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.Ladies driven into acute poverty by the death of a husband had very few alternatives.On the one hand Society condemned them, but at the same time it made it almost impossible for them to find respectable employment.I was so lucky, Louisa thought.There but for the grace of God…Filled with sadness and a deep sense of outrage, she left the window, went to the desk, and turned up the lamp.She knew she would not sleep now.She might as well take another look at the notes she had made earlier.She opened her little journal and began to read, but after a while she closed the notebook.She could not concentrate.For some reason all she could think about was the way it had felt to be held in Anthony’s arms, crushed against his chest while he kissed her.When she finally went back to bed, she took the memory with her and hugged it close as a talisman against the nightmare.7The following morning dawned crisp and sunny.She dressed in a thin chemise, drawers, and a single petticoat.There were many who would have been horrified by the minimal amount of undergarments, to say nothing of the lack of a corset.Fashionable women often wore as much as fourteen pounds of underclothes beneath their even heavier gowns.But she and Emma were both staunch advocates of the rational dress movement, which held that ladies should wear no more than seven pounds of underwear.As for corsets, the movement had wisely declared them to be injurious to women’s health.The dark blue gown she chose was also designed in accordance with the commonsense principles of the movement.The bodice was snug-fitting in the current style, but it lacked stays and was only lightly laced.The bustle was small and minimally padded for shape.The skirts contained considerably less fabric than was normally found in more stylish, elaborately draped gowns.The reduced amount of material in the skirts was a crucial factor: By reducing the overall weight of the dress, it made walking much easier.The voluminous folds of the majority of fashionable gowns combined with the many layers of petticoats worn underneath made it impossible for a woman to take an invigorating stroll in the park.She was reduced to slow, mincing steps.If she tried to move at a brisker pace, her legs became hopelessly entangled in her skirts.Louisa picked up the small notebook lying on the bedside table and went down the hall to the stairs.Emma’s door, she noticed, was still closed.In the kitchen she found the housekeeper, Mrs.Galt, with her husband, Hugh, and her niece, Bess.Hugh, a burly man in his mid-forties, took care of the garden and Emma’s beloved conservatory.Bess served as the maid-of-all-work.The three were having their tea when Louisa walked into the room.They all rose quickly.“Good morning,” Louisa said.“I just came for a cup of tea.”“Good morning, ma’am.” Mrs.Galt smiled.“You’re up early.Would you like some toast to go with your tea?”“That would be lovely.”“I’ll bring a tray into the study in a moment.” Mrs.Galt turned to the stove and picked up the kettle.“I’ll go see to the fire, ma’am.” Bess bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried down the hall.“Thank you,” Louisa said.She gave Mr.and Mrs.Galt another smile and started down the hall to the study.She had not gone far when she heard the low murmur of Mrs.Galt’s voice behind her.“Well, now, I’m surprised to see her up and about at this hour.She came in very late last night.She cannot have got much sleep, and that’s a fact.”“Sleep’s the least of it, if you ask me.” Mr.Galt’s voice was a soft rumble.“It’s that business of coming home in a gentleman’s carriage that makes one wonder.First time that’s happened since we came to work here.”“Hush, now,” Mrs.Galt said quickly.“We’ve known from the start that this is an odd household.It was no secret that Lady Ashton is a noted eccentric, but the wages are excellent.Don’t you dare do or say anything that might cause all of us to lose our posts.”Louisa sighed and continued down the hall.It wasn’t easy keeping secrets around servants.One had to constantly bear in mind that there were always other people in the house aside from herself and Emma.Not that Mr.Galt had spoken anything less than the truth.She had come home quite late last night, and she could not deny that arriving back here at Number Twelve in a carriage other than the one in which she had departed was certainly a first.So was being walked to the door by a gentleman.In the study she found a cheery blaze crackling on the hearth.“There you are, ma’am,” Bess said, getting to her feet.“It will be nice and cozy in here soon enough.”“Thank you,” Louisa said.“Here’s your tea, ma’am,” Mrs.Galt said from the doorway.She set a tray on a table.“Let it steep a bit.”“I will,” Louisa promised.She needed her tea to be strong this morning.There was a great deal of thinking to be done.She waited until she was alone before she sat on the chair behind her desk.Clasping her hands on the blotter, she surveyed the small room.The bookshelves were gradually filling up with volumes, among them a wide assortment of sensation novels.She had developed a passion for them in the past year because they generally featured stories of illicit love affairs.It had become clear to her that, given her secret past, an illicit love affair was the only sort she could ever hope to have.Each new book increased her sense of security.It was as if every addition to her small library was a brick in the fortress wall that she was constructing around herself.But the reality was that she would never be truly safe.Emma had done her best to make her feel welcome, but the small flame of hope that burned within her, refusing to be entirely extinguished, was enveloped in an icy dread
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