Agatha offered a distinct harrumph in reply.
As if on cue, a maid arrived with a rolling tea cart piled high with sweet and savory offerings. Lottie smiled her thanks to the servant, pouring at Agatha’s nod.
“Remind me again, girl. Were you in a carriage accident or robbed by highwaymen?”
“Our carriage crashed, as you know. How would highwaymen possibly play into it?” Lottie handed a dainty cup and saucer to her godmother, then self-consciously touched her tender black eye, where shades of green and yellow had lingered that morning.
Agatha placed the tea on the small table beside her, settled her hands on the brass top of her cane, then began an exaggerated examination from the top of Lottie’s head to her boots. “It was the only explanation I could think of to explain that ghastly garment you are wearing. I assumed a generous chambermaid lent it to you. Perhaps you have also employed her?”
Lottie’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, sending ripples through her teacup. “I’ll have you know this dress has served me well for almost five years. I think I even delivered a calf in it once.”
“Oh, mercy.” Agatha twitched the edge of her skirt farther away from Lottie’s hem, despite the several feet between their chairs.
As she shook her head at her aunt’s antics, a wave of comfort washed over Lottie. Although the years showed in her appearance, Agatha remained a force of nature. Mother used to say that thunder, lightning, hurricanes, and Lady Agatha were all beyond the control of men.
“Are the workmen on schedule at your house?”
“That seems to depend on the day and with whom you are speaking. I want to be in my own bed for Christmas, but here we are, entering September already. The construction could have waited had I known this would be the year you finally decided to show your face again.”
Knowing her presence inconvenienced Agatha churned waves of guilt. “The timing was not my decision, I’m afraid. I’m only doing this because Father decided to make a match with the Earl of Danby’s son and I refused. I have until November to find an acceptable husband, or I will be forced to accept Mr. Montague.”
Father couldn’t leave his library to fix the tenants’ roofs or myriad other issues, but her marital status was suddenly more than he could tolerate. Lottie swiped two fingers between her brows, smoothing all sign of emotion from her forehead. Mother always warned about such displays causing lines.
“The Earl of Danby’s youngest? Rumor says he is handsome. But those are not the only rumors about him, my love. Be careful with that one. We will find a better match. You were wise to come to London.”
“I hope you’re right. Father promised an estate of my own in addition to my dowry. Let’s pray that is incentive enough to overcome my past.” With her own property, the decisions she made, the improvements and modernizations, would benefit the lives of her tenants. She’d be making a difference, proving once and for all that she wasn’t the vapid Paper Doll Princess anymore.
“You were a scandal, my darling girl. Unlike some of these debutantes, who are witless as a sack of hair, you were innocent of wrongdoing. In these seven years, countless scandals have come and gone,” Agatha said.
“Whether they love me or loathe me, I’m prepared to face the ton again.”
“Your mother would be proud of that decision.” They shared a moment of silence at the mention of the woman Agatha had thought of as a daughter. Agatha sighed, then clapped her hands once, as if to scare away the glum mood. “We can catch up while I show you to your room. You look ready to drop, my dear.”
The town house dated from the century before, standing tall, elegant, and narrow, like so many others on the street. The houses stood in a line like beautifully decorated toy soldiers, ready for inspection by the king.
Inside the home, carved woodwork framed brilliant silk-covered walls, making each room colorful and opulent. In her bedroom, a canopied bed dominated one wall. It would be hard not to be content here.
“I apologize for the uninspiring view of the stonework on the house across the way. But let us count our blessings. We have a corner lot, and any space in Town is precious.” Agatha parted the drapes, letting natural light flood the bedroom.
“This layer of sheer curtains for privacy is rather ingenious.” Lottie fingered the delicate cream fabric. “The effect is so welcoming with the sun lending a glow to the blue walls.”
Agatha smiled, but looked a bit weary. “Without them you could see right into the house next door. Lord knows what things you might witness when looking in the windows of Lord Carlyle’s home. Do you remember him? He is quite fashionable despite his reprobate father’s reputation.”
“I can only imagine the kinds of bachelor goings-on.” Lottie peered out the window just in case there was something to see. A few dark windows reflected the pattern of Aunt Agatha’s stone walls. “Lord Carlyle was at the inn too. In fact, after the accident, he made certain of my comfort. He seemed an affable fellow.”
“How remarkable. A handsome, eligible bachelor, right next door, with whom you experienced a harrowing journey.” Agatha raised a brow.
Instead of pondering their charming neighbor, Lottie’s mind wandered to the dark-haired friend of the eligible bachelor in question. The fickle one who apologized oh so neatly and had touched her cheek at dinner. That path of skin tingled at the memory.
She should have bitten
