She beamed at their hostess. “Your house is so pretty.”
“You’ve said that,” Ford told her. Six times.
Her gaze swept the magnificent molded ceiling, the gilt cornice, the heavily carved fireplace, the enormous flower arrangements set on every flat surface. “Well, it is pretty.”
Ford felt his shoulders tense. While Trentingham Manor was opulent beyond anything the Chases owned, Jewel didn’t have to keep saying it. She was making him out a pauper. Between the two of them, any hopes he had of impressing the earl and his wife were sinking fast.
“Milk, milord?” the maid asked. “Sugar?”
Ford nodded. ”Both, if you please.”
Dorothy? he wondered. Daisy? She set a small silver pitcher on the table.
“I have the sugar,” Rowan announced. As the boy passed the bowl along with a tiny silver spoon, Ford looked at him and wondered if he’d have been called Daisy were he born a girl.
Probably. Or Daffodil. Or Peony, perhaps.
Jewel tugged on the maid’s sleeve. “Dinah, can I have tea?”
“May I please have some tea,” Ford corrected her automatically. Dinah, he thought with relief.
“May I please have some tea?” his niece repeated obediently. “I love tea, but Uncle Ford doesn’t have any.”
Tea was still somewhat of a novelty and frightfully expensive; heaven knew he didn’t stock it at Lakefield House. Apparently Violet’s family could afford anything they wanted. And now, thanks to Jewel, they knew he couldn’t.
Violet leaned close. “Children rarely think before they speak,” she whispered sympathetically. “Rowan is no different.”
He knew that was true. But criminy, was his discomfort that obvious? Avoiding her gaze, he focused across the room on the Tudor linenfold paneling—painted white in the latest fashion—while he waited for his tea.
“Good heavens,” Lady Trentingham said. “I almost forgot to tell everyone the news. My maid Anne is getting married.”
“That’s wonderful, Mum.” Lily actually clapped her hands. “Is she wedding that coachman you introduced her to?”
“Of course. I knew they would suit.”
Rose sipped from her wineglass. “Her betrothed is from the Liddington estate, isn’t he? Where will they live?”
“Here, naturally. We’ll hire him on.” The countess laced her fingers together atop the mahogany table. “Anyone can replace a coachman, but I cannot do without Anne.”
“So that makes six matches for you this year?” Lily asked.
“Just so. But I introduced Lord Almhurst to Lady Mary Spencer last week, so I expect I’ll be up to seven soon.”
The maid arrived with the tea and poured. “Thank you, Dinah,” Ford said, hoping the Ashcrofts noticed how respectful he was of their servants. He lifted the absurdly small spoon and began shoveling sugar into his tea. Though he didn’t share his twin sister’s habit of eating dessert before the meal, he did share her sweet tooth.
“Seven weddings,” Rose said with an impressive sigh. “In case you haven’t heard, my lord, Mum is the unofficial matchmaker for all of Southern England.”
“I’ve introduced people from the North as well,” Lady Trentingham said a bit huffily.
“How admirable.” This talk of marriages was making Ford nervous, so he decided to change the subject. “What time shall I fetch you to go to the village tomorrow?” he asked Violet.
Her hands went to the frames of her spectacles. “Oh, I…well—”
“She cannot go,” Rose put in from across the table. “Mum has arranged for her to have new gowns fitted.”
Rose graced him with a wide smile, but although she had charming dimples, he didn’t find himself charmed. Odd, considering her tall, willowy beauty was reminiscent of Tabitha.
“Perhaps I can accompany Rowan instead,” she added. “I know how much he’s looking forward to the outing.”
“It won’t take the entire day,” Ford said. “The village is hardly a metropolis.” An understatement—Jewel would likely finish her shopping in twenty minutes. He spooned in more sugar—pure white sugar, he noticed, imported from the West Indies, no doubt. Another sign of the Ashcroft wealth. He turned back to Violet. “I can come by for you and Rowan in the afternoon, following your fitting.”
Behind her new lenses, her eyes clouded. “I—I…” She shifted on her petit point seat cover. “I’m not certain I’m ready to be seen in public,” she blurted. “With the spectacles, I mean. I know everyone will stare and ask questions. Perhaps after I’m more used to them—”
“You goose,” Rose interrupted. “Just take them off.”
Violet’s hands went protectively to the sides of her face, as though she were afraid her sister might snatch them off herself. “I like to see,” she said. “I don’t want to take them off.”
“If you’re going to insist on walking around with glass and metal on your head, then you’ll have to get used to people staring at you.”
“Rose.” Lady Trentingham’s tone was soft, but a warning nonetheless. “Our Violet prefers not to be the center of attention,” she explained to Ford.
“Please pass the sugar,” Lily asked sweetly.
“I’d like some, too,” Rose said. “Put it between us.”
Ford sent the sugar across the table. “How about if we go to Windsor, then?” he suggested to Violet. “It’s much bigger than the village. You’re unlikely to run into anyone you know there, and Jewel will find a larger shopping selection.”
Violet looked unconvinced, but Jewel’s eyes lit like green beacons. “Good idea, Uncle Ford.”
“But—” Violet started.
“Yes, it is a good idea,” Rose interrupted. “Except that will take all day, so Violet won’t be able to go. But as I said, I’ll be happy to go instead.”
“Rose.” Now her mother’s voice sounded more exasperated. “That won’t be necessary. I can send a note to Madame and reschedule the fitting for another day.”
“But—” Violet tried again.
“A perfect plan,” Lady Trentingham concluded.
EIGHTEEN
“HOLY HADES,” Rowan whispered. “Look at that thing.”
As they headed toward the river, Violet glanced at Harry walking in front of them, his bald head shining in the sun. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to hear.
“Hush,” she told Rowan. “You don’t want me to tell Mum you’re talking like that,
