“My sister, the virgin,” Sir John said, and grinned.
“Off with you, Jack. I don’t wish to see that insufferably grinning face of yours until dinner.” It was Louisa who kissed her husband.
“She leads me about by the nose, Hetty.” Sir John gave his sister a gentle pat on the cheek and strolled from the drawing room, humming a tune whose words were best left unspoken and unsung.
Hetty led her sister-in-law up to the blue guest room to chat about styles, Little John’s immense talent in singing, and the new baby that nestled inside its mother’s womb. It was finally Lady Louisa who changed the topic of conversation from her own concerns to Hetty’s. She gazed pointedly at the hem of Hetty’s gown, that was, unfortunately, several inches too short, and said, “You’ve grown taller since last I saw you, Hetty. I hope that your party gowns are sufficiently long to cover your ankles. Come, love, show me your wardrobe, for if you have need of something, I would like very much to go shopping this afternoon.”
As Hetty could think of no polite way to keep Louisa from seeing her pitifully few dresses, she agreed, hoping that at the worst, her sister-in-law would only think her guilty of bad taste.
Louisa made a rapid inspection. She was appalled by the outmoded gowns and wondered just exactly what Hetty wore to all the parties she attended. Because she knew Hetty’s pride to be as great as Sir John’s, she held her tongue, and silently determined to get Hetty to a dressmaker’s that very afternoon under the guise of selecting several new gowns for herself. Unjustly, she blamed Sir Archibald for not providing Hetty sufficient funds to gown herself properly. Didn’t the wretched man realize that a young lady preparing to embark on her first full season was in need of gowns that did not positively shout that she was fresh from the country? Of course he could never realize any such thing.
Hetty agreed to Louisa’s proposed shopping expedition in good humor, knowing full well that her sister-in-law was shocked by her meager wardrobe. Well, she could hardly tell Louisa that Lord Harry was excessively expensive to dress. There was no reason to spend any grouts on Henrietta who was, after all, a mouse and needed only a pair of spectacles and a pea green gown and matching cap.
Hetty knew a moment of fear when they entered her father’s carriage, bound for Madame Brigitte’s. She could only hope that Lady Melberry and the other ladies she had met at the soiree wouldn’t be out and about. Upon their arrival at the select little shop on Bond Street, Hetty’s eyes darted to every corner of the fashionable outer display salon in search of anyone who might recognize her. My luck is holding so far, she thought to herself. She then turned her attention to a very décolleté cerulean blue satin gown that would, Madame Brigitte assured her, transform her into a regal princess. “Yes, indeed,” Madame assured her. “It’s just the thing for a young lady of your regal height.”
“Do let me make it a present to you, my dear,” Lady Louisa said. “After all, I didn’t get you a birthday present.” She had, but she lied well to her sister-in-law, just hoping that Hetty had forgotten.
Hetty had forgotten. If only Lord Harry would complete his vendetta with the Marquess of Oberlon so that Henrietta Rolland could emerge into society as she really was. Only then could she wear the lovely gown.
When the ladies returned to Sir Archibald’s town house, they found Sir John in the drawing room, dressed in severe black evening clothes, his cravat meticulously arranged by his perfectionist valet, Planchard. To Lady Louisa’s fond eye, he presented a very handsome picture. Hetty appeared to agree with Lady Louisa, exclaiming, “Good heavens, Jack. What a handsome devil you are.”
He grinned engagingly down at her from his noble height. “Damned if you aren’t right, little one. I suppose that I haven’t a groat to my name with both of you gone for such a long time.”
“Two groats left,” Louisa said.
“I’ll even add a groat if you’re going to insult us,” Hetty said. “You only purchased me a belated birthday present.” Hetty pulled up short and looked at him, cocking her head to the side, for there was a certain smugness in his smile. “All right, Jack. What have you done? Come clean, else you won’t leave this drawing room alive.”