Her Most Remarkable Performance is OUT!

After months of back and forth I've finally overcome my writer's block and published my e-book, Her Most Remarkable Experience.

I've spent more time on this novella than I probably should have both because of my inherent laziness and my tendency to over-research everything.  I've read hundreds of pages on the 1880s - from fashion, shopping, and wages to music and theatre, not to mention household management and servants. A lot of the details in this book are as historically accurate as was possible and, if you are familiar with the period, you will have no difficulty recognising some of the situations, names and even occasional words and phrases. There are also literary references thrown around that I am not going to spoil for you.

This is the first book I've published and I hope you enjoy it. I've tried to write a definitive lady-to-maid story I personally could enjoy reading and it's only you, dear readers, that can judge if I've succeeded.

I have created a My Books folder on top, which I intend to update in coming months.

You can order the book from Amazon (e-book and paperback) and from Smashwords. Please leave a review if you like it and don't hesitate to contact me directly or leave comments here.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 7.

By Camille Langtry

Another week passed and Mr. Bermingdale, as promised, finally brought to Georgina a list of high-society parties, that were planned in coming days. Until her mother’s death the Ashburtons would have featured prominently among the London season’s most prominent hosts, but not anymore. Needless to say, all the other glittering aristocratic names were still there, trying to out-do one another with their fancy balls, expensive dinners, and fashionable receptions.  

It was surprising to Georgina how uninterested she has become in attending any of those parties. Instead, she concentrated on the task at hand: finding the right soiree, where Evelyn could perform to showcase her singing talent. She just couldn’t disappoint her “mistress”, even as she found Evelyn’s strict-and-disgruntled act incredibly stimulating and almost sensual and was almost tempted to “fail her” so that she could be berated yet again.

Georgina looked at the list in front of her. The D’Asgognes were hosting something this coming Sunday, but Lady Constance was probably the last person in all of London’s high society that Georgina wanted to approach with her little request. Her haughty, imperious manners were well-known. Furthermore, her bitter rivalry with the late Lady Olivia made asking Lady Constance for help impossible for Georgina.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 6.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 6

The following week, not without some hesitation, Lady Georgina came to see Mr. Noble. His office was on the first floor of Evelyn’s theatre and had a separate entrance from the back street. The shining brass plate by the door proudly proclaimed: Dr. Victor F. Noble. Linguistics & Theatrical Art. Georgina sighed deeply and rang the bell. A minute later the door was opened by a middle-aged gentleman in a gray coat, who bowed and introduced himself.

“Mr. Noble. Linguistics and theatrical Art. You must be the lady Miss Fairchild told me about? Please come in. I’ve been expecting you,” said the gentleman in a deep, authoritative voice of a paterfamilias or a university professor.

Lady Georgina followed Mr. Noble into his study, a spacious room with book-lined walls and a large table, which was almost completely covered by piles of paper and notebooks of various sizes. The study’s owner offered Georgina a seat and continued.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 5.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 5

Mr. Bermingdale took off his round glasses and rubbed his eyes. As Miss Ashburton’s trustee it was his duty to take care of all the household expenses and, until about a month ago, he could do it all very quickly during his weekly visits. He would pay all the bills, give instructions to the housekeeper and leave Lady Georgina her weekly allowance. Yet, during the last few visits, he started noticing strange things.

Firstly, the expense numbers were no longer adding up and Georgina’s muddled explanations involving some donations to a church charity and unplanned purchases did not make a lot of sense. It was obvious to Mr. Bermingdale –  he has been a solicitor for 30 years after all and knew the human psyche better than most –  that the young woman was lying. Secondly, Georgina was clearly excited about something –  something she wanted to keep secret from him. The new, livelier Georgina was a welcome change from the recluse she turned into following her mother’s departure, but still Mr. Bermingdale sensed some awkwardness in her –  it was as if she was embarrassed of the source of her excitement. Is she seeing a lover? No, that couldn’t be. It was something else. He’d have to find out.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 4.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 4

A young maidservant, dressed in a black long-sleeved dress with white cuffs and a collar, a large apron tied around her waist, entered the room. It took Evelyn a few seconds to realize that the servant girl in front of her was Lady Georgina Ashburton. The contrast with the rich heiress that she just spoke to a few minutes ago was too great! The only giveaway was Georgina’s hairdo, which was far too elaborate for a simple maid, but her head was now partially covered by a snowy cap, contributing to her overall appearance as a humble servant, awaiting her demanding mistress’s orders.

Georgina made a step forward and curtseyed, looking at Evelyn expectantly.

”Did Madame ring?” she said, her voice trembling just a bit.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 3.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 3

Evelyn had been to houses of the affluent classes before, but she was unprepared for the sheer opulence of the three-story mansion. The Ashburton residence was a flamboyant wonder of polished mahogany panels, Venetian glass, shiny marble floors, gold and crystal chandeliers. The silk-lined walls of the entrance hall were covered by paintings and Evelyn could see two matching Greek statues in a room to the right.

The actress looked in with little-restrained awe at the richness surrounding her as she was led by Sarah through an enfilade into a lavish drawing room that would not look out of place at a royal palace. The lady of the house, a young woman in a silk taffeta high-necked, long-sleeved grey dress with a prominent bustle, rose from the sofa. Her auburn hair was swept up in an intricate cluster of Josephine curls.

“It is very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Fairchild.” The lady smiled and asked Evelyn to take a seat  next to her. “Sarah told me so much about you.”

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 2.

by Camille Langtry Chapter 2
Evelyn Fairchild stood in front of Arctic Fur Store at Chepstow Place and looked in awe at the luxurious offerings on display: fashionable mantles and dalmans, heavy floor-length coats, delicate opera cloaks and wraps, hats and muffs that appeared almost weightless. It wasn’t just the beauty of these items that mesmerized the pretty young woman, it was their extravagant prices. Even the simplest muff went for 12 guineas and a Russian sable coat she loved the most was 70 guineas –  an impossible sum if your weekly wage at the Royal Strand Theatre is just three pounds.

Evelyn did the quick calculation in her head: she would need to starve and stop paying rent for almost six months in order to save enough to buy the fur coat. However, she could probably borrow from some of the girls at the theatre to buy the muff –  and then repay them over a few months –  but what good was a muff if she had no gowns, hats or coats to go with it? Her dresses were nothing to look at, her undergarments were simple cotton, she had only two good pairs of shoes, and her old coat had gone at the elbows and was unlikely to survive the next winter.  She also had no jewelry to speak of. The straw hat she had on was not something one could find in the last issue of Le monde élégant and her plain brown dress’s tournure, in defiance of latest Parisian styles, was far too small. Evelyn was utterly, humiliatingly démodé.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 1.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 1
London. 1884.

The  maid straightened an imaginary wrinkle in her snow-white ruffled apron, readjusted a lacy cap on top of her chestnut hair, knocked on the door and entered her mistress’s bedroom.

“Did Madame ring?”

“Yes, I need help undressing,” said the young mistress, dressed in a bustled crimson ball gown, and set down, facing a large ornate vanity.

“Most certainly, Ma’am”, the maid answered in the most respectful tone of voice she could master and curtseyed. She took the position behind her sitting mistress and started removing hairpins and, after the lady’s hair was set free from the confines of her elaborate evening coiffure, began combing it.

“Ouch! Careful, you clumsy cow… Did you pull any of my ‘air out? It felt like you did. Here, give it back to me.” The mistress grabbed an ivory comb from her maid’s hand and began working on her brown hair in long, confident strokes. “I don’t know why I keep paying ya, girl, I really don’t.”

“I am so sorry, Madame, this won’t happen again,” the maid ventured. The mistress put the comb away and stood up, facing the humbled maid.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Prologue.

At long last I have enough material to start publishing this lady-to-maid opus magnum. I am still working on it, but I thought I'd start sharing what I have with the blog readers to get some constructive feedback. It's really embarrasing to admit how long it's been sitting semi-finished on my hard drive so I've decided to gauge readers' interest in this project that has been dear to my heart. A teaser for now, to be followed by several chapters in coming weeks. Looking forward to your feedback.

Her Most Remarkable Performance

By Camille Langtry

Prologue

New York. 1894.

“Are you sure it is here, Harris?” a young lady looked outside the carriage window in apparent disbelief.  The pouring rain has thankfully ended, the sky was almost clear and Mulberry Street, with its shabby brick tenement buildings, wooden shacks and lopsided sheds, surrounded by heaps of garbage, was now perfectly seen in all its dilapidated glory. This was New York’s notorious immigrant underbelly, considered by many the most dangerous part of the entire city.

“Yes, Ma’am,’’ Harris replied respectfully, opened the black carriage's door and held out the hand to his mistress. He was in his late 50s and sported a greying handlebar moustache that made him look like a retired cavalry officer. The lady, dressed in a stylish hat and an elegant light blue suit with oversized leg-o-mutton sleeves, stepped out, careful not to place her polished shoes in the puddle on the muddy, manure-covered sidewalk. On her delicate shoulders she wore a light fur boa with long tabs hanging down the front.