Chapter 20
Miss Notley, Lady Carletane, and the Duchess were pouring over pattern sketches. Evelyn was kept busy fetching pattern books, sketching paper, and measurement charts.
“This pattern is quite fetching,” the Duchess said. “You are so slim, Blanche, that we would scarcely need to lace you at all to achieve this shape.”
“Indeed,” Lady Carletane said. “We would need to add some padding to make the train and the bust fit correctly.”
“I think I would rather have something that required less adjustment,” Blanche protested.
“It is lovely,” Evelyn put in, “but perhaps the ruffles would be a little overpowering for Miss Notley. Here is a gown with elegant and simple lines that could easily be converted to an evening gown after the wedding.”
Blanche tittered nervously. “Trust the shopkeeper’s daughter to think of the economics of a wedding gown,” she said, almost a little nastily. “That would make it highly unlikely that the gown should be passed down to the next generation.”
Lady Carletane took this to mean that she should have had an heirloom gown to pass down to her daughter. “I am so sorry dear,” she said, “But moths got in the attic, and the silk is so old that there is no help or no hope of refurbishing it.”
“That is quite all right, Mother,” Blanche said, “for I do not believe that your wedding gown would have fit me anyway.”
“I fear not,” her mother said. “You take after your Aunt Grace, who was thin as a rail from the day she was born, until the day she was laid in her coffin.”
“Since she was only seven-and-ten when she passed away, this is hardly comforting, Mother,” Blanche remarked acidly.
“Dear me,” Lady Carletane protested, “I am sure I was not referring to her longevity. Rather, I was referring to how small she was all of her life compared to the rest of us.”
Blanche sighed. Evelyn looked at her with sympathy, for she guessed what might be going through the young lady’s mind. If her Aunt Grace, who had been extremely thin, had passed away at age seven-and-ten, then it was hardly a good prognosis for the length of Blanche’s life.
“Your Grace,” Evelyn asked tentatively, “have you thought of asking your physician to look at Blanche? Since her current one does not seem to be doing her a great deal of good?”
“What an exceptional idea,” the Duchess said. “My dear Blanche, he is to call on me tomorrow. Why do you not visit me at the same time, and we can see what he might have to say?”
“Would he not charge for having an extra person to attend?” Blanche asked.
“Oh piffle,” the Duchess said. “If he does, I shall pay for it. It is my idea, after all, and it would please me. My dear, it distresses me to see how poorly you feel. You are always lovely, but you used to have a great deal more energy.”
“I cannot argue with that last,” Blanche said. “Very well, I will indeed plan to visit you tomorrow, Your Grace. Although I do not enjoy being poked and prodded, perhaps he will have some insight.”
“Are you quite sure, my dear?” asked Lady Carletane. “Your physician is quite renowned.”
“Even renowned physicians now and then make a mistake,” the Duchess pontificated. “To err is human and to forgive is divine. Should he have made a mistake we shall forgive him, mostly.”
“Mostly, Your Grace?” Evelyn asked lightly.
“Mostly. Because the physician is responsible for the lives of others. When his treatment is not efficacious, he should take it upon himself to make changes. Yes, he should!” The Duchess now looked quite fierce.
“I will own I cannot argue with that,” Lady Carletane said. “Therefore, my daughter and I will wait upon you tomorrow when your physician is in attendance.”
“That will be lovely, my dears,” the Duchess said. “I can think of nothing better. I shall look forward to it. He will be here shortly before tea, so we can have a light repast afterwards to sustain us through whatever nuggets of wisdom he shall impart. I have always found that having a physician in attendance makes me extremely hungry.”
“That would be desirable,” Blanche said, “for of late I have not felt hungry at all. Weak, miserable, and unhappy, but not hungry. It seems no matter how little I eat, I still have no appetite.”
“With that out of the way,” the Duchess said, “I do believe that Evelyn’s suggestion of a gown with simple lines might just suit you.”
Lady Carletane looked at the pattern indicated. “It is extremely plain,” she said.
“Indeed, it is,” Evelyn replied. “Which means that if it were made up in a rich silk with just the barest hint of a color that would complement Miss Notley’s complexion, it would make her look lovely without overwhelming her slight figure. With a light veil, she would look ethereal, like an angel descended from on high.”
“You could be right,” Lady Carletane said, looking again at the pattern. “It would give me genuine pleasure to see my daughter looking lovely.”
“Shall we order the silk, then?” the Duchess asked.
