Saturday, 22 April, 1870

I feel much refreshed after a bit of sleep and tea and some excellent toast.

Last night we had some discussion of going to Liverpool to help conclude the investigation there, and moreover to ensure that there are no more dangerous experimental subjects on the loose.

That idea was entirely vanquished, however, with the morning post, which brought all of us invitations to Lord Greyminster's Opening of Parliament Ball on Wednesday next. Sir Cosmo was thrown for a loop to say the least. All of us got invitations of our own. I have not received an invitation in my own right since I was twenty years, and never, even as a governess, have I been invited by such a high-station host. Edward was particularly invited to join the other coachmen in the below-stairs areas. I'm sure that's for the best, as he has yet to learn the social graces of a person in service.

Now comes the anxiety of what to wear, Miss Namaste was delighted to learn that a lovely gown was already in the works for her, It was to have been a surprise gift from Sir Cosmo, but her anxiety on the topic prompted Graves to reveal it early.

I have not had this concern for my own part in so long, I don't even have a crinoline of this season's style, as I've been making do with my same old circular ones and just tying them in back. I don't think that will work for an evening style.

Fortunately, I have some money set aside from the reward we received from the Crown and Sir Anthony after the arrest of Gerrold Moriarty. Now the question will be, is there a dressmaker who can do the work in time? I feel absurdly excited. I can only hope that I don't make a fool of myself, acting younger than I am.

On a professional note, I also received a kind note from Mr Scuddamore, answering that he would like to read the moth paper on my behalf. He said that he had simply lost track of my request and apologised for the late response.

I had some anxiety today about some applicants Sir Cosmo and Graves were interviewing for household Situations. Two were clearly looking to be cooks, and that was fine. One, however, was very plainly intending to be a Housekeeper. I have had difficulty with every housekeeper I have ever crossed paths with. They always seem to be trying to keep governesses under their power, put them in their place.

I made what I thought was a casual-seeming inquiry about that applicant to Graves. He assured me that it was a misunderstanding on the applicant's part, and that Sir Cosmo had no intention of hiring a Housekeeper. I would swear he recognized my anxiety. I suppose one doesn't become a high-placed man in service without a certain sensitivity to others' moods.

We have made a hurried appointment with Miss Namaste's dressmaker, now to encompass also Miss Whitnell and myself.

I hope there will be time to do some work with Edward after that, as all our adventures for the past few days have left little time for study.

The last item of interest today was a tea-time visit by Mr Ramsay, who came to assist Miss Whitnell with her studies. He has been admitted to the League's confidence with the approval of Sir Anthony, and I find him much more pleasant company now that I'm not trying to make him go away as fast as possible.

Sunday, 24 April, 1870

We all attended services today, Nothing untoward occurred.

Master Nigel Graham came to lunch, as is becoming our household custom. He was wearing a startling set of bruises. It seems that I was mistaken about his family's opinion of Miss Namaste. Master Nigel's cousin made some denigrating comments about Miss Namaste, and he chose to defend her honor in the only manner his ill-bred cousin would understand. He seemed quite embarrassed about it, though I understand that he did force his cousin to retract the statement.

Sir Cosmo has need of his coachman today, so I am somewhat at loose ends. I have decided to sit with Miss Namaste and Miss Whitnell while we all work on our decorations for the Ball. Miss Namaste's hair is always a difficulty (it being so thick and heavy), and I need to contrive some sort of headdress to go with my new gown. I have to admit, I am enjoying this odd moment of frivolity.

Monday, 25 April, 1870

Well, back to work today. I spent all morning with Edward, and we were very diligent in Geography. He has now graduated to maps of England. I showed him all the places I have seen, and had Situations, described the geology of different counties, talked about the various industries. He was interested in mining and in the shipbuilding areas, especially, but unfortunately I know little detail about those industries. Perhaps we shall make a research project of it.

I also pointed out locations relevant to our adventures. He has never been out of Town, as near I can tell. I expect he'll be interested to see how very far France and even India are, and perhaps we can get Dr Wilson to tell of his travels, when we begin to use the world map and the globe.

Now, in the later afternoon, Edward is again engaged to drive Sir Cosmo on various errands about town.

Miss Whitnell and Mrs Cuthbert are closeted with their books. As long as they don't start making any circles of writing, and burning vile incense, I suppose I'll just have to be tolerant. I am beginning to perceive that there is a certain method and order to these sorts of things, and that they respond to laws of cause-and-effect like everything else in the Universe. I just haven't the faintest idea of how it all works, and I hate that lack of understanding. I never know what could happen.

On a lighter note, I heard a rather funny sotto-voce conversation between Graves and Salmalin late last night. They both walk so quietly I can barely hear them. As a result, they seem to be startling one another on their nightly inspections. They were both so very polite that I could tell they both felt the sting of offended dignity. I'm sure they'll find a solution.

Tuesday, 26 April, 1870
(afternoon)
I picked up my new gown today. I am quite happy with it, though I had to be quite insistent about only two tiers of flounces, and no fringe. I want to look like a human being, not a rococo chaise! I'm sure that the dressmaker was pleased in the end, though, as I can't imagine how she'd have had time for any more decoration than I have now. The dress is a marvelous dark blue silk. Most of the skirt and bodice are Taffeta, with sections of Damask in the same color. I have gotten just a bit of the fabrics in order to make up a few flowers for my hair. If I take the dark blue ostrich plume and the coq from my best hat, I should cut a decent figure.

I wish Mr Frazer could see it, if only he were going to be at this party! Oh, dear. I seem to have taken leave of my senses for a moment there. Although he's a fine man, and we share so many interests, I mustn't forget that I'm not a girl, rather I am above thirty years. He has never indicated other than professional interest and perfect, disinterested decorum. Oh, for goodness sake, this whole event has me as silly as a schoolgirl. I think I'd better get on with some actual work, to clear my head.

I do have one worry about the Ball. What if something untoward happens, and I'm stuck standing around in my fancy gown, quite as helpless as women are supposed to be? That has happened to me quite enough in the past week. I think I must at least keep a Reform Dress costume in the carriage at all times, or perhaps even contrive to wear sensible garments under my more conventional ones. I have been intending to make up some garments of this sort for some weeks now, but I haven't had much time. Perhaps I will start right after the furor over this Ball is over.

Meanwhile, I can hear Edward hard at work in the workshop with Sir Cosmo, so I think I'll start on my floral embellishments.

Thursday 28 April, 1870
(morning)
I didn't even write in this journal yesterday, we were all so busy with preparation for the ball.

We all managed to get dressed and ready in time.

Miss Namaste looked lovely in her new dark red, set off by a necklace of amber and ruby which Sir Cosmo gave her Tuesday evening.

Miss Whitnell had a typically stylish gown, in black of course in respect to her late father, but she consented to wear some jewelry of jet.

Mrs Cuthbert also looked elegant in her black but with the solemn, poignant look of a recent widow.

The Gentlemen were all nicely turned out as well, and both Salmalin and Edward looked very snappy in their livery.

The belle of the ball turned out to be Miss Namaste. I'm sure it helped that there were very few young unmarried ladies present, but she would turn heads anywhere. Her dance card was quite full. I heard a rumor circulating that she was an Indian Princess come on diplomatic business, and that Salmalin was her bodyguard. No one asked me directly, so I had no cause to refute the story.

I was pleased to see Mr Aidan Ramsay at the gathering.

While I danced with him, he told me something very odd. He said that I have the "Gift of Quiet." That seems unlikely, considering that those who really know me consider me opinionated. However he said that my aura blocks magic perception, or something like that. This might be useful, if it's true (and I have no reason to doubt Mr. Ramsay's expertise nor his sincerity).

I actually did get a chance to use this "gift" last evening. A gentleman named Lord Blackhall was in attendance. I disliked him immediately for his air of menacing insincerity (any Governess worth her salt could spot a snake like that).

I learned that he was an old enemy of Mr. Ramsay, and has a very unsavory reputation. He is, by Mr. Ramsay's report, and Miss Whitnell's and Mrs Cuthbert's confirmation, a "dark sorcerer" of some sort.

This man, like every man in the ballroom, showed an interest in Miss Namaste. When he began to approach her, Miss Whitnell signaled to me, and I moved to intercept him, in the middle of the floor, as though I were simply crossing the room, but looking at him. As soon as I drew near to him, he met my eyes, and gave a little gentlemanly-looking nod (since, not being introduced, he couldn't well speak to me). He veered off in another direction quite suddenly, as if repelled. Miss Whitnell and Mrs Cuthbert had interposed themselves between Blackhall and Miss Namaste. The whole maneuver looked unremarkable to the casual observer, I'm sure, but Lord Blackhall got the message.

Lt Wooster kept company with Mr Cuthbert at the bar all evening.

Sir Cosmo was mainly in the card room, leaving the chaperoning of Miss Namaste to the three of us ladies. He had our well being at heart, though. I heard him speaking to Sir Philip Bond, who has been making himself unpleasantly friendly toward Miss Whitnell and Miss Namaste of late. Sir Philip made some unrepeatable remarks. Sir Cosmo told him in no uncertain terms to leave us alone unless our mutual business for the Crown required a meeting.

I received a flattering number of invitations to dance, and enjoyed myself very much.

The dinner was sumptuous, and although I tried to select carefully, I did suffer stomachache for my enjoyment of the evening.

The rest of the group was tired and wished to retire after dinner. I could have danced longer, but I didn't want to inconvenience the rest, or pout like a child. I'm sure it's just as well, for my feet still feel sore from the unaccustomed slippers.

In all, I found the evening excellent, and our host gracious (even when Miss Namaste knocked two items off their pedestals and one shattered).

I suppose that the last item of the ball is that I shall have to start calling Miss Namaste "Miss Chigwidgeon," since I'd say that she's now Out In Society, Presented or not. I understand that she is the eldest daughter, and entitled to use her surname.

Today, I will have to get something productive done. I think I'll plan on some botany, some drawing, and some penmanship for Edward, and in the evening some planning for the next paper. I wonder if we will ever settle into a routine in this household. I must suspect that we shall not. But as long as there are almost as many parties and outings as there are explosions and villainous monkeys, I shouldn't complain.

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