no!" The woman chuckled. "I'm his old nursemaid. He keeps me around. My name is Mrs Roper. Didn't he tell you nothing?"

"No." Verity struggled out of her dress and let it fall to the floor with a sigh of relief. "Oh, what beautiful dresses."

"You can try them all on, and then pick. I guess you don't get much in the way of pretty dresses."

"No."

Verity spent some time trying on the dresses and prancing around in front of the mirror, aware that for the first time in her life she looked like the lady she was, and not a kitchen maid. When she finally chose a grey-green silk dress with silver and gold trim, Mrs Roper sat her down and undid her untidy braid, and combed and brushed and pinned up her hair. A few loose curls, those Verity could never tame, sprang out by the sides of her cheeks, and one at the nape of her neck.

"My Dear, you have such lovely hair."

"Thank you." Verity had never felt so beautiful. Staring at her reflection, she felt the agony of her missed position in life. My mother was a lady, she thought bitterly, and yet I spend most of my days in rags in a kitchen.

"You look like a princess, My Dear. But to be a princess... There is just one last touch." Mrs Roper opened a box on the dresser, and pulled out a glittering necklace. "Here."

"Oh!"

The necklace rested around her neck, all small bright diamonds, and one large topaz, resting heavily upon her breast.

"I've never worn anything so nice," Verity whispered. "Why are you doing this for me?"

Mrs Roper squeezed her arm. "The Master can hardly dine with a woman who looks like a kitchen maid now."

And Verity's world came crashing down again, as she remembered exactly why she was here. She set her mouth in a grim line.

"Thank you, Mrs Roper, for making me look beautiful tonight."

She left the room, trembling with anger. She found the library downstairs, and entered, to find Mr Armiger sitting on a couch with a book. He looked up when she entered, and a strange expression washed over his face, that he quickly controlled. He stood, and bowed.

"My Lady, you look... very beautiful."

"Good evening, Mr Armiger," Verity said stiffly.

"Are you hungry? There is dinner in the hall. It's past eight."