“So, what is it you’ve come to ask of me?” Demelza inquired, interrupting her thoughts of Sebastian.
“Why would you think I have something to request of you?” Livie replied, though she shouldn’t be surprised Demelza already knew that. Her aunt had always been especially perceptive, not to mention having a very good network of gossip she was privy to. One of the reasons she was so effective in intimidating others—she knew everyone’s business. A handy trait for someone who dictated the goings-on in Society.
“Well, don’t you?” Demelza said, as she guided Livie into the room, which was furnished with a rich blue rug and two crimson lounges seated across from each other in the center of the room. The room itself was elegant and refined, yet exuded an air of one best not dare touch anything inside.
Much like its owner, Livie supposed.
“Well…yes, I do have something to request of you,” Livie replied as she sat down on the settee across from her aunt and then adjusted her leg and skirts. “You don’t actually know what it is, do you?”
“I’m not a mind reader, my dear, as much as some of those buffoons in Society like to believe.” Demelza, too, sat and adjusted the skirts of her gown, placing her cane by her side, in a manner mirroring Livie.
“Then how did you know I have something to ask of you?”
“It’s practically written all over your face, my dear. A trait you really should learn to master, as people will take advantage of you if you do not.” Demelza glanced beyond Livie to the doorway where a maid was standing, carrying a tea tray. “Good gracious, Mary, stop standing there and bring the tray in!” she exclaimed to the hesitant maid, who was bowing her head so much that the cap she was wearing nearly completely covered her face. “You know how I cannot abide cold tea.” She motioned the girl in, who swiftly but carefully crossed the room before placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them and then scurrying from the room.
“It’s so hard to get good help nowadays. She’s new, so do forgive her.” Leaning forward, Demelza poured them both a cup of tea, then handed Livie the steaming brew perched daintily atop a porcelain saucer. “Well, come on then, gal. Out with it. What do you wish to ask of me?”
Demelza clearly wanted to get straight to the point, and though Livie had thought of little else all night except how to broach the topic of sponsoring Sebastian’s sister, she’d come up with little to assist. Of course, it hadn’t helped that every time she thought of the matter, images of the man himself kept intruding. “How interested are you in taking on a particular project?”
“A particular project?” Demelza took a dainty sip of her tea, her eyes peering across at Livie over the rim of the teacup. “What sort of particular project?”
“The sort I doubt anyone else would be up to the task of…” Livie let her voice trail off, knowing that such a statement should at least pique her aunt’s interest.
“Go on.”
Yes, Livie, go on. Sighing heartily, Livie continued, “Well, now that I think upon it, I fear it may even be too difficult for you…”
“Too difficult for m-me?” Demelza spluttered before regaining her composure and raising an eyebrow with just the right touch of affront and curiosity that Livie knew she’d injured the old lady’s pride. “My dear girl, nothing is too difficult for me if I have a mind to do something. It is simply whether or not I have a mind to do it! So out with it. What is this thing you question whether I could do?”
Livie paused, more for deliberate effect, as Demelza did thrive on the dramatic. “Well, the thing is, I have a friend who wishes to have his half sister marry a gentleman.”
“And what, pray tell, is the great difficulty with that?” Demelza enunciated with volume. “Don’t all men wish for their sisters to marry a gentleman?”
Feeling another sigh was warranted, Livie exhaled heartily. “They’re not from Society, you see. Her father is a doctor, and though a very noble profession, he does treat the poorer classes in his surgery in Cheapside, so he is not very well-to-do. And apparently the girl herself requires a few lessons in etiquette…”
Demelza blinked in rapid succession. “How on earth would they then have the contacts or the blunt to afford a season, let alone secure the matrimonial hand of a gentleman?”
“Oh, money is not a problem,” Livie was quick to reassure her. “Her brother is extremely wealthy and has endowed upon her a very sizable dowry. All he needs is a sponsor for the girl. A sponsor who would ensure no one would rebuff or give her the cut direct. A sponsor with such a reach and reputation in Society that none would dare offend the girl for fear of incurring her sponsor’s wrath. Though I really don’t know if there’s any such person in London who could ensure the girl was accepted regardless of her humble background…”
Demelza’s eyes narrowed upon Livie. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing, my girl. You know perfectly well I command such respect. And to question so is ridiculous.”
“I don’t know, Aunt.” Livie shrugged. “For the last two seasons Lady Rutherford has sponsored the year’s most sought-after debutant, garnering her somewhat of a reputation for being the arbiter of who is to be the diamond of the season. Society seems to be looking to her now for matters relating to debutants.”
Her aunt’s eyes narrowed further and she harrumphed aloud again. “Lady Rutherford wouldn’t know a diamond from a glass stone. It was sheer darn luck that that woman managed to sponsor those two girls in successive years, both of whom had sizable dowries and came from the gentry. There is
