My Lady Mischief by Kathy Carmichael Page A

Let me take a look at you both." The older woman pulled out a quizzing glass and eyed Thea carefully. The magnified view of Prunella's fluttering eye made her giggle.
    "And, Thea, just look at you! My, you have grown into a beauty. You are absolutely the image of your sweet mother, God rest her soul. She would be so proud of you now."
    Turning to Emma, Lady Prunella continued, "And you, Miss Rawlings...no, that is too formal, we shall be the best of friends, so might I call you Emma?"
    "Certainly, Lady Prunella."
    "No, dear. In return you, too, must call me Aunt. You have grown quite lovely, child. Such sweetness."
    Aunt Prunella went on with a seemingly endless stream of chatter, punctuating every point she made by gesturing with her fan. Thea stole a look at her friend, amazed by her aunt's animation. This was not her normal manner. What had happened to the lethargic Lady Prunella?
    After feeding them a refreshing tea, Aunt Prunella suggested they proceed to their suite of rooms to get some rest. "For you must know, I am having one of my educational salons tonight to discuss the scientific principles of electricity. If you feel quite up to it you may certainly attend. If not, you may take dinner in your suite and we will meet over breakfast tomorrow to discuss how we will go on during your visit."
    Heads spinning with weariness, they declined the invitation to attend the salon. Thea murmured that a good sleep was called for. They bid Aunt Prunella goodnight and with a footman's assistance retreated to their suite of rooms.
    It contained a cozy sitting room surrounded on each side by a bedroom and dressing room. Fatigue overcame Thea, who sat upon a Sheraton armchair while Emma said, "I'll take the pink bedroom, Thea. Youtake the blue." Thea agreed happily since blue was her favorite color.
    Both rooms were fashionably and generously furnished, each a mirror image of the other except for the color scheme.
    Following a soft tap at the door, a young maid entered. With a deep and awkward curtsey, she introduced herself, "I am Jones, m'ladies. The housekeeper, Mrs. Roberts, suggested I act as ladies' maid to you both until your own abigail arrives."
    "Thank you, Jones. You may find the job a bit onerous since my abigail is laid up with the measles. If you feel game to the task, you may first help Miss Rawlings and then attend me when you are finished." Thea smiled with friendship at the timid maid.
    Jones was heartened by her new lady's condescension. She had heard that these noblemen's daughters were, by and large, terribly haughty. How lovely that it proved to be untrue.
    *
    In the breakfast parlor the next morning, Aunt Prunella's voice rang out melodically, "Good morning, my darlings." It was obvious she felt quite sprightly. She allowed Thea and Emma to fill their breakfast plates from the buffet before she continued. "Now, let us get down to business at once."
    Thea and Emma each took a seat beside her at the ornate table adorned with large china figurines of a shepherd and shepherdess.
    Lady Prunella was an attractive, young-looking woman whose appearance belied her forty-eight years. She was dressed in a light blue morning gown of Belgian lace. Her long sleeves were tightly fitted to her arms until just beneath the elbows, where they flared out enormously. The blue flared sleeves were finished with white embroidered eyelet and the underside was filled with layer upon layer of white lace. Each time she moved her arms, the sleeves would billow dramatically.
    Thea glanced down at her own countryfied attire and realized that it wasn't at all the thing, in spite of Miss Mimms' attempts to see her properly outfitted.
    "Are you here to get some town bronze or to nab husbands?" Aunt Prunella asked bluntly. Thea gazed at her in astonishment.
    "You must know that they are not the same things at all." She pointed to Thea and her sleeve swung open like a fan. "Now, answer my question."
    Thea recovered her wits. "Emma is betrothed,