When scarlet suffused Eliza’s cheeks, Diana said hastily, “I’m sure we must sound terribly rude, criticizing an event we were charitably invited to attend—”
“Not a bit. I agree with everything you said. And more.” Lady Sinclair shut the door to the ballroom. “Indeed, I would be most grateful if you would bear with me a moment and answer my questions. You see, I’m expected to throw a ball myself soon, and I’m American, so I’ve never done anything of the sort in London. I could use advice. For example, Lady Diana, what attire would you choose for me as hostess?”
Opting for caution with the woman, Diana said, “It appears you already have good taste in clothing, madam, because your muslin gown and plaid shawl are both fashionable and flattering to your figure.”
“That’s only because my lady’s maid picked most of my attire for tonight. But last week she chose an Elizabethan ruff for me to wear with one of my day gowns. Even I know I don’t have the neck for such a thing.”
Diana relaxed. “No one has the neck for an Elizabethan ruff, not even Elizabeth the First herself.” She glanced at Verity’s willowy figure and long neck. “Well, perhaps Verity. But no one else I’ve ever seen.”
“In any case,” the countess said, “I can’t trust my own judgment or that of my lady’s maid. She’s very new and very Scottish, and I’m still learning my way around the Scots. And the English, for that matter.”
“If you’re looking for someone to advise you on fashion,” Diana said, “I would certainly be happy to do so. It’s not as if I have a busy social calendar these days.” And Mrs. Ludgate could use the patronage of a woman of standing like Lady Sinclair.
“I should enjoy that,” the countess said. “But before we make our plans, I wish to ask your sister—Lady Verity, if you had control of the kitchen, what would you serve?”
Verity, having never lacked for self-confidence, answered boldly. “Mr. and Mrs. Crowder are wealthy enough to afford a variety of dishes, so my choices would be, among others, an assortment of sliced cold meats including roast venison and turkey, some lobster patties and minced lobster, Westphalia cakes, pickles of many sorts—”
“No roasted onions and anchovy toast, as Mrs. Crowder’s cook is serving?” the countess asked.
“Certainly not.” Verity leaned close to Lady Sinclair. “Who wants onions or anchovies on their breath while courting? Even if a lady knows to avoid them at a ball supper, gentlemen don’t always think in those terms. They stuff whatever suits them into their mouths without a care for how it makes them smell.”
The countess seemed to be fighting a smile. “True. What are Westphalia cakes?”
“Different recipes suggest different flavorings, but basically they’re made from mashed potatoes mixed with eggs, butter, and milk, then formed into little cakes and fried. Sometimes they have bits of bacon or cheese in them.”
“That sounds delicious,” Lady Sinclair said. “And for dessert? We must have desserts—Lord Sinclair has quite a sweet tooth. What would you suggest?”
“You may not realize this,” Verity said, “but for a fee, Gunter’s will cater events such as yours, supplying ices, ice creams, and pastries. They’re a very popular addition.”
“And very costly, I’m sure,” the countess said in an arch tone.
“I beg your pardon,” Verity said with concern. “Is that an issue? I can suggest other sweets if you prefer.”
Lady Sinclair laughed. “According to my new husband, it’s not an issue in the least. But you know men. They’d prefer to spend less if they can manage it.”
Or get the funds from someone else.
The part of the divorce trial going on right now was Papa’s attempt to force Major-General Ord to pay him a substantial amount of money for alienation of affection. It was Papa’s only way to get his revenge upon the man. But neither of the adulterous parties seemed to care what he did to retaliate. The major-general had a fortune, so Papa’s demands weren’t going to serve quite as well for revenge as he’d probably hoped.
“Well,” the countess said, seeming to notice Diana’s lapse into silence, “I do like a Gunter’s ice, especially in summer. Very refreshing.”
“Exactly.” Verity smiled. “I could meet with the proprietors on your behalf, Lady Sinclair, if you think you might wish to use them for your future event.”
“How odd that you should mention that. You see, while having the three of you ladies advise me would be helpful, I would much rather hire you to plan the whole thing.” She gave them a sheepish smile. “Particularly as it’s supposed to occur in two weeks.”
Eliza gasped, Verity grinned, and Diana gaped at the countess.
Diana was first to speak. “You do know that . . . well . . . it would be rather frowned upon for us to take payment for . . . helping you.”
Lady Sinclair blinked at them. “Oh! Of course. I forgot that such things aren’t accepted in English society. But the truth is, I have no one to turn to. My servants are either new or only used to running a bachelor household, and my husband has no female relatives. Neither do I—not here, anyway.”
Diana hastened to set her at ease. “I’m not saying we aren’t perfectly thrilled to advise you, but we can’t take payment for it. You understand.”
“Speak for yourself.” Verity handed Diana’s fan back to her as if she were going to set out right that minute to help Lady Sinclair. “I am happy to take payment of any kind, as long as I’m given free rein in the kitchen for the ball supper.”
“Verity!” Diana exclaimed. “Papa would . . . would never speak to us again.”
“And that would be a loss?” Verity shrugged. “He won’t notice anyway.” Her voice hardened. “He’s too busy trying to nail Major-General Ord to the wall.”