Page 11 of The Lyon Whisperer
“See you in two hours’ time, Daniel?”
“Aye, milady,” he replied with a bright smile and a shake of his head. “You should have let me help you, ma’am. Sally would have my hide if I brung you home with a turned ankle.”
“Brought,” she corrected, adding with afaux-conspiratorial whisper, “It’ll be our secret.”
She grasped her skirts in gloved fists and marched up the broad stone steps.
The heavy front door opened before she could take the brass knocker.
“Good afternoon, Lady Amelia. I understand we’ve a crisis on our hands,” said a grave-faced Mrs. Humphry, Lady Harriet and Margaret’s housekeeper.
“Indeed we do, Mrs. Humphrey,” Amelia replied, equally grave, and crossed the threshold.
She followed the housekeeper into the parlor where she found most of her expected friends, club members all, already convened.
Lady Georgina, more familiarly known asGeorgie, curled atop the window seat, her trusty journal in her lap, scrawling away. Likely she worked on another of her romantic novels.
Miss Charlotte, a relative newcomer to their group and the niece of a nearby neighbor, perched on the sofa holding a steaming cup of tea and eyeing a plate of biscuits on a tray beside her.
Lady Harriet, a regal-looking woman, sat at her large, leather-topped desk perusing the newspaper.
The petite Margaret hovered behind her, scanning articles over her shoulder, as usual—something Lady Harriet, the matriarch of their club, generally detested.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” Amelia said warmly.
Everyone glanced up with a ready smile of welcome.
“Excellent,” Lady Harriet said. She folded her newspaper, slanting Margaret a peeved look. “Only Mrs. Floyd’s yet to arrive.”
As if conjured by her name, Mrs. Floyd—Nancy—burst into the room on a wave of vitality. She had not stopped to strip off her bonnet in the foyer and now untied it with a flourish. “I’m so glad Mr. Floyd and I returned from Oakley Manor last night, instead of waiting several more days as we originally intended. What’s this about an emergency?”
“Let us get settled before we dive in to all that.”
Murmured greetings ensued as everyone gathered in the large sitting area, each taking her customary place.
“Now then,” Lady Harriet began.
All chatter ceased.
“We’re here today to discuss a very important matter concerning our own dear Amelia.” She sent Amelia an encouraging smile. “I turn the floor over to her. Go on, dear.”
Amelia met each of the ladies’ eyes in turn. “Papa informed me last evening—” She broke off, swallowing over a dry throat. “I’m to be married.”
“Married?” Georgina aped, her eyes huge behind her gold-wire spectacles.
“Informed you? What do you mean, ‘informed you’? You never mentioned a suitor,” Charlotte said with evident concern.
“Is this a bad thing?” Nancy, the only currently married woman among them, asked, drawing all eyes to her. “Well, is it?” she asked again, albeit with less verve. “I rather like being married.”
“Yes, but you’re in love with your husband,” Charlotte pointed out.
Exactly,Amelia thought.
“Whether or not it’s a good thing depends on several factors, love being the primary one, of course,” Margaret answered, exchanging a meaningful look with Lady Harriet.
Lady Harriet nodded her head sagely. “It depends upon the man, and Amelia’s feelings toward him. For instance, upon investigation, the first two suitors Amelia’s father accepted were totally unacceptable for many reasons, not the least of which included that Amelia hadn’t any particular affection for either of them.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.
