Dogs! What did they know? The sooner he finished his paintings, passed on to Gaston the rest of the old ones he’d collected and returned to England, the happier he’d be.
As evening grew nigh, Lady Scattergood declared she was too tired to stay up late and sent them off to dine elsewhere. Izzy and Clarissa, having anticipated this—the old lady was still sadly pulled by her recent bout of influenza—had arranged to dine at Izzy and Leo’s home. Their Neapolitan cook, Alfonso, had been working all afternoon, preparing all their favorite dishes.
But first there was a visit to the nursery, where Zoë was introduced to her niece and nephew. Little Louisa, aged two and a half, was an adorably lively toddler with her mother’s green eyes and a mop of dark curls. Seeing Clarissa, she ran toward her, shrieking, “Aunt Rissa, Aunt Rissa, up up up!” Laughing, Clarissa picked the little girl up and kissed her.
Baby Joey had just a bare fuzz of dark hair covering hislittle head. His eyes were more hazel than green, but he smiled readily, giving everyone a drooling, toothless, happy grin.
“He’s really Josiah Leonard Thorne,” Izzy said, jiggling him on her hip. “It’s Leo’s family tradition to name the firstborn son Josiah Leonard Thorne, and each generation takes it in turns which name they use. Leo’s father was called Joe, but Joey suits my baby boy better, I think.”
Zoë agreed. Little Joey seemed a serene, chubby baby, who gazed out at the world with an air of benevolence.
It was fascinating to see her sisters as mothers. Clearly they both adored the children, and it was obvious that they spent a good deal of time with them, which many young, fashionable society mothers didn’t.
But the big surprise of the day was when Leo, the children’s father, arrived home early and came straight up to the nursery. “PapaPapaPapa!” little Louisa screeched, and wriggling out of Clarissa’s arms, she hurled herself at her father.
Zoë had always been a little intimidated by Leo, Lord Salcott, who, though invariably polite, had always seemed rather cold, a bit stern and stiffly correct. But with a laugh, Leo scooped up his daughter and tossed her, screaming with delight, in the air and caught her again. Winding one arm tightly around his neck, she scruffed up his neatly arranged hair and gleefully ruined his intricately arranged neckcloth.
To Zoë’s astonishment, Leo simply chuckled. And with his daughter in his arms, he kissed his wife—in front of them all—then bent to greet his son, who drooled and grinned and waved his chubby fists at his father.
Zoë marveled at the change in him. He clearly doted on his wife and children and wasn’t afraid to show it. It was the last thing she would have expected of him. Izzy had always said Leo was a wonderful husband, and now Zoë could see it was true.
Dinner that evening was a most convivial gathering with Leo and Izzy, Race and Clarissa, Lucy and Gerald and Alice and her husband, James. Leo’s chef had cooked a magnificent meal, with English favorites like roast beef and steak and kidney pie, along with Neapolitan dishes like lamb ragù, a kind of stew served with noodles with meat that melted in your mouth, and a delicate but delicious dish of fish cooked in butter and herbs, as well as several vegetable dishes.
To follow he gave them a delicious English-style steamed lemon pudding, a big wobbly red jelly studded with berries and cream, a bowl of flummery and a special Neapolitan cake made with some Italian soft cheese and deliciously flavored with candied citrus peel and rosewater.
Matteo, Leo’s general factotum, who presented the meal with flamboyant Neapolitan flair, explained that the cake was usually only served at Christmas and Easter. “But this is special family celebration, no? So Alfonso, he make something special to celebrate you coming back to us, Miss Zoë.”
Zoë was deeply moved by the welcome she’d received and was still receiving. Why on earth had she been worried about it?
Everyone had gone to so much trouble on her behalf.
When the meal had been eaten, the ladies retired to the sitting room, leaving the men to their port and brandy.
“Leo and I are going to hold a reception to introduce you to society,” Izzy told Zoë as she poured tea and passed around cups.
“A reception?” Zoë’s heart sank. Starting so soon? She’d thought she would have several months at least before she needed to face society. At this time of year most people would be at their country estates. They’d return, like swallows, in spring when the Season would start.
“Yes, there aren’t enough people in London for a full-scale ball—we’ll hold that once the Season begins—but in the meantime we want you to make a small splash.”
“Why?” Zoë didn’t want to make any sort of splash.
“Yes,” Clarissa said eagerly. “We have a plan.”
“But first you need a dress,” Izzy said.
“A dress? But I have dozens of dresses, all never worn.”
“Yes, we saw them when you were unpacking, and I must say, Lucy, you did very well. If I don’t miss my guess, Zoë’s going to set a fashion when she steps out in her elegant French gowns. But Zoë, this is a special dress we need, so Clarissa and I will take you to Daisy Chance’s establishment and get you measured up for it.”
“Why? Are you planning a costume party?”
Izzy and Clarissa laughed. “No,” Clarissa said. “But that’s a good idea, don’t you think, Izzy? Race and I could hold one later in the Season when it gets warmer. Maybe even in the garden.”
“So if it isn’t a costume party, why would I need a new dress?”
“Wait and see. It’s a surprise,” Izzy said, her green eyes, so uncannily like Zoë’s own, dancing with what Zoë could swear was mischief.
The conversation then turned to other matters. Lucy shared stories about their time in Paris, Alice talked about her beloved children and how quickly they seemed to grow. They told Zoë and Lucy about Mrs. Price-Jones, Clarissa’s erstwhile chaperone, and who she’d married—not one of the “silver suitors,” the two gentlemen who’d been assiduously courting her when Zoë had left the country, but Sir Alfred Nicolas, a younger man who was rich and vigorous and who apparently thought the world of her. Then the talk turned more general and touched on various people they knew in society, few of whom Zoë had met.
