Lady Twitchard shrugged. “Something like that. You will have to askhimthe particulars for I do not gossip. Would you care to take tea with me?”
“I would. Thank you.”
Brilliance hoped Lord Hewitt soon sent word inviting her to visit his estate. She would find it difficult to wait, knowing he was nearby. If given no choice, she was willing to break the etiquette that guided so much of her life, but she would much prefer that he be the one to communicate first.
Luckily, she didn’t have to set pen to paper and do anything that would make her sister Purity have a fit. The next day, two letters arrived addressed to Brilliance. One from her dear mother assuring her everyone was well while stressing the need for her to stay put.
And the second — she tore it open to read Lord Hewitt’s brief but welcome words:
Lady Brilliance,
I have sent word to my cousin that I am serving tea and a light luncheon at noon tomorrow with the expectation of your company along with that of the other stranded guests. I hope you will attend.
Hewitt
Her emotions wavered between excitement and chagrin. Going with Lady Georgiana was not in the least desirable. Brilliance had spent hours playing cards with her and with Miss Newton the previous evening until she thought they would wear off all the marks, and still Lady Georgiana held a grudge.
Regardless, Lord Hewitt had singled her out with a private note, and thus Brilliance could ignore the other girl’s discontent.
When the time came the following day, she was ready with her gloves and new bonnet on, waiting in the front hall before the others appeared.
“Oh!” Lady Georgiana exclaimed. “Areyougoing, too?”
As if she didn’t know!They had discussed it over dinner the night before. And Lady Georgiana had gone so far as to speculate why Lord Hewitt was eager to see them all again so soon.
“Perhaps he has fallen in love with one of us,” Miss Newton had said, sticking her fork into a roasted potato with some vehemence.
Lady Georgiana had looked thoughtful and pleased at the prospect. Perhaps that was why the two of them had overdressed for a midday meal, but Brilliance was too polite to mention it.
Lady Twitchard appeared, and they set off on their excursion in their host’s closed traveling coach. Despite the sunny skies, it was prudent not to rely on them staying that way. Plus, they would arrive in a far less dusty state.
Discussion among the four females turned to fashion fairly quickly. They had all seen the magazines from Paris, and how the skirts were predicted to grow fuller, even more bell-shaped with layer upon layer of fringes by the following spring. And wide horizontal stripes on rows of ruffles would be seen on the streets of London.
“I sometimes wish we could go back to the simpler gowns of our grandmothers, with the high waist and a single petticoat,” Miss Newton said. “I have four on today, and my gown is still wilting.”
Lady Twitchard, who was at least fifteen years older than any of them, laughed. “As one ages, the many layers, not to mention the shape of our current fashion, serve to hide multiple flaws, including too many helpings of syllabub and sponge cake with cream.”
“While I have no trouble keeping my slender figure,” Lady Georgiana remarked, “I agree it would be easier to enjoy a warm summer day such as today with a loosely flowing gossamer gown and a roomier bodice.” She slid her hands over her layered, blue cotton bodice.
Brilliance did, in fact, admire the high waistline and loose drape of the dresses from the beginning of the century. But she thought the current style was preferable. “At least wedon’t have to wear the farthingale and hip pads from our great-grandmother’s time. And their tall wigs seemed most uncomfortable and liable to make one’s head hot.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Given our current form-fitting fashion,” Miss Newton said, “perhaps we shall be fortunate if Lord Hewitt has a terrible cook.”
Lady Twitchard chuckled. “I cannot attest to my cousin’s staff, but I believe he hired a new female cook last year. Tight waistline or not, let us hope she knows her way around the kitchen.”
“She probably does,” Brilliance said, “or she would hardly be considered a cook.”
When Lady Georgiana and Miss Newton started to laugh, Brilliance merely shrugged.What had got into them?
“It is simply a figure of speech,” Lady Twitchard said. “I am certain Lord Hewitt’s cook is a real cook.”
Brilliance felt her cheeks warm.Were the others laughing at her?
She was well aware that occasionally she got the wrong end of the walking stick, but there was no excuse for the other ladies’ rudeness. Fortunately, the trip was short, as Lord Hewitt had promised, and Lady Twitchard soon announced they were nearly there.
Brilliance started looking out the window, ignoring the chatter, especially when they went through an adorable village and then turned off the passable road onto a tended gravel drive.
