looked as if she was on the scent, although for what, Arabella couldn’t tell.
She also wondered what the wigmaker had used to achieve that particularly flat shade of black that had surely never naturally occurred on a human head.
The earl tore his gaze away from this aged vision to address Arabella. “Come, Arabella, and meet a dear friend of mine, Lady Lippet of Peath. Lady Lippet, my ward, Arabella.”
Arabella obediently took a step further into the room and curtsied. Then she waited, not quite certain what to do next or where she should look, tempting though it might be to stare at their visitor, provided her eyes could accommodate themselves to the riotous stripes of Lady Lippet’s clothes.
“I trust you were not disturbed by the commotion last night,” Lord Barrsettshire said.
“Commotion?” Arabella replied noncommittally.
“Neville was here. Came in the middle of thenight, as if this were a tavern! He was drunk, too.”
Arabella didn’t think the earl’s son had been drunk, but she certainly did not wish to discuss Neville’s disturbing nocturnal visit. “He did?”
“You must sleep deeply. He made enough noise to wake the dead.”
Or a soundly sleeping elderly man, she thought, glad the earl was such, or else she might have been discovered in Neville Farrington’s bedroom, clad only in her nightdress.
She should never have remained alone with him! She should have fled the moment she saw Neville Farrington’s naked back. Then he would not have been able to kiss her again and touch her. She would not have experienced the lustful desire his warm, soft lips provoked or the sinful craving engendered by his hands stroking her thinly clad body—
She flushed hotly when she realized the earl was staring at her.
“I do sleep soundly,” she said with a silent prayer for forgiveness of this little lie.
“Rest is so important for maintaining one’s beauty,” Lady Lippet announced in a voice that reminded Arabella of the barn cat when it had gotten its tail caught in the door.
Her tone also implied that this regimen of rest explained her own youthful appearance.
“She is charming, Wattles, simply charming!” the lady continued. “Pretty as can be, andwith a form—well, the young men will all go mad for her!”
Wattles?
She called Lord Barrsettshire Wattles? Now that she thought about it, Arabella realized, he did look like a turkey.
The earl must have seen her effort not to laugh, for he scowled darkly. Arabella quickly turned her attention to the floor.
As she regarded the worn and wine-stained carpet, suggestive of many bacchanals, she reflected that a nickname indicated a friendship of some intimacy and age, and she wondered what Lady Lippet thought of Neville.
“I don’t want them to go mad for her,” the earl said petulantly. “I want one of them to marry her.”
“I do not see any trouble there!” Lady Lippet cried archly. “Turn around, my dear, and let me get a good look at you.”
“Do as she says, Arabella,” the earl commanded. “Lady Lippet is here to help you get a husband.”
Arabella reluctantly did as she was told.
“Her shape is more than acceptable,” Lady Lippet declared when Arabella, blushing, had completed her circle. “But these clothes, Wattles! They are an affront! They simply will not do!”
“I thought they were a little plain,” the earl confessed.
“A little plain? She looks like a poor penitent.You were wise to send for me, Wattles, very wise! We must have some new gowns without delay, and I am just the woman to help you buy them.”
Arabella’s heart beat a little faster. Oh, to have a new dress! And one in the latest fashion!
“Nothing too expensive,” Lord Barrsettshire replied warily.
“You do not put a lovely jewel in a setting of tin.”
“No, no, I suppose not.”
“Therefore, she must have some fine new gowns. Do not worry. I shall ask my dressmaker to do what she can as cheaply as she can.
Her
dressmaker?
She also wondered what the wigmaker had used to achieve that particularly flat shade of black that had surely never naturally occurred on a human head.
The earl tore his gaze away from this aged vision to address Arabella. “Come, Arabella, and meet a dear friend of mine, Lady Lippet of Peath. Lady Lippet, my ward, Arabella.”
Arabella obediently took a step further into the room and curtsied. Then she waited, not quite certain what to do next or where she should look, tempting though it might be to stare at their visitor, provided her eyes could accommodate themselves to the riotous stripes of Lady Lippet’s clothes.
“I trust you were not disturbed by the commotion last night,” Lord Barrsettshire said.
“Commotion?” Arabella replied noncommittally.
“Neville was here. Came in the middle of thenight, as if this were a tavern! He was drunk, too.”
Arabella didn’t think the earl’s son had been drunk, but she certainly did not wish to discuss Neville’s disturbing nocturnal visit. “He did?”
“You must sleep deeply. He made enough noise to wake the dead.”
Or a soundly sleeping elderly man, she thought, glad the earl was such, or else she might have been discovered in Neville Farrington’s bedroom, clad only in her nightdress.
She should never have remained alone with him! She should have fled the moment she saw Neville Farrington’s naked back. Then he would not have been able to kiss her again and touch her. She would not have experienced the lustful desire his warm, soft lips provoked or the sinful craving engendered by his hands stroking her thinly clad body—
She flushed hotly when she realized the earl was staring at her.
“I do sleep soundly,” she said with a silent prayer for forgiveness of this little lie.
“Rest is so important for maintaining one’s beauty,” Lady Lippet announced in a voice that reminded Arabella of the barn cat when it had gotten its tail caught in the door.
Her tone also implied that this regimen of rest explained her own youthful appearance.
“She is charming, Wattles, simply charming!” the lady continued. “Pretty as can be, andwith a form—well, the young men will all go mad for her!”
Wattles?
She called Lord Barrsettshire Wattles? Now that she thought about it, Arabella realized, he did look like a turkey.
The earl must have seen her effort not to laugh, for he scowled darkly. Arabella quickly turned her attention to the floor.
As she regarded the worn and wine-stained carpet, suggestive of many bacchanals, she reflected that a nickname indicated a friendship of some intimacy and age, and she wondered what Lady Lippet thought of Neville.
“I don’t want them to go mad for her,” the earl said petulantly. “I want one of them to marry her.”
“I do not see any trouble there!” Lady Lippet cried archly. “Turn around, my dear, and let me get a good look at you.”
“Do as she says, Arabella,” the earl commanded. “Lady Lippet is here to help you get a husband.”
Arabella reluctantly did as she was told.
“Her shape is more than acceptable,” Lady Lippet declared when Arabella, blushing, had completed her circle. “But these clothes, Wattles! They are an affront! They simply will not do!”
“I thought they were a little plain,” the earl confessed.
“A little plain? She looks like a poor penitent.You were wise to send for me, Wattles, very wise! We must have some new gowns without delay, and I am just the woman to help you buy them.”
Arabella’s heart beat a little faster. Oh, to have a new dress! And one in the latest fashion!
“Nothing too expensive,” Lord Barrsettshire replied warily.
“You do not put a lovely jewel in a setting of tin.”
“No, no, I suppose not.”
“Therefore, she must have some fine new gowns. Do not worry. I shall ask my dressmaker to do what she can as cheaply as she can.
Her
dressmaker?
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