What should a Duchesse wear when meeting a Scotland Yard Inspector?

Here’s my favorite part in my latest story, “An Affair at Oxbridge”:

It’s in the opening chapter. Set up: December, 1899, very early morning, and the Inspector from Scotland Yard comes to Lady Clarke’s house. Lady Clarke is already awake, in the drawing room, in her bloomers. The butler shows the Inspector into the room, and the inspector is extremely embarrassed when he sees Lady Clarke in her bloomers. But not only that, she’s barefooted, that means exposed digits, exposed ankles, ooooolalala …

“I apologize for coming to you at such an untimely hour, Your Grace,” he said, in a hasty tone. His eyes touched upon Lady Clarke, who was still in her bloomers, and then his gaze flew to his feet, his paleness turning unexpectedly into a flush.

When I initially wrote this scene, it was a very basic dynamic. Inspector comes into the room, Lady Clarke is on a chair, and the story begins. No one notices what she wears.

Ok, but then I thought, hold on, what is she wearing? I didn’t think about what she would be wearing at first because when I think 1890’s and women’s clothes I think long robes and dresses with layers and layers, a nightmare of fabric, so naturally, I was seeing Lady Clarke just very generically swathed in a few layers of fabric.

But that image just doesn’t fit with Lady Clarke. Lady Clarke is extremely carefree, scatterbrained about domestic things, and totally and utterly unconcerned with social norms. She’s a nonconformist. She may be a duchess, but amongst the nobility she’s considered a woman of ill repute because she doesn’t conform to standards: she wears pants, she talks to the servants, she basically goes against all the community guidelines of the day. She is shadowbanned by the other royals, and they only acknowledge her when they must. And they have to acknowledge her because of her title.

So what would she be wearing?

Here you have a woman who just woke up, or rather she hasn’t slept because she had this theory running through her head all night about a murder case, so she wakes up and goes into the only room in the house where she feels in her element to ponder her theory, and she’d put on a dress, or one of those robes they had back then that looked like a dress? No, I don’t think so. She jumps out of bed and pulls on some bloomers, because they’re comfortable, and some kind of chemise, or maybe she just slept like that. And when the Inspector comes unexpectedly, I guess, by convention she would go and put on a breakfast gown.

So would Lady Clarke go and put on a gown?

NO! Here’s why:

1. Lady Clarke is a nonconformist. She couldn’t care less what she’s wearing. And on top of that she’s in her house and she’s not going to change for anyone!

2. What happens when the Inspector comes in the room and sees her in her bloomers? He feels uncomfortable. The Inspector is one of those people who doesn’t think much of the opinion of a woman, he’s here because his superiors ordered him but he doesn’t like it. So under these circumstances why should she put on a dress to make him feel comfortable?

3. When the Inspector sees her in her bloomers another thing happens: it makes the Inspector think even worse of her.

And I love it when a character is underestimated.

Because what happens next is this: by the end of the chapter Lady Clarke gains his respect, and she’s still in her bloomers. And the Inspector totally forgets that she’s still in her bloomers.

And that’s my favorite part!

See you,

Misty