I look well in this shade of blue?”
The maid sighed at her charge, decked out in the palest aquamarine mull with matching slippers and a parasol for the open carriage which the baron said he was bringing. “You've changed gowns four times already and his lordship is waiting downstairs. Even if you looked faded as a ghost—which you most certainly do not—there would be no time for another change. You're lovely. Go and enjoy,” she admonished, throwing up her hands.
Miranda stood smiling at the doorway. “As usual, Tilda is quite right. You're a confection. Come, we mustn't keep the baron waiting.”
“Or Lady T,” Lori said in awe. “Abbie was positively green when I told her where we were going.”
Brand was standing near the door as the women entered the small sitting room, the one favored by Marmalade. He was keeping an escape route handy in case the great orange brute shoved open the kitchen door again. Mercifully, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of a feline.
“Ladies, you are both visions,” he said with a bow. “And my rescuers from Lady Tottingham. I’ve heard she eats barons for breakfast.”
Lori giggled as Miranda replied, “If you had not put in an appearance, Lady T just might do precisely that. She is quite formidable, Major.”
“Then I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior,” Brand replied as he escorted them to the waiting carriage.
They passed the ride discussing the weather, the upcoming races at Ascot and other innocuous topics, both Brand and Miranda attempting to draw Lori into the conversation. However, since she was too nervous about her first meeting with the legendary dowager to say much, the conversation turned to politics and the current battle in Parliament to enlarge the suffrage.
“You of all people should support Mr. Gladstone. After all, he urged recognition of the Confederacy during the late war.”
“And you, a Liberal admirer of that gentleman, are staunchly abolitionist. How do you reconcile those conflicting points of view?”
“I was merely offering a reason for you to appreciate him, even if he was wrong on that one issue. Politics is an art of compromise, after all. Mr. Gladstone's position on voting reform is more moderate than that of the Conservatives. We Liberals do not wish to see unpropertied men voting on a par with those who have made this nation the richest on earth. It would lead to civil disorder.”
“And the spread of trade unionism?” he countered with a cynical smile.
She stiffened. “Yes, and look what chaos that has wrought wherever it is instituted. I pay my employees fair wages, but I can scarcely have them dictating to me how I run my foundry, shipyard or bank.”
“Heaven forbid. I do agree, however, that the Conservatives only want to broaden the franchise so they can recapture control of Commons. They haven't held power since '46. What better way to do it than by stealing Gladstone's thunder?”
“My, you are quite astute regarding English politics,” Lori finally interjected. “I have no idea who holds power today, much less that many years ago.”
“In time you'll come to understand these matters,” Miranda replied. “You need to read The Times . That's why I bring it home each evening from my office.”
Lori made a face, but Brand grinned and said, “Your mother would see women with the vote...possibly even unpropertied women. I'd wager on it.” He raised an eyebrow in mock dismay, smiling encouragingly at Lori.
“You would win,” she replied softly, glancing at Miranda.
He chuckled. “I knew it. Well, Miss Auburn, I will agree with your mother. If you're to vote, you must learn for whom to vote.”
“Oh, I do not wish to vote...ever. But Mother
The maid sighed at her charge, decked out in the palest aquamarine mull with matching slippers and a parasol for the open carriage which the baron said he was bringing. “You've changed gowns four times already and his lordship is waiting downstairs. Even if you looked faded as a ghost—which you most certainly do not—there would be no time for another change. You're lovely. Go and enjoy,” she admonished, throwing up her hands.
Miranda stood smiling at the doorway. “As usual, Tilda is quite right. You're a confection. Come, we mustn't keep the baron waiting.”
“Or Lady T,” Lori said in awe. “Abbie was positively green when I told her where we were going.”
Brand was standing near the door as the women entered the small sitting room, the one favored by Marmalade. He was keeping an escape route handy in case the great orange brute shoved open the kitchen door again. Mercifully, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of a feline.
“Ladies, you are both visions,” he said with a bow. “And my rescuers from Lady Tottingham. I’ve heard she eats barons for breakfast.”
Lori giggled as Miranda replied, “If you had not put in an appearance, Lady T just might do precisely that. She is quite formidable, Major.”
“Then I shall endeavor to be on my best behavior,” Brand replied as he escorted them to the waiting carriage.
They passed the ride discussing the weather, the upcoming races at Ascot and other innocuous topics, both Brand and Miranda attempting to draw Lori into the conversation. However, since she was too nervous about her first meeting with the legendary dowager to say much, the conversation turned to politics and the current battle in Parliament to enlarge the suffrage.
“You of all people should support Mr. Gladstone. After all, he urged recognition of the Confederacy during the late war.”
“And you, a Liberal admirer of that gentleman, are staunchly abolitionist. How do you reconcile those conflicting points of view?”
“I was merely offering a reason for you to appreciate him, even if he was wrong on that one issue. Politics is an art of compromise, after all. Mr. Gladstone's position on voting reform is more moderate than that of the Conservatives. We Liberals do not wish to see unpropertied men voting on a par with those who have made this nation the richest on earth. It would lead to civil disorder.”
“And the spread of trade unionism?” he countered with a cynical smile.
She stiffened. “Yes, and look what chaos that has wrought wherever it is instituted. I pay my employees fair wages, but I can scarcely have them dictating to me how I run my foundry, shipyard or bank.”
“Heaven forbid. I do agree, however, that the Conservatives only want to broaden the franchise so they can recapture control of Commons. They haven't held power since '46. What better way to do it than by stealing Gladstone's thunder?”
“My, you are quite astute regarding English politics,” Lori finally interjected. “I have no idea who holds power today, much less that many years ago.”
“In time you'll come to understand these matters,” Miranda replied. “You need to read The Times . That's why I bring it home each evening from my office.”
Lori made a face, but Brand grinned and said, “Your mother would see women with the vote...possibly even unpropertied women. I'd wager on it.” He raised an eyebrow in mock dismay, smiling encouragingly at Lori.
“You would win,” she replied softly, glancing at Miranda.
He chuckled. “I knew it. Well, Miss Auburn, I will agree with your mother. If you're to vote, you must learn for whom to vote.”
“Oh, I do not wish to vote...ever. But Mother
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