She smiled. “It must be serious. Come, sit down and tell me all about it.”
Chapter 26
Marietta sat down and put her feet up. “You have no idea how much my back is aching,” she said cheerily.
“Poor Marietta,” Aphrodite murmured. “You should complain to Max, however, not us. It is he who caused this problem.”
Marietta wagged a finger at her. “You are very wicked, Mother. I will do no such thing. He might stop.”
“Marietta, show some decorum,” Francesca said, more for Amy’s benefit than because she really expected her sister to obey. But Amy was busy with the morning mail.
Aphrodite had been invited to visit now she wasso much better. But Jemmy Dobson still insisted she wasn’t well enough to make an appearance in the salon at the club, or to work in her office. She was to rest and regain her strength, and put on some flesh.
“He complains if I do not finish my potatoes,” she said with a grimace. ?
?I do not like potatoes!”
“Like them or not, you are looking a great deal better,” Francesca assured her, smiling.
Aphrodite smiled back. “Yes, but I told you I would not die. I am strong, petit chaton. Too strong for that horrible woman.”
Marietta wriggled her aching feet. “I always liked Maeve,” she said sadly. “I still can’t believe she could do such a thing.”
“I did not mean Maeve,” Aphrodite said somberly. “I think I could forgive her. But the other one, Mrs. Slater, no, I will never forgive her.”
“She still hasn’t said a word,” Francesca announced the latest news. “Lil says she just sits and stares at the wall. And Jed hardly ever speaks, either, and when he does, it’s to blame her for everything. Leading him astray, he says. As for Mrs. March…”
“Shhh!” Amy glanced over at the door, just in case William might suddenly arrive and overhear them. “My brother is still very upset about all of that. He was very fond of Mrs. March, or at least he was fond of her efficiency. She ran the house like clockwork, he tells me.”
“Never mind that she was a horrible woman who thought it would have been better if her mother had smothered us all.” Francesca shuddered. “I’m glad she’s in jail.”
“I’ve been interviewing new housekeepers for him, and I think I’ve found someone suitable,” Amy went on. “I’ve warned him not to glare at her, at least not until she’s grown used to his ways. His bark is worse than his bite.”
Francesca and Marietta exchanged a glance.
Amy took up another letter and opened the crisp paper. “Oh,” she said, and her face lit up. “It’s an invitation! Lady Annear requests the presence of Mr. Tremaine, Mrs. Jardine, and Miss Francesca Greentree at her granddaughter’s first ball…” She dropped the paper in her lap. “It’s only two days away! Francesca can’t possibly be ready.”
“Yes, she can,” Marietta said, her eyes closing. “Remember, Francesca has a ball gown completed. She can wear that, and have another one made up for our own ball. Plenty of time.”
Francesca was appalled. “I can’t go about ordering ball gowns to be made up like…like confetti! If we must go to Lady Annear’s ball, then I will wear the same one to both. No one will notice.”
“Or you could get Mrs. Hall to make one for you,” Marietta suggested, with a grin. “I wonder what sort of ball gown she’d make? Brown sacking, probably.”
“Please, Marietta, don’t encourage her.” Aphrodite shuddered.
“No, don’t,” Amy agreed, thoughtful. “But your other idea is a good one. Francesca can wear the rose satin gown to Lady Annear’s ball, and have the modiste make up a new gown for our ball. You’d better go to her immediately…after I reply to this invitation, of course.”
Francesca had come to peer over Amy’s shoulder. “Why would Lady Annear invite us to her ball?” she asked, puzzled. “Do you know her, Mama?”
Amy wrinkled her brow. “It’s odd, but I can’t recall ever meeting her. Perhaps she knows William. He is invited, too. Well, whatever the reason for the invitation, we can’t ignore it. She is an influential woman in London society.”
“Never mind, petit chaton,” Aphrodite murmured, when Francesca sat down beside her, “you will look very pretty, and there will be many men asking you to dance. I feel so sorry for you.”
Francesca smiled. “I must seem churlish. I don’t mean to be.”
“You miss your handsome Mr. Thorne.”
Francesca knew she could argue and deny it, but this was Aphrodite and there wasn’t much point.