sending Alice away was for her own good and, more importantly, would help protect the family reputation.
She sat at her dressing table and studied her face in the mirror. Admiring her near perfect features was one of Temperanceâs greatest pleasures. She was ageing well, and was still by far the most attractive woman in her circle. But she was overly critical, and as she stared at her pale skin, she could not help noticing the faint trace of lines that had recently appeared around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. She frowned. It was all Aliceâs fault. All the trouble and worry that girl caused was bound to leave its mark.
Temperance reached for her toilet chest and opened the polished walnut lid. Inside, the chest was lined with dark green velvet and nestled into various pockets were numerous silver-topped glass bottles and pots, a small pair of silver scissors and a pair of mother-of-pearl tweezers. Her little box of magic, she thought guiltily. It was much frowned upon for any lady of good standing to embellish her face with cosmetics. It was a vulgar practice, only indulged in by vile creatures who sold themselves on the streets and the painted ladies of the stage. But Temperance was shrewd, and excelled in the subtle application of certain ingredients that enhanced her beauty and disguised any signs of ageing. Her beauty had, after all, served her well so far, and deserved to be protected.
Hidden in the toilet chest, amongst bottles of respectable medicinal treatments, were Temperanceâs pots of wonder, and in particular, her precious pot of Crème Celeste â obtained from a discreet chemist in Bristol. She unscrewed the lid, and in a moment her blemishes and small lines disappeared under a coat of the waxy paste as she smoothed it deftly over her face. The paste smelled pleasantly of sweet almonds and rosewater, and the scent relaxed Temperance as she moved through her daily routine: a touch of carmine to her cheeks, a slick of beeswax to her lips and a drop of lemon juice in each eye. She felt calm, her balance of mind restored, and as her face bloomed back at her from the mirror, her mind filled with thoughts and plans. Once Alice was out of the way, she would be able to concentrate fully on the smooth running of the household and her work with the Bridgwater Ladiesâ Committee. She would let it be known that Alice had been sent to relatives in the north, and as for Lillie  â¦Â well, even if the girl survived she could not come back to Lions House. There would not be a position for her once Alice had gone, and besides, a mute servant was of no use to anyone.
Temperance plucked a stray hair from her brow. She would organise an arrangement of flowers to be sent over to Lady Egerton, the most elaborate that money could buy. The situation could be salvaged. After all, her Ladyship could hardly blame Temperance for Lillieâs accident when she herself had succumbed to misfortune. Temperance smiled into the mirror. A last dusting of ground pearl powder to her cheeks and a dab of lavender behind each ear, then she would ring for Jane to come and dress her.
Nine
I pace my room. From the window to my bed and back again. From my dressing table to the door, to the end wall and back to the window again. Mama cannot mean it. She cannot mean to have me sent to an asylum. The word fills me with horror. It is where the mad are sent: wretches with no minds of their own. It is the sort of place that people only speak of in a whisper.
The madhouse
. I shake my head. Am I dreaming this whole morning? If I am, it is a nightmare. I pinch my arm hard.
But I heard them outside my door. Mama and Dr Danby. Although muffled, I heard it all. I heard the doctor call me mad and I heard Mama, only too eager to have me sent away. Even though I know it is still locked, I pull and turn the door handle. Someone must come to me soon. To explain it all away. To tell me what I heard was a mistake. I bang
She sat at her dressing table and studied her face in the mirror. Admiring her near perfect features was one of Temperanceâs greatest pleasures. She was ageing well, and was still by far the most attractive woman in her circle. But she was overly critical, and as she stared at her pale skin, she could not help noticing the faint trace of lines that had recently appeared around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. She frowned. It was all Aliceâs fault. All the trouble and worry that girl caused was bound to leave its mark.
Temperance reached for her toilet chest and opened the polished walnut lid. Inside, the chest was lined with dark green velvet and nestled into various pockets were numerous silver-topped glass bottles and pots, a small pair of silver scissors and a pair of mother-of-pearl tweezers. Her little box of magic, she thought guiltily. It was much frowned upon for any lady of good standing to embellish her face with cosmetics. It was a vulgar practice, only indulged in by vile creatures who sold themselves on the streets and the painted ladies of the stage. But Temperance was shrewd, and excelled in the subtle application of certain ingredients that enhanced her beauty and disguised any signs of ageing. Her beauty had, after all, served her well so far, and deserved to be protected.
Hidden in the toilet chest, amongst bottles of respectable medicinal treatments, were Temperanceâs pots of wonder, and in particular, her precious pot of Crème Celeste â obtained from a discreet chemist in Bristol. She unscrewed the lid, and in a moment her blemishes and small lines disappeared under a coat of the waxy paste as she smoothed it deftly over her face. The paste smelled pleasantly of sweet almonds and rosewater, and the scent relaxed Temperance as she moved through her daily routine: a touch of carmine to her cheeks, a slick of beeswax to her lips and a drop of lemon juice in each eye. She felt calm, her balance of mind restored, and as her face bloomed back at her from the mirror, her mind filled with thoughts and plans. Once Alice was out of the way, she would be able to concentrate fully on the smooth running of the household and her work with the Bridgwater Ladiesâ Committee. She would let it be known that Alice had been sent to relatives in the north, and as for Lillie  â¦Â well, even if the girl survived she could not come back to Lions House. There would not be a position for her once Alice had gone, and besides, a mute servant was of no use to anyone.
Temperance plucked a stray hair from her brow. She would organise an arrangement of flowers to be sent over to Lady Egerton, the most elaborate that money could buy. The situation could be salvaged. After all, her Ladyship could hardly blame Temperance for Lillieâs accident when she herself had succumbed to misfortune. Temperance smiled into the mirror. A last dusting of ground pearl powder to her cheeks and a dab of lavender behind each ear, then she would ring for Jane to come and dress her.
Nine
I pace my room. From the window to my bed and back again. From my dressing table to the door, to the end wall and back to the window again. Mama cannot mean it. She cannot mean to have me sent to an asylum. The word fills me with horror. It is where the mad are sent: wretches with no minds of their own. It is the sort of place that people only speak of in a whisper.
The madhouse
. I shake my head. Am I dreaming this whole morning? If I am, it is a nightmare. I pinch my arm hard.
But I heard them outside my door. Mama and Dr Danby. Although muffled, I heard it all. I heard the doctor call me mad and I heard Mama, only too eager to have me sent away. Even though I know it is still locked, I pull and turn the door handle. Someone must come to me soon. To explain it all away. To tell me what I heard was a mistake. I bang
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