Page 21 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘I always fancy myself as an opera singer,’ replied Mrs Dowson with a bright-eyed smile.

‘Then I shall be your accompanist,’ Miss Rosewood announced rather daringly. She walked to the piano a little unsteadily and dropped the music all over the floor. This was apparently hilarious to all the women, including herself, and they spent a good five minutes picking it up and arranging it while Gwen watched with amusement. It was rather like watching a nursery of young children. When Miss Rosewood began to play and Mrs Dowson to sing (with an excellent alto voice that was wasted on the church congregation) it becameapparent that pages three and five had become disordered and Miss Rosewood had created an entirely new song.

Throughout the display, Miss Salisbury remained upright on her chair, hands closed over the top of her cane, her face bearing an expression of mild amusement as if she was watching the bears at London Zoo. Her eyes slid towards Gwen, and she beckoned her across the room. Gwen left her seat and sidled round the edge to join her.

‘You haven’t taken any of your marvellous concoction. Why not?’

Feeling slightly ashamed of her poverty, Gwen admitted how she had arrived. To Miss Salisbury’s credit, she did not react.

‘You haven’t sampled it either,’ Gwen pointed out, ‘and yet you came in a carriage, I believe.’

The corner of Miss Salisbury’s mouth twitched. ‘I do not place myself in situations where I am not fully in control.’

Somebody rapped on the front door and the two women looked towards it. Immediately Miss Rosewood became alert.

‘One of the servants will get that,’ she said, breezily.

Moments later, Mr Rosewood’s voice boomed through the hall, followed by the softer murmur of another male voice.

‘Lord, he’s back early,’ Miss Rosewood sighed and closed the lid of the piano. Her voice was slightly slurred.

There was a knock on the door, then a dignified man dressed in a black suit entered.

‘Miss Rosewood, your uncle says he was not aware you had visitors, but he will carry on with his business in his study. He would be grateful if you could ensure that chatter is kept to a minimum.’

‘Thank you, Evans. Please assure him we will endeavour not to disturb him,’ Miss Rosewood instructed, with composure that was admirable. She turned back to the room and Gwen wasquick enough to see the irritation on her face before she blinked and drove it off. She held her hands out.

‘Ladies, I’m afraid, we must curtail our merriment for now.’

The women began to gather their skirts, slightly clumsily, standing and exchanging affectionate farewells. Gwen moved slowly, hoping to be able to speak with Miss Rosewood alone. Miss Salisbury was the last of the other women to leave. She paused on the doorstep and drew close to Miss Rosewood, beckoning Gwen to join them.

‘I found this afternoon very intriguing. I wonder if you might both be free for a morning visit with me on the fifteenth day of February. I fully intend to sample it myself in my own home, and I assume that you will have enough left in the bottle by then? Miss Rosewood, you know my address. Mrs Walters, please take my card.’

She held a visiting card out to Gwen who took it, then she walked towards a single Brougham, snapping her fingers in the air to alert the coachman of her approach.

‘What a remarkable woman,’ Gwen murmured.

‘Yes, she is.’ Miss Rosewood’s voice was thick with admiration. ‘Would you like to stay a little longer? I’m sure Uncle Conrad would be pleased to speak to you and there’s plenty of cake left.’

‘Do you think it’s wise that you see him?’ Gwen asked, glancing over Miss Rosewood, who was swaying slightly and had a beatific smile on her lips.

‘Perhaps not. In which case, please keep me company so that he doesn’t come searching for me.’

Miss Rosewood and Gwen returned to the sitting room. They sat side by side on the settee, plates laden with cake. There was an informality to their closeness that was very pleasant.

‘I think that was a success, other than my uncle appearing and preventing us selling doses. It’s very vexing when he comes home early.’ Miss Rosewood sighed.

It was rather an unfair judgement, given that it was his house, Gwen considered.

‘Never mind. Miss Salisbury appeared very keen on sampling it. Do you think we should go visiting?’

‘We absolutely must! I’ve always wanted to see inside her house,’ Miss Rosewood said. It would be interesting to see how Miss Salisbury lived, especially if she was considering setting her cap at Uncle Conrad.

Gwen looked at the card and the inscription printed in curling script.

The Hon. Miss S. Salisbury. Cartwright Square, Bloomsbury.

‘Honourable? How did you meet her?’ Gwen asked. It explained the woman’s authoritative nature and her calling Miss Rosewood by her given name.