Page 64 of Scandalous

“Gad, I hope not.” Ramsay gave Sarah a sly wink.

“I daresay you wouldn’t, Ramsay. Fashion is for the young, after all.”

The baron laughed, delighted by the insult.

Martín turned his attention to Sarah. “This is a new gown, no?”

“Yes, Lady Ramsay had it made up for me out of one of hers.”

Martín circled her in a way that disconcerted her.

“What are your plans tomorrow, Martín?” Ramsay’s question diverted Martín’s attention away from her, much to Sarah’s relief.

“A lot of that depends on Captain Graaf,” Martín drawled. He took the glass of wine Ramsay handed him. “What is our plan, Captain Graaf?”

Mies, who’d been peering out the library window onto the street below, turned at the sound of his name. “Tomorrow I will see Lord Bathurst.”

Ramsay addressed himself to Sarah. “As for you, my dear, I believe you will not find it difficult to locate your uncles. They are Septimus and Barnabus Fisher.”

Sarah stared.

“No, I am not a wizard. I sent a letter to my man of business the day you arrived at Lessing Hall. There was a message waiting for me here. Your uncles are very well-established bankers.”

Sarah blinked, her mind spinning. “I’d thought they were merely wool brokers.”

“They have—I believe the term is—diversified.”

Sarah was still marveling at this shocking information when Lady Ramsay rushed into the library, and they all repaired to the dining room.

* * *

After breakfast the following morning, Sarah wrote her uncles and told them about the death of her father, her arrival in England, and her current residence with Lord and Lady Ramsay. She ended the short missive by expressing an interest in meeting such members of her family as were in town.

When she’d given the letter to Lord Ramsay to frank, she fetched her cloak and bonnet and went to meet Lady Ramsay, who’d invited her to go shopping.

“I must visit Hatchards. I have a long list of books I wish to order.” She held up a piece of paper filled with writing as they took their seats in the stylish town carriage. “I am also in need of new clothing, as it seems I will be increasing soon.”

“Oh, congratulations, Daphne!”

Her friend’s ivory skin tinted. “Thank you. Ramsay and I are quite pleased. I could have worn the same garments I did four years ago, but apparently my husband instructed Rowena to throw them all out.” She glared at her maid, who sat across from them. The older woman resolutely ignored Daphne, clutching her own long list of requirements.

“Rowena has my dimensions and will take care of my purchases, but we must get something for you, Sarah. You will need much more than what I have given you.” Daphne held up a staying hand when Sarah opened her mouth. “No, I will not dispute the matter. I will become vexed if you insist on arguing about money. There is nothing I find more tedious. Well, except shopping for clothing.” Her blue eyes, usually so vague and introspective, settled on Sarah and sharpened. “I shall buy you the clothing that is necessary for your first few weeks. If you argue with me, I shall buy you more.”

Sarah laughed. “I will be delighted to accept your kind offer.”

Daphne moved to another topic. “Ramsay tells me your uncles are quite important bankers. Indeed, Septimus was recently made Baron Danestoke. I understand they were involved in the sale of Napoleon’s American holdings some years ago. I daresay they have many interesting stories. I shall give a dinner and invite them.” She made a tsking sound. “I’m afraid we shall soon be flooded with invitations, many of them tedious, but necessary to properly launch you.”

“Launch me—?” Sarah began, aghast.

Daphne ignored the interruption. “No doubt we shall be invited to whatever Mia Exley—that is Lady Exley—has organized. The Exleys mix with the most interesting people. I think you will enjoy their friends more than the stuffy people we shall be forced to invite. Ramsay’s aunt, Lady Thornehill, is a terrifying woman and very much an ape leader. It is because of her that Hugh and I have not been entirely cast off by society.” She pursed her lips. “I’ve been told I should be grateful for that.”

Lady Ramsay’s town carriage dropped them at the famous bookseller and took Rowena on to Daphne’s dressmaker, where she would begin the dreaded shopping. Rowena reminded her mistress sharply that the carriage would call back for them in an hour.

It was a good thing the carriage came for them, otherwise Sarah believed they would have spent the entire day—and perhaps evening—in the bookseller’s. As it was, they left with several packages and the promise of more to be delivered.

Daphne held an enormous volume in her lap as the carriage rolled slowly toward the dressmaker. It appeared to be written in German. “I cannot abide translations. One is so much at the mercy of the intellect of the translator. Even if the translators are adequate to the task, they frequently cannot keep their own opinions from coloring the translation. It is quite vexing,” she murmured, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

Sarah smiled at her distracted hostess and took advantage of the lull in conversation to enjoy the view out the window. She did not believe she would ever take for granted the din and activity of London.