Mistress Elaine Sissy
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Mistress Elaine Sissy
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Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Lettice is visiting her family home after receiving an invitation via her parents for a musical evening at the grand Victorian Gothic home of the Chetwynd’s neighbours, Lord Sherbourne and Lady Isobel Tyrwhitt. The Tyrwhitt’s only daughter, Arabella, is engaged to Leslie with a wedding planned for the autumn. Whilst the families are used to spending time with one another Lord Sherbourne, who has a great love of music, is using the gathering of the two aristocratic families to indulge in his passion. After freshening up after her train journey from London to Glynes, Lettice has been informed by Bramley, the Chetwynd’s butler, that her father is ill in bed with a head cold and is not to be disturbed, and that refreshments are being served by her mother in the morning room, the thought of which sinks Lettice’s spirits.
“Ahh, Lettice,” Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, calls from her favourite wingback chair by the fireplace where she sits embroidering. “There you are. Do come and sit down.” She indicates with a sweeping gesture to the less comfortable armchair sitting across from a small side table graced with a vase of beautiful golden yellow tulips.
“Good afternoon, Mamma.” Lettice replies as she walks into the room, Lady Sadie’s signature scent of lily of the valley immediately tickling her nose as she steps across the threshold.
The Glynes morning room always makes Lettice a little nervous. She feels at home in her father’s grand library, but this is very much Lady Sadie’s preserve, and Lettice has never felt that she can be at ease in the morning room, which she associates with her best manners. The original classical Eighteenth Century design has been overlayed with the comfortable Edwardian clutter of continual and conspicuous acquisition that is the hallmark of a lady of the Countess’ age and social standing. China cabinets of beautiful porcelain line the walls. Clusters of mismatched chairs unholstered in cream fabric, tables and a floral chaise lounge, all from different eras, fill the room: set up to allow for the convivial conversation of the great and good of the county after church on a Sunday. The hand painted Georgian wallpaper can barely be seen for paintings and photographs in ornate gilded frames. The marble mantelpiece is covered by Royal Doulton figurines and more photos in silver frames. Several vases of flowers stand on occasional tables, but even their fragrance cannot smother her mother’s ever present Yardley Lily of the Valley scent.
“Now you’re here, I’ll ring for tea.” Lady Sadie continues, reaching over to the handle by the fireplace to ring servant’s bell.
The fire in the grate crackles welcomingly whilst a gilt clock’s muffled tick marks the time with regularity.
“Oh fair to middling,” Lady Sadie replies as she sets aside the embroidery on her lap. “Mustn’t grumble. I’m better than your father at any rate. Did Bramley tell you he is laid up with a bad head cold and is not to be disturbed.”
Lettice stands before her mother and leans down as the older woman leans up from her seat, the two exchanging a whispery kiss on the cheek where their skin almost connects, but not quite.
“Don’t you look lovely today.” the older woman remarks as she gives her youngest daughter an appraising look. “I’ve always liked you in powder blue. It suits your pallor.”
“What’s this?” Lettice asks as she slides herself gingerly into the seat proffered by her mother. “Paying your errant daughter a compliment, Mamma? You must be up to something.”
“How very cynical of you Lettice.” her mother replies, a tone of offence in her voice. “That’s Gerald Bruton’s acerbic tongue influencing you again. Can’t a mother compliment her daughter on her choice of outfit?”
“Not when it’s you, Mamma,” Lettice sighs. “However, I suppose whatever is generating your magnanimity will worm its way out over tea, I’m sure.”
“Can’t a mother have a convivial chat over a nice cup of tea with her daughter?”
“There is usually an ulterior motive with you, Mamma.”
Ignoring her daughter’s unkind, yet truthful, remarks, Lady Sadie continues, “How was your trip down from London?”
“Quite pleasant thank you, Mamma. I have a new novel which I started on the railway journey, so the time passed quickly.”
“You should be reading The Lady* or Horse and Hound**, not those silly romance novels you young girls read nowadays.” Lady Sadie scolds with an irritated flick of her hand. “They give your generation peculiar ideas about love and marriage and fill your heads with silly notions about romance and modern love, whatever that is.”
“I seem to recall that my generation was not the one to invent the romance novel, Mamma. Just look at Elinor Glynn***.”
“Yes, well! The less said about that scandalous woman, the better.” huffs Lady Sadie.
“And if you mean by modern love, the idea of actually getting to know the person you think you might marry before you announce it in The Times, then yes, I support that idea wholeheartedly.”
“What a load of nonsense. Marriages are made my mothers, you silly girl.”
“In your day, Mamma, maybe. Not now.”
Their quickly heating conversation is broken by a gentle knock on the morning room door, through which one of the Chetwynd’s housemaids, Alice Emmery, appears after being summoned. Dressed in her afternoon uniform of a black frock and pretty muslin apron and cap, she bobs a curtsey after depositing a silver tray of tea things and a plate of dainty biscuits onto the central table.
“Oh Emmery, how is your mother?” Lady Sadie asks kindly.
“She’s still laid up in bed with the same head cold His Lordship has, Milady.” the maid answers.
“Well tell her that I’ll do a bit of sick visiting in the next few days, won’t you?”
“Yes Milady.” Emmery bobs another curtsey. “Will there be anything else Milady?”
“No. Thank you, Emmery. I can pour the tea myself.”
Mother and daughter wait for the housemaid to discreetly leave and quietly close the door behind her before continuing their conversation.
“Oh you are awful, Mamma,” Lettice says as she leans over and takes the two empty dainty floral china cups and saucers from the tray and places them on the table between the two of them.
“It’s not all being lady of the manor and embroidery all day, Lettice.” chides Lady Sadie as she picks up the plate of dainty brightly coloured cream biscuits and places them on the table between them too. “I have my Lady Bountiful**** work to do too, and that includes looking in on the estate workers’ families.”
“I know Mamma, but now Emmery will go home and tell her mother, and then she’ll be up out of her sick bed cleaning her cottage from the attic to the cellar in an effort to impress you. Heaven forbid Lady Bountiful should sit upon a dusty seat!”
“Oh don’t talk such nonsense, Lettice.” Lady Sadie wraps her hand around the handle of the silver teapot and pours brackish red tea into Lettice’s cup and then her own. “And don’t try and distract me from what I was going to ask before Emmery interrupted us.”
“Ah, see!” Lettice remarks triumphantly, adding sugar to her tea. “I knew your compliments didn’t come ex gratia.”
“Nonsense! I’m just interested in my daughter’s welfare and any recent social developments. Isn’t that the obligation of all mothers?”
“So, my wellbeing is an obligation is it, Mamma?” She adds a drop of milk to her tea before passing the jug to Lady Sadie.
“Don’t take what I say so literally, Lettice.” Lady Sadie remarks with an irritated sigh as she pours a thin stream of milk into her own tea. “Your constant game of one-upmanship is tiring, not to mention tiresome.”
Lettice sinks back into her chair and lets her gaze stray from her mother’s expectant face across the table to the little gilt cherub statue sitting next to the vase of tulips. Holding a small ornamental tray aloft, it’s sweet face seems to mock and tease her cheekily. “Well, if it’s Selwyn you are asking about, Mamma, I have seen him since the Hunt Ball.”
“Aha!” Lady Sadie sits up in her armchair and arches a finely plucked eyebrow as she sips her tea and stares with barely controlled excitement at her daughter.
“Just once, mind you, Mamma. Selwyn and I haven’t had much time. We went to… yes, well never mind where we went.” She swallows the name of the Metropole Hotel quickly since her mother miraculously doesn’t seem to know that she and Selwyn have had their first rendezvous. “We went out for luncheon last week.”
“And it was very pleasant.” Lettice replies coyly, taking a sip of her tea. “We talked quite a bit about our interests, his architecture, and my love of interior design.”
“And?” Lady Sadie leans a little harder on the left arm of her chair as she stretches a little more closely, almost predatorially, towards Lettice.
“Oh Mama! You really are infuriating! Yes, we’ve agreed that we will see one another again soon, but I’m not quite sure when. It will depend upon our schedules, as we are both busy socially and workwise.”
“That’s fine! That’s fine!” Lady Sadie releases her pent-up breath, her figure physically deflating a little as she lowers her cup into its saucer on the table and sinks back into her chair comfortably. “As long as I know that my daughter’s first assignation with the Duke of Walmsford’s heir has been successful, I’m happy.” She reaches out her bejewelled left hand and takes Lettice’s empty right hand in it, squeezing it encouragingly. “There is progress at least, for my errant daughter.”
Used to being at war, or at the very least on an uneasy truce with her mother, Lettice finds Lady Sadie’s smiling face and seemingly genuine pride rather unsettling. Surprisingly, she releases her own pent-up breath that she hadn’t realised she had been holding as she prepared for the usual inquisition from her mother, and it comes out in a quiet juddering stream. “Good,” she sighs. “Now that we have that formality out of the way, might we talk about tomorrow night?”
“Of course, of course!” Lady Sadie giggles girlishly, another reaction Lettice has seldom seen in her mother before.
“What time are we due to arrive at Uncle Shelbourne’s?”
“Eight o’clock, for a light supper, so I’ve asked Cook to serve luncheon at two tomorrow and we’ll have chicken pies rather than a joint.”
“Oh, just family. Sherbourne and Isobel, Arabella and Leslie of course, Nigel, you and I. Not your father. Even if he should be feeling better, I don’t want him riding in the cold motor even with blankets and hot water bottles.”
“Well that does sound like a jolly party.” Lettice says with a smile, genuinely looking forward to a musical evening of fun and hijinks with the family she has spent so much time with over the years that they are like aunt, uncle and cousins to her.
“Now, thinking of Leslie and Arabella’s wedding,” Lady Sadie begins.
“Oh please don’t tell me that I have to be bridesmaid.” Lettice whines. “I know that Bella’s the only daughter, but surely there are Tyrwhitt cousins who can escort her down the aisle.”
“Heaven forbid!” Lady Sadie raises her right bejewelled hand to her throat and worries her pearl necklace. “Not when things are going so well with young Spencely!” Her sparkling eyes grow wide in their sockets. “Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. No! We shan’t take that risk.”
“So would you be if you were me during this delicate time in your budding romance with young Spencely.” Lady Sadie replies sagely. “No, as you know, poor Isobel hasn’t been well, what with the radiotherapy treatment for her cancer. And Arabella does need her trousseau managed.”
“I already told you over the telephone that I will happily host Bella at Cavendish Mews and take her shopping around London.”
“Good! Good! I just wanted to make sure that, circumstances,” Lady Sadie places emphasis on the last word. “Hadn’t changed.”
“Mamma, even if Selwyn and I had decided after our first assignation that we were going to get married - which we haven’t - it could hardly be arranged before Leslie and Bella’s wedding!”
“Well, you young people move at such a frenetic pace these days.” She takes up her teacup again. “Oh, and thinking about clothes.” The older woman eyes her daughter with a suddenly steely gaze more usually reserved for Lettice. “I do not want you wearing a shop bought hat to your brother’s wedding. I know you’ve had a falling out with Madame Gwendolyn, and I also have it on good authority that that was a Selfridges hat you wore to Princess Mary’s wedding*****. The very idea! What were you thinking?”
“Well I…” splutters Lettice, dropping the biscuit she has just selected back onto the plate where it spills forth crumbs from its impact with the gilt edged plate.
“You might have only been one head in Westminster Cathedral, but you will play an important part in Leslie’s wedding, and I do not wish for you to be photographed in a shop bought hat.”
“What’s wrong with a hat from Selfridges?” Lettice exclaims. “I looked very fashionable at the royal wedding, and Lady Cavendish****** even complimented me on it.”
“No Lettice!” Lady Sadie says in a matter-of-fact tone that tells Lettice that even if she were to have the most exquisite hat from the Oxford Street department store’s millinery department it would not be good enough. “I do not wish you to be dressed in a hat that could be bought by a middle-class draper’s daughter of means, or worse, one of the villagers invited to the wedding like the Miss Evanses, who just might take it upon themselves to go up to London to shop for new outfits for the occasion at Selfridges. The Miss Evanses are just the type of people who would shop at Selfridges.”
“Mamma, everyone shops at Selfridges in London.”
“You say that like it is a commendation, Lettice.”
“No, either go back, cap in hand, no pun intended, to Madame Gwendolyn,” Lady Sadie pronounces in an imperious tone. “Or find yourself a new milliner of your choice before the wedding. End of discussion.”
*The Lady is one of Britain's longest-running women's magazines. It has been in continuous publication since 1885 and is based in London. It is particularly notable for its classified advertisements for domestic service and child care; it also has extensive listings of holiday properties.
**Horse and Hound is the oldest equestrian weekly magazine of the United Kingdom. Its first edition was published in 1884. The magazine contains horse industry news, reports from equestrian events, veterinary advice about caring for horses, and horses for sale.
***Elinor Glyn was a British novelist and scriptwriter who specialised in romantic fiction, which was considered scandalous for its time, although her works are relatively tame by modern standards. She popularized the concept of the it-girl, and had tremendous influence on early 20th-century popular culture and, possibly, on the careers of notable Hollywood stars such as Rudolph Valentino, Gloria Swanson and, especially, Clara Bow. Elinor Glynn’s sister was Lady Lucille Duff Gordon the Edwardian fashion designer who survived the sinking of the Titanic in a lifeboat so empty that it became a scandal in the aftermath of the sinking.
****Lady Bountiful is a term used to describe a woman who engages in ostentatious acts of charity to impress others, and was often used in Edwardian times by titled ladies to describe themselves when conducting their charity or ministering works.
*****Mary, Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood (1897 – 1965), was the only daughter of King George V and Queen Mary. She was the sister of Kings Edward VIII and George VI, and aunt of Queen Elizabeth II. She married Viscount Lascelles on the 28th of February 1922 in a ceremony held at Westminster Abbey. The bride was only 24 years old, whilst the groom was 39. There is much conjecture that the marriage was an unhappy one, but their children dispute this and say it was a very happy marriage based upon mutual respect. The wedding was filmed by Pathé News and was the first royal wedding to be featured in fashion magazines, including Vogue.
******Mary Alice Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, was a British courtier who served as Mistress of the Robes to Queen Elizabeth II from 1953 to 1967. She was the granddaughter of Prime Minister Robert Gascoyne-Cecil, 3rd Marquess of Salisbury.
Cluttered with paintings, photographs and furnishings, Lady Sadie’s morning room with its Georgian and Victorian furnishings is different from what you might think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures from my collection including pieces from my own childhood.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The gilt edged floral teacups and plate on the table in the foreground come from a miniatures specialist stockist on E-Bay. The wonderful selection of biscuits on offer were made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The fluted squat cranberry glass vase on the table is an artisan miniature made of hand blown glass which also came from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures. Made of polymer clay that are moulded on wires to allow them to be shaped at will and put into individually formed floral arrangements, the very realistic looking golden yellow tulips are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany. The tiny gilt cherub statue I have had since I was a teenager. I bought it from a high street stockist who specialised in dolls houses and doll house miniatures. Being only a centimetre in height and half a centimetre in diameter it has never been lost, even though I have moved a number of times in my life since its acquisition.
The silver tea set and silver galleried tray, which peeps from behind Lettice’s table on the central table in the midground, has been made with great attention to detail, and comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces.
Lady Sadie’s morning room is furnished mostly with pieces from high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq. Lady Sadie’s armchair is a Chippendale piece, whilst the gild decorated m
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