Drew spun to the collected group. “Everyone, listen very carefully. If ever you’ve held me in even theslightestregard, if your feelings for me extend even one notch above hate, I implore you—I beg you—listen very carefully and do as exactly as I say.”
Ian frowned at her.What the devil?
Ivy closed the book. Imogene snatched the ball from the air and raised an eyebrow.
“Who is Lady Blicken?” Imogene demanded. “The woman on the soap label, isn’t she?”
“That’s LadyLichen,” corrected Ivy.
“Quiet, please,” said Miss Trelayne, placing a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “LadyBlickenis married to Viscount Blicken—at least at present—and she is . . .” adeep sigh, “. . .my mother. More importantly, she is no one with whom to be trifled.”
She took another deep breath. Ian had never seen her so agitated. Even after being discovered with him in the gallery, she’d not appeared so distraught. He took a step closer. Would it be appropriate to touch her? He wanted to take her hand.
“Let us all endeavor to do everything exactly as I say,” Drew went on, “and perhaps she will... we will—Perhaps the day will not be ruined.”
“Ruined?” said Imogene.
“What am I saying,” muttered Drew. “We would be very lucky indeed, if she restricted ruination to only one day.”
“You exaggerate,” said Ian.
She’d not wanted him to meet her family prior to the wedding—it had been her very strong preference—and Ian had complied. He was annoyed by most people and generally considered it a small triumph to make the acquaintance of fewer, rather than more.
Drew’s dire warning continued. “If we are too inviting, she will linger; if we are too dismissive, she will scurry away and espouse our rudeness far and wide. If we are proud, she will deflate us. If we are humble, she will exploit us. If we are—”
“What if we are simplynot home,” Ian suggested, “to callers?”
“No. The least-damaging thing to do is to receive her for a short time and get it over with. Greenly, where did you put her?”
“The pink salon, Your Grace.”
“The pink salon, the pink salon...” Drew repeated.
“It’s the one with all of the pink,” provided Imogene.
“Yes, that will do as good as any,” Drew said, thinking out loud. “Is she alone, Greenly, or is the viscount with her?”
“Alone, Your Grace.”
“Right. Very well.” She turned to the girls. “Imogene,Ivy, do yourselves this favor and stay entirely out of view. Ivy, take your French studies upstairs and finish in your bedchamber. Imogene, carry on with your lesson and do not leave the ballroom until I come for you.”
“Surely you do not expect me to hide away without even a peek,” complained Imogene. “Not after this preamble.”
“Surely I do,” Drew said absently. She was patting her hair, smoothing her skirts. She recovered gloves from her pockets and worked her hands into the soft leather.
“And miss out on meetingLady Lichen?” complained Imogene. “You’re basically suggesting that we’ve been paid a visit by a right demon. How often doesthishappen? I should like to see a demon.”
“Remember all of the demons pointed out by Reverend Sagg?” Ivy reminded.
“Those were not actual demons, Ivy, those were simply women he did not like.”
“Well, my mother is not a demon,” said Drew, “but she is someone that I do not like. We needn’t stoop to name-calling; believe me, it has no effect except to make her more beastly. And anyway, there is nothing to see, Imogene, I assure you. She looks like any other woman of a certain age. In fact, she’s rather pretty. But heed my warning, young women far shrewder than yourselves have been taken in. Her innocent features are deceptive and she can reduce you to tears with a word.”
“Challenge accepted,” laughed Imogene, cocking the tennis ball behind her head, tossing it up, and serving it across the ballroom in the direction of Bucky.
The large woman caught the serve on an upswing and lobbed it back. Imogene darted to the net and returned the volley, laughing as she went.
“Do not leave this ballroom,” Drew called to the girl. “Imogene, please, I beg you!”
