The Secret of the Debutantes

Chapter Two

The next several days were spent in a flurry of activity. I barely had time for lessons with Mrs. Stanhope, a relief in itself! And when I was forced through etiquette lessons, I had the prospect of London to console me!

And, in the midst of it all, a letter from one of my former school friends arrived. Jane Meyer was one of the few girls from school that I stayed in contact with, and mostly because Mrs. Stanhope had decreed I needed to maintain "connections" as she called them. Jane was a nice enough girl, a bit flighty but sweet. Her responses to my letters were few and far between.

I opened the letter and scanned the writing as I walked. The news the brief letter contained took my breath away.

"Serena, you're looking rather pale," Mother remarked from where she was collecting her music together. "Your letter from Miss Meyer doesn't contain bad news, does it?"

"I'm afraid it does, Mother," I said, looking up. "Jane writes that her sister has been killed in an accident."

"Oh, dear. How tragic!"

I nodded and examined the letter closer. The paper as the same as always, but there was something drawn on the lower part of the letter that caught my attention. It was a buttercup. I had knew some young ladies personalized their letters in such a way, but Jane had never done so before this.

"Serena, can you hand me the Wagner?" Mother requested, gesturing to the portfolio of Wagner music that sat near my elbow. I folded my letter, putting it away to consider later, and did as she asked.

In no time at all, it seemed, I was crossing the threshold of my mother's house. This was the first time she'd ever opened it since she'd married Father. The circumstances of Irene Adler and the King of Bohemia are quite well known, tanks to Dr. Watson's publication of the event. For several years, there had been many who'd watched the house to get a glimpse of the owner. Now, enough time had passed, it was simply the unused dwelling of a former performer and her husband.

Immediately, Father was off on his business that seemed to be oh-so-secretive. Mother had the grand piano tuned and began to go through the program she'd outlined. Apparently, she had several performances scheduled during her time in London, and was determined to shine as she'd never had a chance to before.

I was, once again, left to the mercy of my governess and she was determined to make up for lost time. As I was denied being able to make any visits in my current wardrobe, I was initially pleased that Mrs. Stanhope took it on herself to take charge of the update to my wardrobe. However when that, it turned out, involved a smaller corset, I was not so happy with the situation. Mrs. Stanhope was quite intent on making my waist smaller than could possibly be healthy!

"I cannot breathe!" I protested when I was first laced into the torture device at the dressmaker's establishment. I had worn a corset before, naturally, but not one that was nearly so tight or constricting. "Can't you loosen it? Just a little?"

The assistant moved to do so, the look on her face compassionate. "Certainly not!" Mrs. Stanhope said sharply, stopping the girl. "Miss Norton, your waist must be brought to a fashionable size. In a few months, you will don a smaller size to increase the progress."

Oh, I was going to bring this to my mother's attention as soon as possible! She, as a singer, knew the value of a person's lung capacity, which I was not able to fill properly with this contraption! I'd be rid of the corset in no time at all!

"Have you heard the terrible news?" the assistant asked as she took my measurements. Hopefully, I could change the measurements with something more reasonable before they began to sew my new dresses. I only shook my head in response to her question, distracted with trying to breathe. "Miss Amelia Johanson has died! Very tragically, too."