Kitty blushed and bent her head, trying to focus on the sleeve she was attaching to a jonquil spencer.
“Would it have to do with a certain Mr. Cooper?” she asked, her brows rising.
“It might,” she admitted. When she looked up, Lydia’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“He’s an excellent young man. Intelligent, kind, makes a good living, and handsome, though I suppose you haven’t noticed the last.”
Kitty snorted, then covered her nose with her hand, her eyes wide. Both women burst out laughing as Genie entered the room.
“What did I miss?” she asked, hands on her slim hips. She wore a lilac sprigged muslin, her hair pulled up in a loose chignon, long blonde curls falling against her cheeks. A simple lilac ribbon adorned her crown.
“Just teasing our new friend,” said Lydia.
Those words warmed Kitty, and she blinked back the unexpected emotion. What generous hearts these ladies had, to admit her into their world without question and offer their friendship. If there were more people like them—and the O’Briens—the world would be a much sweeter place.
“Clayton told me a certain brother spoke with a certain person’s father, giving said brother leave to court the daughter.” This time, it was Genie waggling her brows.
“You would make a terrible spy,” said Lydia, laughing. “In other words, we need to be sure to act as chaperones tonight when Benjamin arrives.”
“I ordered the flounder from the fishmonger, and it will be delivered later this afternoon,” Genie said, ignoring her aunt’s jab. “I decided against the green hastens. I can’t see spending the extra money on canned peas when they will be cheaper and fresh in July.”
“I have early potatoes and some turnips left. I’m using the last of the carrots for a soup.” Lydia leaned over Kitty’s shoulder, observing the stitches.
Kitty was already used to the informal inspections and welcomed any advice for improvement. She had never been one to cringe from criticism, especially when it was well-intended. “Are the stitches close enough?”
“Up until here,” said Lydia, pointing at a stitch that was a little off. “It won’t take but a minute to pull those few out and redo it.”
As she finished the sleeve, Kitty hummed. Since arriving, she had gone from devastated and frightened to optimistic about her future. The cards were falling in her favor. Perhaps Mr. Cooper was her lucky charm. Poor man, she thought with a grin.
Cursed Cooper, Mr. Walters had said. At one point, we stopped using the term “with a little luck” because it never happened.
Maybe she would turn out to be lucky for Cursed Cooper.
“The fish was perfect,” said Mr. Cooper, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “According to my sister, Nora, flounder can be easy to overcook.”
“That is correct, which is why it is better to poach it with lemon and a little white wine.” Lydia beamed at the compliment. “I hope you saved room for dessert. I used the last of the winter pears to make a crumble.”
“Be still, my heart,” said Mr. Cooper.
When they gathered in the parlor, Genie took out a deck of cards, stared at it, then put it away. She gazed about the room, obviously searching for an activity that didn’t include any type of luck.
Aunt Lydia came to the rescue. “Let’s play a word association game. We will each have three slips of paper and will write a word on each. The first player chooses one from the bowl and announces the contents. Then each player afterwards must say a word that is associated.”
Genie explained further, “So, I read the word ‘sky,’ the next player may say ‘blue,’ and the next says ‘ocean’ and so on?”
“Exactly,” said Lydia. “There is no winner or loser, so luck has nothing to do with the game.”
Kitty realized the ladies were trying to help Mr. Cooper save face from losing any games. It was typical of them to be so considerate, but she thought the solicitor was quite used to his lot. However, the game sounded intriguing, so she played along.
Genie passed around pencils and tore a sheet of paper into strips. They each wrote a word on the slips, folded them, and tossed them in a porcelain bowl. Lydia picked up the container, stirred the paper with a forefinger, then chose a piece.
“Frog,” she said with a laugh and turned to Kitty.
“Leg,” Kitty said and looked at Mr. Cooper.
“Up,” he quipped.
“Over,” called out Genie.
