Amy Lake by Lady Reggieand the Viscount Page B

girl twice!”
    “Perhaps twice is enough.”
    The viscountess knew Lord Davies, too.  She softened her approach at once.
    “Well, as you wish, of course . . .   But you must admit the girl is quite pretty, in an unusual sort of way—”
    Lady Regina was pretty in all sorts of ways, but the viscount did not bother to quibble.
    “—and her family could not be a better connection for your sisters.  Carys—”
    “We’ve had this discussion before.  Carys has no need to marry for anything other than true affection.  She can wait for the right gentleman and she will be fine.”
    “Oh,” said his mother, nodding, “I suppose she will, fading away as the spinster aunt, seeing you and Isolde married and happy, with babies to the right and left.  I imagine she will be perfectly fine with that.”
    Lord Davies frowned, considering the point.  He had been so satisfied with the knowledge that he could always care for his mother and sisters that he had never wondered if Carys might want a family of her own.   
    “But I’m sure you know what’s best,” said the viscountess, a parting shot.  She swept from the room.
     

Chapter 12:  The Ivory Sarcenet
     
    I received the news that Viscount Cardingham and his family would be paying another visit to Roselay with entirely mixed feelings.  I was convinced that he was attracted to me and, impossibly, equally convinced that ’twas all a scheme.  The countess had no such quibbles, and on the day itself the house was in a lively state, with my mother once again up well before noon.
    “The best tea service, Mrs Peaseley.”
    I hid in my bedroom and drove myself mad.  I wanted to see him again.  I never wanted to see him again.  I wanted to give him a piece of my mind.
    Gods.
    But one must be realistic.  If I was going to see him, ’twas essential that I be well-dressed for the occasion.  Fortunately, Cassandra was at home that morning, and I was able, with some quick thinking, to convince the countess that a brief visit to the Barre home on Audley Square—they are fortunate in their address, being quite near both parks—was required.
    “I cannot bear to have Lord Davies see me in some old gown!” I cried, coloring my voice with a tinge of the whine.  I’ve had an excellent teacher in Freddie.
    “But Regina my dear, the lovely new sarcenet—”
    The lovely new sarcenet was pink.
    “I hate it!” I said, putting on my best attempt at a pout and stamping one foot.  “I won’t go downstairs!  I won’t!”
    You would think my own mother knew me better than to believe this faradiddle.  But, no.  She was truly alarmed.
    “I must go to Cassie’s!  I must !”
    “Very well, dear, if you feel it best—”
    I nearly ran. 
    * * * *
     
    It only took a few minutes of searching through Cassandra’s wardrobes to find exactly what I was looking for.
    “Ah,” said Cassie, in satisfaction.  “I’d forgotten about that one.  I don’t believe I’ve ever worn it.”
    The gown in question was, ironically, in sarcenet, but what a difference a few details can make!  A soft ivory in color, with tiny rosebuds embroidered in the skirt, and a bodice that—for once—fit me perfectly and without a hint of ruche.
    “Oh, that’s why,” said Miss Barre.  “I remember now—’twas rather tight.”
    Through the front she meant; I nodded, grateful for the seamstress’s mistake. 
    “It is yours,” Cassie added.
    I smiled my thanks.  “Why does my mother never suggest a dress like this?” I said, fingering the smooth fabric.
    “Posh on your mother.  You’re capable of communicating with a modiste.  Why not shop for clothing on your own?”
    “I could, I suppose.  I doubt my father would object.  But she buys so many gowns herself, and with Freddie’s expenses—”
    “Posh on Freddie’s expenses.”
    “Faulkes says that we must reduce our outlays even more than before.”
    “Why is italways you that must economize?”
    “Because no-one else