Mrs. McVinnie's London Season by Carla Kelly Page B

called Captain Summers rather than Sir William,” he barked.
“The lowest-rated seaman can remember. Is it too much for you?”
    Wapping stared in
contusion. “No, Sir Wil—I mean, Captain Summers, and should I say,
‘Aye, aye’?”
    “ No,
you should not,” said the captain severely. He turned away from
Wapping, and in a moment the butler sidled from the hall, whatever
pretension he possessed now dangling around his ankles.
    “ Oh,
that was neatly done,” said Jeannie. “I know a strategical
diversion when I hear one. He has completely forgotten to ask you
about the fool’s errand.”
    Captain Summers was the
picture of innocence, except that his lips quivered. “Oh,
G—goodness, how I enjoy butlers,” he said. “Who would have imagined
them to be such sport?”
    “ You
are entirely unkind,” Jeannie said, belying her words with a
twinkle in her eyes. “And before you remonstrate with me, sir, let
me tell you that we did encounter an elephant in the Tower and
Edward found himself on its back.”
    “ Jeannie McVinnie, are you telling me that under your totally
composed demeanor there is a bit of a scamp?” he asked.
    “ I
protest! Through no fault of ours—”
    The captain held up his
hand. “And do you know that when you protest, there is such fire in
your eyes?” His own eyes were kind. “But I will not ask any more
questions, although G—gracious me, I am sure I should.”
    “ It
was, for the most part, an improving afternoon,” she assured him as
they went up the stairs together. “We contemplated executioner’s
axes, jewelry too gaudy by half, and heard any number of fanciful
stories about Englishmen that I think cannot be true.”
    “ Madam, are there no Englishmen that measure up to your
expectations?”
    She thought about the
dandies in the menagerie and shook her head. “So far, Captain
Summers, I have been sadly disappointed.”
    He bowed and left her
at the door to her room.
    Jeannie went in her
room and admitted to a moment of disappointment that Captain
Summers had not risen to the bait at her last comment. She knew
nothing of him, but after only one day in the house of Wendover
Square, she knew that he possessed a ready wit. Could it be, she
thought as she removed her cloak, could it be that I have been
missing a quick tongue?
    It was only a thought,
and she resolved to consider it some other time when she did not
have to dress so quickly for dinner.
    Mary Bow came out of
the dressing room, practically jumping up and down in her
excitement.
    “ Mrs.
McVinnie! You cannot imagine what arrived only twenty minutes
ago.”
    “ Unless it was the Second Coming, you are correct,” Jeannie
said, and then she saw the dress on the bed. “Oh, my dear, are we
dreaming?”
    She had never seen a
more beautiful dress. It was a high-waisted, long-sleeved dress of
sarcenet of that peculiar blue and gray color of the sky over
Solway Firth after a squall. Jeannie touched the dress, hardly
daring to breathe. “Mary, it is so fine. Like cobwebs.”
    She took an overdue
breath and held up the dress. It hung in soft folds to the tops of
her shoes, each little pleat precise and neatly sewn in. Jeannie
smoothed the material over her breast. “You don’t think it will be
too low?” she asked.
    Mary shook her head.
“For some as don’t have anything to hold it up, Mrs. McV, it might
be. But you’ll do fine.”
    “ Oh,
and I even have a pearl necklace to wear with it. Oh, Mary, this
dress is worth more than my entire wardrobe. Where on earth did it
come from?”
    Mary darted into the
dressing room. “As to that, I cannot say, but see here, there is a
note.” She held it out to Jeannie. “I never was learned to
read.”
    “ Then
I shall read it out loud,” Jeannie said with a smile, “and the two
of us can puzzle over it.”
    “ ‘ My dear Jeannie McVinnie,’ ” she read, “ ‘we dare
not give Larinda the satisfaction of telling her friends we are
perfect dowds. This dress ought to