Glory over Everything: Beyond The Kitchen House(36)

One morning a few weeks into my seventeenth year, in March 1814, I was informed by Mrs. Burton that at the end of the month, there was to be a celebratory evening dinner and I was expected to attend.

“Mr. Burton and I have an announcement to make,” she said, “and we are having our friends in to celebrate.”

I was surprised to hear of the social gathering, as the Burtons were solitary people, but when I asked to know more, I found Mrs. Burton unusually secretive. “It is to be a formal occasion, and everyone shall be in full dress. With Robert at the helm, we shall have a celebration that will rival any we have ever had!” She smiled at me. “And that, dear boy, is enough for you to know.”

I was silent as I thought it over.

“Jamie?” she asked. “I know that look. You have a question?”

“I don’t believe that I have suitable dress,” I said.

She smiled. “And that is why I’ve arranged for you to visit Mr. Burton’s tailor. You must consider it our treat.” Thus, two days later, I went for my first fitting of formal attire.


IN THE DAYS before the celebration, a cleaning service was hired and strictly supervised by Robert, who saw to it that each room was scoured from top to bottom. Silver and china were taken from storage to be cleaned, even the chandeliers were lowered and washed. Additional servants were brought in, and the Burtons decided that in spite of Delia’s upset, Robert was right to bring in another cook to preside over the kitchen for the elaborate meal.

Because of Mrs. Burton’s hints that the evening had something to do with me, I began to think that it might be about my apprenticeship. Although Mr. Burton had recently suggested that I might soon be drawing wages, we had never formally discussed my future with his business. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if this might be an occasion where he would offer me a position in his company. More than anything, I wanted to continue to work for him, though I worried that given a salary, I might be expected to live independently. How I dreaded the idea of leaving this home.

I had already begun to dress myself for the evening when there was a rap at my door.

“I have come to assist you,” Robert announced formally.

“To assist me?” I asked.

“Yes, I have been sent by Mrs. Burton.”

“How kind of her,” I said. “But you have so much to do. Are you not needed elsewhere?”

“I am happy to be of service to you this evening,” he said, as professional as ever.

“I appreciate your offer, Robert, but I believe that I have everything I need.”

Robert studied my long black pants, which hooked down under my new polished black shoes. “This style suits your figure well,” he said.

“Do you think so?” I asked. “I hope that Mrs. Burton approves.”

“I am certain she will.”

I looked back at the bed, where I had laid out my new silk waistcoat and dark blue jacket. Beside it was a crisp white cravat. The tailor had schooled me in the tying of it and I hoped I remembered the correct knot. “Actually, Robert,” I said, going over to the bed and lifting up the cravat, “now that I think of it, I would appreciate a hand with tying this.”

“What style were you considering?” he asked.

“What would you suggest?”

Robert didn’t hesitate. “For this evening a Maharatta tie would do well.” He placed the starched linen fabric to the back of my neck, brought the ends forward to join them as a chain link, and expertly fastened the remainder of the cloth in the back. As he helped me with my waistcoat, he voiced admiration of the embroidered blue flowers that dotted the ivory silk. When my jacket was in place, he tugged the tails straight and gave it a quick brush.

I slipped on the black silk eye patch that the tailor had designed to fit as flawlessly as a well-made glove, then I turned to Robert for his appraisal. “What do you think?” I asked.

Robert looked me up and down, then gave a rare smile. “It is a handsome look,” he said. “Mr. and Mrs. Burton will be pleased.”

“Do you think so, Robert?” I asked again.

He nodded. “I do,” he said, then gave my shoulders a last quick brush before he held open the door.


THE DRAWING ROOM, just off the dining room, was already filled with guests when I entered. Mr. and Mrs. Burton were waiting for me, and together they took me on rounds to greet everyone. I already knew Nicholas and his wife and had met the family lawyer a number of times, but this evening I was introduced to his attractive young niece, a Miss Grewen.

When Robert opened the doors of the dining room to announce dinner, there was a collective gasp of delight. Candlelight from the low-hanging chandelier lit the glittering silver and crystal on the long dining table. Masses of white blossoms spilled over onto crisp white linen, and the scent of jasmine was thick in the air.

Robert, stylish in a blue body coat, blue trousers, and a yellow vest, stood at the ready alongside six assistants, all dressed like him, minus the yellow vest. A disgruntled Delia was positioned next to the sideboard.

When I was seated in the place of honor on Mrs. Burton’s right, I had no doubt that this evening was about my promotion. But with so much attention on me, I had grown increasingly uneasy and wished the Burtons had not made this fuss. Yet I could see Mrs. Burton’s excitement, so I forced myself to smile at her, for I had never seen her this happy.