Chapter 15

“You look rather cheery tonight.” Ginger sauntered into Mendora’s lodgings, having heard the carriage screeching to a halt downstairs the Rosalinds Residence. The Rosalinds had retired early, a good three hours before and with the knowledge that her mistress was with her family, Ginger was unable to rest until Mendora was before her eyes again.

“Don’t I always embody a cheery exterior when you are within my presence?” Mendora teased from her spot before her mirror as she set to work removing her jewellery. There wasn’t much on her person. She’d given up the need to doll herself up since she’d made the decision to remain unmarried. Despite that, she’d sold many of them to add to her small fortune to compensate for her father’s refusal to provide her with a tempting dowry. She’d only three thousand pounds invested at a five percent interest, money that came from her own mother’s dowry. Providing that she was determined to live as an old maid, as her father had put it tonight, he’d withdrawn his contribution to her dowry which provided her with less finances to support herself in her unmarried state.

“From what I’ve heard that has nothing to with me and everything to do with a particularly roughish Marquess.” Ginger dropped the candle on the bedside table as she plopped onto the mattress. Mendora’s movement slowed as she was dragging the earrings off her ear and away from her body.

Relinquishing the pearl teardrops into their casing Mendora regarded Ginger in the mirror’s reflection, finding that the girl’s attention was fixated on her. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Are you holding my prowess in attaining the latest news as fallacy?” Ginger was immediately on her feet, coming to stand behind Mendora, her hands braced on either sides of the chair as she studied the girl’s head. She abhorred what Mendora made her do when dressing her up to be seen. There was nothing fashionable or enviable in what Mendora wore and for the rich that was a poor sight to behold. Not to mention the reputation of Ginger as her companion.

“Gossip and news are of a different nature.” Mendora responded easily, rising to her feet and signalling Ginger’s aid in removing her gown. It was no secret that Ginger thrived in any environment that was conducive to secrecy. She had a way about her that attracted information.

“All things news worthy is gossip for no one would pay mind to it if it weren’t tantalizing to the senses.” Ginger lectured as she set to work helping Mendora ready herself for bed. Mendora smirked, “then does that render people as conniving as they are pretentious?”

“Most certainly.” Ginger approved, “Am I to hear your recollection of events?” she pivoted back towards to the conversation she’d been waiting to hold with Mendora. Shaking her hair free of its clasps, she exhaled a sigh of relief, Ginger untying the makeshift bulge that was attached to Mendora.

Free from the burdensome confines, Mendora circled across to her bed, dropping down and exhaling with heavy breath, “Perhaps you should be more specific concerning the parts you wish to hear.” Mendora encouraged Ginger to stay a while. In all honestly, she’d miss staying up recalling the events of a momentous day and she did want to talk to Ginger. While she heard a lot of gossip she never once participated past listening and asking questions. Mendora’s secrets were always safe with Ginger. The girl was loyal to a fault.

“The Marquess spoke to you?” Ginger followed Mendora’s movement as she shuffled off the bed and grabbed up the comb from the table settling back on the edge of the bed, parting her hair and attempting to comb through it. Ginger took the comb from Mendora’s hands, shifting the girl so that all her hair followed behind her as Ginger ran the comb through her long hair. She was accustomed to brushing this hair at least three times a day for years now.

“Yes.” Mendora nodded along with the verbal confirmation, her eyes closing, her breath steadying as the comb glided through her hair, she remembered she would often fall asleep in her younger years whenever anyone played or worked on her hair. “I believe he was interested in my connections with the children in the workhouses and even offered to provide funding.”

Ginger’s fingers stilled midway down Mendora’s hair. “That’s amazing! I hadn’t expected him to be such a generous man.” She squeezed Mendora’s shoulders and shuffled her feet. “In fact, I’ve heard some accounts of him tonight and dare I say the man should be avoided if one is meant to hold their virtue in high esteem.”

A bit dizzy, Mendora responded, “Don’t get too excited. My father warned him against it.” A reminder of the discourse a painful memory to Mendora’s pride and she wondered just how she was able to converse easily with Solaire following that.

“That scoundrel.” Ginger grunted, she’d been partial to Aldrich Garrick until his dislike for Mendora became too obvious to ignore. “But tell me more about the Marquess, I’ve heard he’s almost as indifferent to the women as he is to the men.”

“I haven’t known the man well enough to form an opinion.” Mendora replied, but upon consideration, “Indifferent might be his tactic to retain his unmarried status.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Ginger sat next to her, her eyes wide with wonder.

“For all your interrogations have you not heard any representation of the man’s actual thoughts?” Mendora tormented Ginger with a raise of her brows, tempted to break her nightly cycle and braid her hair for the night was humid.

“Do not tease me, we cannot all be blessed with such good fortune as to be spoken to by such a man.” She scolded while Mendora laughed. “Now explain your words.”

“The man has no interest to end his bachelorhood and thus no need to forge any connections with females hence the reason for his indifference.” Mendora explained, a weird sensation trickling through her veins at being able to speak to the man’s true nature. True was subjective, she had no real way of knowing what was true or false and she’d never bet her head for anyone, much less a dashing stranger.

“And yet he’d spoken to you above any other female,” lights were flashing chaotically in Ginger’s eyes, “Unsolicited from what I have been told.” She nudged Mendora in the shoulder, waiting for a reaction but Mendora shook her head, wishing she didn’t understand what exactly Ginger was insinuating.

“There is no way that I, Mendora Agnus Garrick, can catch and sustain the attention and affection of such a specimen.” She giggled, her cheeks glowing at the images racing in her head. A genuine reaction if Ginger had ever seen one. The last to be seen had been when her mistress’ heart had been torn to shreds. The catalyst to the person she became. “I couldn’t secure the affections of a Mr. God forbid a man with a title!” The very proposition that she’d be anything more to the Marquess swelled her chest with inconceivable merriment.

“Oh bite your tongue! That Mr.” Ginger said with unmasked disgust, “had never been worthy of you. Besides, you had more offers than your father had time to entertain them and I never understood your obsession for that one ingrate.” Ginger puffed. She’d been against the union from the start and it had unravelled to prove her suspicions right.

A slight exaggeration on the offers she had, Mendora noted but she let it slide. She’d wanted one man at that time and he’d disappointed her to the core. It mattered not that men were plenty if she’d likely face an inevitable fate. “All I am saying is that powerful men have insatiable appetites and I am not willing to risk my heart again.”

“Okay enough of such thoughts,” Ginger swiped her hand before her face as if the motion would drive away the moment. “Perhaps, it’s all for the better as the Marquess is rumoured to be a bit of a rake.”

“Stands to reason with his disinterest in marriage.” Mendora cocked her head to the side.

“Are you set to accompany your sister to St James Park tomorrow?” Ginger altered the conversation.

“Oh heavens make way!” She dropped back dramatically on the mattress, Ginger peering at her unimpressed. “I have always despised going for walks there, it’s always crowded.”

“Especially during the season.” Ginger rose to her feet, a tide of sleep rolling over her. “Do you not miss it?” She said after she’d noted Mendora having no design upon responding.

“What? The constant planning and excursions every single day of the week just to be in the view of any marriage man?” she laughed, staring at her ceiling with a wistful smile. “I miss being seen, but not by potential husbands. I miss conversing and laughing and having friends.” She swallowed hard.

“Not much can be said for those who were your friends,” Ginger responded, once Mendora had changed her appearance no one wanted to be seen with her and those

‘friends’ were the very ones that gossip about her.

“I know.” She said solemnly, “But other than that, I do not miss the season. It all seems a bit childish now.” She remembered having days full of socialising, from one event to another the only time to rest was when she’d be back home for the night.

“Goodnight dearest,” Ginger hadn’t the words to say and so she bid her mistress goodnight.

“Goodnight, Ging.” Mendora sang in that sweet tone that was uniquely hers as Ginger sought the door.

“Ging,” Mendora hindered her, the girl waiting for her mistress’ order, “that club you mentioned, are you still amenable to attend?”