Her parting words to Lady Scattergood were an order to come to the next meeting. “And if you don’t, I’ll come and roust you out myself, Olive Scattergood, don’t think I won’t! And you needn’t bother instructing your butler to tell me you’re not at home. I won’t fall for that nonsense again!” She was a redoubtable old lady, and Izzy didn’t doubt her for a minute.
“So we’ll go to the next literary society meeting?” Izzy prompted.
“We’ll see,” Lady Scattergood said. “I’m exhausted. Tell Cook I’ll take my supper on a tray tonight. Good night, gels.” She tottered upstairs, accompanied by her little pack of dogs.
Izzy turned to Clarissa. “I hadn’t expected to see quite so many society people in attendance. There were titles galore. To be honest, it was a little intimidating.”
“I know. And I certainly didn’t expect to see Miss Chance the dressmaker there, but she seemed quite at home, didn’t she?”
“I think sheisat home,” Izzy said. “I gather she lives there, in Lady Davenham’s house, with her husband and young daughter.”
“How unusual. Come, let’s talk upstairs.” Clarissa led the way to the small cozy sitting room between their bedchambers. It had become their own special place.
Izzy kicked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa. “I can’t believe how everyone was so friendly. I don’t know about you, but several people promised to send us invitations—”
“Yes, some ladies told me that, too,” Clarissa said, snuggling into the overstuffed chair that was her favorite. “We’ll have to compare.”
“Not to balls or anything because we’re not officially out—”
“And we probably won’t ever be if Lord Salcott has his way,” Clarissa said gloomily.
“No.Youcould make your come-out,” Izzy reminded her. “I’mthe problem.”
“As if I’d want to do it without you. Not that it matters now.” Clarissa gave her sister a look of triumph and bounced up and down in her seat. “We have our first ton invitation. Old Lady Gastonbury invited us to hersoirée musicaletomorrow evening.”
“That’s wonderful.” Izzy couldn’t recall which old lady Lady Gastonbury was, and had only the vaguest idea of what asoirée musicalemight involve, but it was a start. “It’s exactly the kind of thing we need—invitations to small family parties and informal evenings.”
“Yes, and quite a few ladies said they would call on us in the morning,” Clarissa added.
Izzy sat up. “Morning calls? Oh dear, should we makethem, too? I’m not quite sure what the process is. We leave cards or something, don’t we?”
Clarissa shook her head. “I’m not sure, either. But we can’t make any morning calls, not without Lady Scattergood, and she won’t be going out to make them. But I’m sure people will understand.”
It started to rain, the drops pattering softly against the windows. Treadwell arrived and lit the gas lamps.
“Do you think all those people who said they’d send us invitations will actually do it?” Izzy said when he’d left.
Clarissa shrugged. “Who knows? People often say things they don’t mean. We’ll just have to wait and see. Now, I want to read the rest of that story they were reading today. Do you think Lady Scattergood will have it in her library?”
Izzy jumped up. “I’ll go and see.”
“No, I will,” Clarissa said.
“First one to find it gets to read it,” Izzy said. Laughing, they raced each other to the library.
***
Leo settled Nanny Best in her new home, introduced her to the neighbors, made sure she had enough supplies and presented her with an advance on her pension, which in future would be paid through his estate manager. He’d told her it was being paid via Clarissa’s trust, and was a bequest from Clarissa’s mother, which was the easiest way to stop the flow of thanks.
Next he turned his attention to the state of his estate. Despite the efficiency of his estate manager, after almost a year away, he had much to catch up on. And having traveled widely and observed how things were done in other countries, Leo had returned with ideas and techniques that he was planning to implement.
He was almost entirely focused on the agriculturalaspects of the estate—new farming techniques, new crops and livestock breeding programs, and with his estate manager he visited his tenant farmers, talking about what he’d learned and finding out which farmers might be interested in implementing some of these new ideas.
But each day as he returned home, he became more and more aware of the faded, out-of-date interior of his house. Oh, his servants had kept it clean, well-scrubbed and polished, but cleaning could only go so far.
Much of the furniture was worn as well as heavy and old-fashioned; the curtains had faded and some rugs were quite threadbare. It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d gone away, but apart from general maintenance, very little of the house had been updated since he was a small boy. His mother hadn’t spent enough time there to care about the interior of the house, as long as the public rooms where she received guests, and her own suite of rooms, were up to the mark and to her taste. The rest she’d ignored, and Leo’s father, like Leo, had been oblivious.
The change Matteo had wrought on the London house made Leo very aware that this house—his true home—was also in dire need of refurbishment. But he had no idea where to start. He’d never been much interested in design; all he knew was that his house looked shabby and he didn’t like it. He would have to get Matteo onto it.
