“I have alreadybeenpresented. By you, Mama. Only last year.”
“Indeed,” Theo murmured. “And we all recall how that ended.”
“I heard that.”
“Nevertheless,” Georgie said smoothly, “it is customary for a young lady entering her second Season to be formally reintroduced under the auspices of a relation of suitable standing—particularly when her first concluded with, shall we say… vigour.”
“Scandal,” Hetty supplied.
“Distinction,” Lottie countered.
“Disaster,” said Theo.
Lord Tolliver nodded vigorously. “Very good! Mari may enjoy another year with her books, and Charlotte may terrify London at her leisure under a sponsor. But who shall act as sponsor? We have no relations of high standing, do we?”
Georgie lifted one brow. “Well, Papa… as it happens, I am now a duchess. And therefore, ideally placed to act as Lottie’s sponsor.”
Lady Tolliver gasped. “Youshall sponsor your sister?”
“Whyever not, Mama? As Duchess of Morleigh, I am obliged to see to the advancement of my sisters. With your blessing, I shall escort Charlotte to Lady Malverne’s spring garden party and the first assembly at Almack’s.” She turned to Lottie, her expression composed. “And I shall be watching you like a hawk.”
Lottie narrowed her eyes. “You are aware I intend to misbehave?”
“Indeed. That is precisely why I must keep an eye on you. Under my guidance, you shall do so strategically, and with a mind to find a suitable husband. A duchess cannot afford to sponsor a catastrophe.”
“If you are sponsoring me, darling, the catastrophe is assured.”
Lady Tolliver pressed her lace kerchief to her breast. “Another scandal would be the end of me, Charlotte!”
Nell pushed the salts across the table as though quite used to the routine.
Lady Tolliver took a deep sniff and resumed. “Still, I am comforted to know you shall be in such capable hands. A duchess in the family! And Almack’s is indeed a most appropriate beginning—provided we can secure the vouchers.”
“They are already arranged,” Georgie said.
“Useful fellow,” Lottie murmured, casting a sidelong glance at Morleigh.
The duke inclined his head. “On occasion.”
Lady Tolliver brightened. “Well then, dearest, we must make a list of suitable engagements. Lady Braithwaite’s ball, the Trotters’ masquerade, the Compton musicale, and the theatre, of course.”
“I have a box of my own, Mama,” Georgie said. “We shall use that. And you needn’t attend if your health is afflicting you.”
“Yes, Mama, you must rest,” Hetty added, wincing. “Although perhaps we should avoid the March of Charity Ball. Last year the refreshments were tepid and Lottie danced atop the supper table.”
“It was a raised platform,” Lottie said with injured pride. “And it was entirely part of the cotillion.”
“It was a minor scandal,” Theo muttered.
“It was exhilarating,” Lottie replied, eyes gleaming. “This year I fully intend to top it.”
“I’ve no doubt you shall,” Georgie said, dabbing her lips. “Just ensure you do so in a manner that does not result in another hasty removal to the countryside.”
“Where is the delight in sensible mischief?”
“Where is the future in scandal?” Georgie returned.
“I want no future that involves monogrammed linens and tedious accounts,” Lottie said, rising with a languid stretch. “I desire intrigue. And champagne. And perhaps an adventure or two involving a gentleman with excellent shoulders and abysmal judgement.”
