her teeth. “I may
be close to being on the shelf, but I’m far from old age, Louis.”
“My hair turned white years ago,”
said Beatrix, “and I’m not anywhere near my deathbed.”
Louis raised an eyebrow and
smirked.
Her entire body shook as rage
coursed through Alicia’s veins. It was impossible to imagine playing wife to a
shameless scab like Louis ten days hence. A creature like him would never
change. She elbowed her way past him, guiding great-aunt Beatrix through the
gate. She refrained from slapping him when he pulled her hair as she walked by,
although she “accidentally” trod on his foot.
His unrepentant cackle followed
her into the house.
CHAPTER SIX
“A lady always wears a bonnet
when out-of-doors,” Louis lectured in his usual loud voice before shoveling another
bite of stew into his gaping mouth.
Alicia grit her teeth. Of all the
inappropriate places to start waxing sanctimonious, he had to choose a dinner
party. She schooled her features into a blank mask. When opportunity knocked, a
lady opened the door.
“How fortuitous you should
mention bonnets,” she answered with an incline of her head. “I read a book on
the subject just the other day. Did you know that the Scots were among the
first to use the term ‘bonnet’, and it originally applied to caps for men?”
Louis paused, blinked, and
continued chewing. After he swallowed, he began, “Your aunt–”
“Great-aunt,” Alicia interrupted
with a bland smile. “And she is your first cousin, twice removed. I read about
genealogy just this morning. Or rather, theogony, which is the genealogy of
mythical gods. I have been concentrating on the pantheon prevalent in ancient Greece. It’s quite fascinating.”
He stared at her for a moment,
nonplused, and then returned to his bowl without comment.
Alicia smiled to herself and
wondered how much more he could take. Bluestockings everywhere would despise
her for parodying them in such a bad light, but this was a chance for a spot of
fun while in conversation with Louis.
His head jolted up from his
plate. With a sly smile, he paused with his spoon inches from his mouth. “Have
you tried the blanquette de veau , Alicia?” he demanded in his piercing
voice.
Heads swiveled in their direction, including Mr.
Morrissey’s. He didn’t look up from his food, but he lowered his spoon and sat
very still. She had been aware of his gaze since the moment he was placed two
chairs down from Louis. At least he sat too far away to intervene with
inappropriate questions of his own.
“Not yet,” she answered. “Did you
know that La Reynière considers the dish to be naïve and timid? What do you
suppose that means? He published an almanac–”
“Let me guess,” Louis
interrupted. “You’ve been reading the almanac in your free time.”
Alicia widened her eyes. “Would
you like a recitation of some of his more interesting quotes? They’re not all
about food.”
* * *
Ian wondered if he could risk a
glance to his left without being as blatant as the other gawpers. He could see
Alicia, but a Miss Holmes sat between him and Louis Larouche, obstructing Ian’s
view with a teeming mass of brown ringlets.
“I certainly do not,” came the
unmistakable screech of Larouche’s shrill voice. “A dull recitation of facts is
always boring. You’ll find my home bears no library for that very reason.”
Miss Kinsey stirred her stew with
her spoon before answering. “I believe it was William Shakespeare who said ‘My
library is dukedom large enough.’”
Larouche’s loud sniff could be
heard halfway down the table.
Ian smiled to himself. Their
banter had continued in this vein for much of the evening. Miss Kinsey’s
references to esoteric facts were quite witty, often leaving Larouche
scrambling for a rejoinder.
A grudging respect threatened to
bloom. Unlike many debs who could speak of nothing save fashion and the weather,
Miss Kinsey utilized a
be close to being on the shelf, but I’m far from old age, Louis.”
“My hair turned white years ago,”
said Beatrix, “and I’m not anywhere near my deathbed.”
Louis raised an eyebrow and
smirked.
Her entire body shook as rage
coursed through Alicia’s veins. It was impossible to imagine playing wife to a
shameless scab like Louis ten days hence. A creature like him would never
change. She elbowed her way past him, guiding great-aunt Beatrix through the
gate. She refrained from slapping him when he pulled her hair as she walked by,
although she “accidentally” trod on his foot.
His unrepentant cackle followed
her into the house.
CHAPTER SIX
“A lady always wears a bonnet
when out-of-doors,” Louis lectured in his usual loud voice before shoveling another
bite of stew into his gaping mouth.
Alicia grit her teeth. Of all the
inappropriate places to start waxing sanctimonious, he had to choose a dinner
party. She schooled her features into a blank mask. When opportunity knocked, a
lady opened the door.
“How fortuitous you should
mention bonnets,” she answered with an incline of her head. “I read a book on
the subject just the other day. Did you know that the Scots were among the
first to use the term ‘bonnet’, and it originally applied to caps for men?”
Louis paused, blinked, and
continued chewing. After he swallowed, he began, “Your aunt–”
“Great-aunt,” Alicia interrupted
with a bland smile. “And she is your first cousin, twice removed. I read about
genealogy just this morning. Or rather, theogony, which is the genealogy of
mythical gods. I have been concentrating on the pantheon prevalent in ancient Greece. It’s quite fascinating.”
He stared at her for a moment,
nonplused, and then returned to his bowl without comment.
Alicia smiled to herself and
wondered how much more he could take. Bluestockings everywhere would despise
her for parodying them in such a bad light, but this was a chance for a spot of
fun while in conversation with Louis.
His head jolted up from his
plate. With a sly smile, he paused with his spoon inches from his mouth. “Have
you tried the blanquette de veau , Alicia?” he demanded in his piercing
voice.
Heads swiveled in their direction, including Mr.
Morrissey’s. He didn’t look up from his food, but he lowered his spoon and sat
very still. She had been aware of his gaze since the moment he was placed two
chairs down from Louis. At least he sat too far away to intervene with
inappropriate questions of his own.
“Not yet,” she answered. “Did you
know that La Reynière considers the dish to be naïve and timid? What do you
suppose that means? He published an almanac–”
“Let me guess,” Louis
interrupted. “You’ve been reading the almanac in your free time.”
Alicia widened her eyes. “Would
you like a recitation of some of his more interesting quotes? They’re not all
about food.”
* * *
Ian wondered if he could risk a
glance to his left without being as blatant as the other gawpers. He could see
Alicia, but a Miss Holmes sat between him and Louis Larouche, obstructing Ian’s
view with a teeming mass of brown ringlets.
“I certainly do not,” came the
unmistakable screech of Larouche’s shrill voice. “A dull recitation of facts is
always boring. You’ll find my home bears no library for that very reason.”
Miss Kinsey stirred her stew with
her spoon before answering. “I believe it was William Shakespeare who said ‘My
library is dukedom large enough.’”
Larouche’s loud sniff could be
heard halfway down the table.
Ian smiled to himself. Their
banter had continued in this vein for much of the evening. Miss Kinsey’s
references to esoteric facts were quite witty, often leaving Larouche
scrambling for a rejoinder.
A grudging respect threatened to
bloom. Unlike many debs who could speak of nothing save fashion and the weather,
Miss Kinsey utilized a
Similar Books
