The Swan Maid. Dilly Court

don’t look the type who could stand the life of a camp follower, or the sights and sounds of the battlefield, with gunfire, and mangled bodies lying on the ground and soldiers dying in agony and calling out for their mothers.’

      ‘Have you ever been on a campaign, Mrs Manners?’

      ‘Certainly not, but I’ve heard the soldiers’ tales and I’m very glad that I live here, in this lovely house, where I am safe from such horrors. Think hard before you get involved with Lady Aurelia, Miss Lane. Think very hard.’

      The mention of Lady Aurelia’s name brought Lottie back to the present with a start. She had almost forgotten that she had duties to perform other than making herself comfortable in her new quarters. ‘I should be unpacking Lady Aurelia’s cases,’ she said urgently.

      ‘So you should. I was wondering when you were going to remember why you are here.’ Mrs Manners moved a little closer to Lottie, sniffing the air. ‘I suggest you purchase some cologne, Miss Lane. You have a very distinctive odour, and it is not pleasant.’

      ‘Yes, Mrs Manners, I’ll do that, of course.’ Lottie backed out of the room. ‘Excuse me, ma’am. I have a lot to do.’

       Chapter Five

      Lottie had barely finished unpacking the large trunk when Lady Aurelia breezed into the room. ‘Heavens, did I bring all that luggage with me?’ She sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I thought I brought only the bare essentials.’

      ‘I’m sorry, my lady. I would have been quicker, but I’m not entirely sure where everything goes.’

      ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Aurelia said airily. ‘I’m sure it will come in time, but for now I need you to find a suitable evening gown for me to wear. The regimental dinners are so tedious, but one must attend. I shall need you to accompany me, Lottie.’

      ‘What do I have to do, my lady?’

      ‘Very little. You take my cloak and wait for me in the anteroom. It’s only a short walk to the officers’ mess, and I usually make my escape from the proceedings when the ladies leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars. Between you and me I find the other wives a complete bore.’ Aurelia kicked off her shoes and threw herself down on the satin coverlet.

      Lottie gazed at the gowns she had unpacked and laid out over the back of a chair. ‘I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t know which one to pick.’

      ‘I feel crimson,’ Aurelia said lazily. ‘Magenta is my favourite colour. I intend to be a peacock amongst the dowdy hens.’

      It was not hard to find the shimmering silk taffeta gown amongst the paler muslins and satins. Lottie held it up and the creases seemed to iron themselves out as if by magic. Bugle beads glistened on the bodice and she could imagine how it must look by candlelight. ‘It’s beautiful, my lady, but the waist is so small. I’m not sure I could fit into such a gown.’

      ‘Then it’s lucky you won’t have to.’ Aurelia snapped into a sitting position. ‘You’ll have to lace my stays tightly, or I might have a problem myself.’ She yawned and reclined once again amongst the embroidered pillows. ‘I won’t be able to eat a thing, so you must ask Cook to send a tray to my room when we return. She knows what I like. Wake me up at half-past six, Lottie. I think I’ll take a nap.’

      When Lottie first arrived at the officers’ mess, she had not realised that the Dashwoods’ house was adjacent to the barracks. It was a warm evening and Aurelia refused to wear her cloak, leaving Lottie to carry it for her. Colonel Dashwood had changed into mess dress and applied a liberal amount of bay rum to his thinning hair and an additional splash of cologne, which left a perfumed trail in his wake as he escorted his beautiful wife into the building. Lady Aurelia had been less liberal with the scent bottle, but the sunlight played on her golden coronet of curls, and turned the beads on her bodice into molten glass. Her waist, accentuated by the swinging bell of her crimson skirts, was whittled away to a hand span, and her low décolletage was complemented by a ruby and diamond necklace with matching earrings. Lottie basked in her reflected glory. She felt a sense of pride, like an artist who had created a masterpiece for the rest of the world to admire and praise, and it did not matter that her own gown was plain and downright dowdy.

      Lady Aurelia outshone all the other women present, and it amused Lottie to see them dragging their husbands into the mess hall in an attempt to keep them at a safe distance from temptation. The unattached officers paid their respects, bowing over Aurelia’s gloved hand while keeping a wary eye on her husband. She greeted them with a pleasant smile and a nod of her head, but her attitude changed subtly when Gillingham approached. Lottie noted with some surprise that her ladyship’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled as she held her hand out to him.

      ‘Ah, Gillingham,’ Colonel Dashwood said affably. ‘Be so good as to escort my wife to the table while I have a word with the major-general.’ He patted Aurelia on the arm. ‘I’ll join you in a moment, my dear. I need to speak to Fluffy.’

      ‘Of course, Dashwood. Take as long as you like. I’m in good hands with Farrell.’ Aurelia slipped her hand through the crook of Gillingham’s arm, and they walked off, chatting like old friends.

      ‘Fluffy?’ Lottie murmured, gazing at the gentleman in question whose mess dress was heavy with gold braid and his chest emblazoned with medals.

      ‘Major-General Frederick Fothergill, known to his friends as Fluffy.’

      She turned to find herself looking into the smiling face of Private Ellis, although she barely recognised him in his smart uniform. His pallor had been replaced by a healthy glow and the ugly bruise on his forehead had already begun to fade.

      ‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon, although I hoped you might still be here.’

      ‘I certainly didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to see you again so soon, Lottie.’ He glanced at the velvet cloak she was holding. ‘How did you become involved with Lady Aurelia?’

      ‘You make it sound like a crime,’ she said, laughing. ‘She has taken me on as her personal maid. I’ve come up in the world from washing out chamber pots.’

      He shook his head. ‘You might think differently if her ladyship decides to follow her husband to the Crimea. It’s no place for a woman.’

      ‘Miss Nightingale doesn’t think so.’

      ‘Miss Nightingale has no experience of warfare.’ Gideon glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a sharp command. ‘I’m on duty, Lottie. Are you going to wait here for her ladyship? These affairs can go on well into the small hours.’

      ‘I suppose so. She told me to wait, so I suppose I must.’

      ‘Private Ellis.’

      The staccato bark of his sergeant made Gideon snap to attention. ‘I might see you in between courses.’ He marched into the mess hall and the door closed behind him.

      Silence echoed round the anteroom and for a moment Lottie thought that she was alone, but a muffled cough behind her made her turn her head to see a woman wearing the severe black uniform of a lady’s maid. The woman crossed the floor to stand beside her. ‘I’m Maggie Cole, Mrs Fothergill’s maid. You must be standing in for Miss Merriweather.’

      ‘I’m her replacement – Lottie Lane. Miss Merriweather is remaining in Bath, so I’ve been told.’

      ‘Poor old thing. She struggled to keep up with her ladyship. Sometimes she’d look so tired you’d wonder how she managed to keep going, so I’m not surprised.’ Maggie put her head on one side. ‘Where did you work before this?’

      Lottie hooked the cloak over one arm. ‘I should hang this up or it’ll get creased.’

      ‘Give it to me and I’ll do it for you.’ Maggie took