Amelia suspected she was alone in finding amorality and dissolution to be negative qualities in one’s husband.
“Of course, he came to Italy.”
A round of snickers followed.
“Butyoucame to Italy,” said Amelia for some reason she couldn’t fathom.
One lady with a particularly wicked smile held Amelia in her cool gaze. “Esattamente.”
That was Amelia put in her place. This time, the snickers directed at her sounded no small amount mean-spirited. She might’ve been one of them according to Debrett’s, but she wasn’t one ofthem, the hard glints in their eyes seemed to say.
She gathered the shreds of her dignity about her—she seemed to be doing that a lot lately—and aimed her feet for the ladies’ retiring room. She needed a moment to herself. She’d made it no more than halfway to her destination when she heard, “Amelia.”
She turned to find Delilah and Juliet fast approaching.
“Dearest sister, you’re as pale as a sheet,” said Delilah. “What is it you’re drinking?”
“Punch.”
“That would explain it,” said Delilah, waving a server over. “You’re in need of something stronger.”
“I can assure you I am not.”
“Like prosecco.” Delilah lifted two glasses of the bubbly spirit off a silver tray.
“Young, marriageable ladies do not drink prosecco at soirées,” said Amelia, refusing to accept a coupe.
“They do in Italy,” observed Juliet.
“Besides, you’re seven and twenty, dear sister,” said Delilah, taking a delicate sip. “You’re too old to be young.”
“Delilah!”
Her sister wasn’t finished. “And as far as marriageability goes, it might be fair to say you’re on the shelf.”
“Only until we return to England,” said Amelia, defensive.
“And what did you call it before then?”
“I simply haven’t met the gentleman who suits me.” Before Delilah could voice more opinions on the matter, Amelia added, “Yet.”
Delilah and Juliet exchanged one of their looks.
“Did you know Archie arrived?” asked Amelia.
“Oh, yes,” said Delilah, “with his great lumbering Scottish friend, Rory.”
“Lord Kilmuir,” corrected Juliet.
Amelia cared not either way. “I didn’t notice him.” She’d only had eyes for the ox.
She wouldn’t be speaking that last part aloud.
“Come,” said Delilah. “Let us look at the offerings for the raffle.”
Twenty minutes later, between the three of them, they’d bought tickets for items ranging from a Lagotto Romagnolo puppy to a marble bust carved by a local sculptor.
“How could we have bid on every single item?” asked Amelia.
