Saraband for Two Sisters

I had a new wardrobe now and I was pleased that my clothes were looser than those we had worn in the country. Ana, who was a good seamstress, told me that the stiff fashions which had once come from Spain were quite outmoded now. Farthingales were never worn and one did not put stiffening under skirts to make them stand out. Ruffs were completely of the past, so were high collars, and it was smart and becoming to wear low-cut dresses. The wrists and arms were often shown and some of my new gowns had sleeves which came only to the elbow. When I wore these I had long gloves and a great deal of attention was paid to getting the right ones.

Ana dressed my hair too. She gave me a fringe of curls on my forehead which had to be crimped each day.

Mab, like myself, had to go through a certain tuition. I think she enjoyed it, for she started to give herself airs and talk disparagingly of the poor maids of Trystan who had no idea what fashion meant.

I was beginning to feel that but for the anxieties about what was happening at home, and if Bersaba would have been with me, my trip to London would have been a great adventure.

Sir Gervaise appeared a few days after my arrival. He was kind and asked solicitously after my family. He was quite clearly concerned and I thought he was much more kindly than his wife and I wondered if he was happy in his marriage. I believed that Carlotta would be a demanding and not very affectionate wife. Of course he admired her beauty, which was something one could not help but be aware of. When I looked at myself in the mirror with my fashionable fringe and my rather bony wrists I often thought what a contrast I made to the elegant magnificence of Carlotta. She seemed to be aware of it, too, for she viewed me with great complacency.

So I began to feel a little happier for Senara’s certainty that all would be well, and Sir Gervaise’s gentleness was also of great help to me. Every day I would hope for a message from home, but Senara said, “It is as yet too early. Your mother would wait to tell you until she was certain that the crisis was over. I promise you it will be, but remember it will take a little time for the messenger to get here.”

Sir Gervaise told me that he knew several people who had suffered from the smallpox and survived. Careful nursing, the sickness taken in time... these things worked wonders!

They did all they could to sustain me, and I began to accept their conviction. “All will be well,” I told myself. It must be. There could not be a world without Bersaba.

I dreamed of her; it was as though she were with me, laughing at my fringe and my shyness with Carlotta. It was almost as though she injected some of her qualities into me. Sometimes I used to think, “We are really one person,” and I believed she was thinking of me at that moment as she lay on her sickbed just as I was thinking of her, so that part of me seemed in that bed of fever and part of her was here in this elegant house learning something of fashions and ways of London society, I liked to listen to Sir Gervaise talking. He knew that I was interested and seemed to enjoy it when I listened so intently.

He told me that he was rather concerned about the way in which the country was moving. The King could not be aware of his growing unpopularity and the Queen did nothing to help.

“The people here are suspicious of her,” he said, “because she is a Catholic and she will do all she can to bring Catholicism into England. Not that she could ever succeed. The people here will never have it. Ever since Bloody Mary’s reign they have set their hearts against it.”

I asked about the King and he told me, “A man of great charm, of good looks-for all he is of small stature-and perfect manners. But he will never win the popularity of the people. He is too aloof. They do not understand him nor he them. He is proud with a firm belief that God set the King on the throne and that his right to be there is unquestioned. I fear it will bring trouble ... to him and the country.” He looked at me and smiled. “I am wearying you. Forgive me.”

“Indeed you are not,” I assured him. “I long to learn something of what is happening at Court.”