Page 2 of Lady Fiona's Tall, Dark Folly
So, he was going deaf, too. Not good. She must talk to Mama about retiring the man. Not that her mother could offer any rational advice. Even if the lady was lucid when they discussed this matter or any others, Mama did not do well with change. "No, of course you don't."
"Anything else, milady?"
She stepped toward him and articulated slowly for clarity. "Please tell my mother I'm going out."
"Shall I say where?"
"You may. I'll call upon Lady Mary Finch."
* * *
No. 21, Queen Square
Bath, England
"Good morning, Fifi!"Lady Mary Finch was not only awake at this ungodly hour of the morning, but from her attire it was clear she'd been outside, tending to her spring garden. Her pale blonde hair was a riot of curls escaping from faded, fraying purple ribbons. She still wore her apron, soiled as it was, and she was in her stocking feet, a sign she'd left her boots at the kitchen door. But all her disarray was normal and forgiven because Mary was unique. Her loyal friend. And this morning, Fifi didn't need a formal greeting from a paragon of society. She'd flown here to find solace in the moral virtue of her oldest and truest friend.
Mary rushed across her drawing room without her cane. Vanity prohibited Mary from its use, no matter her pain. Mary never spoke of it and Fifi would never ask.
Mary grinned and hugged her. "I'm delighted to see you. How are you? I knew you'd come."
"Of course you did. I'm terrible! Angry!" Fifi pushed up her spectacles. In her fury, the darn things slipped down her nose. "Hideously angry. And you? Aren't you shocked?"
Mary cocked a hand on her hip. "At anything Esme Harvey does? Ha! No. And neither should you be. Come sit down."
"Sit down! Sit down!" Mary's mad parrot Caesar called from his cage across the room.
Mary frowned at him.
Unbowed, he hopped from one foot to the other. "Good boy. Good boy!"
"I can't. I simply can't." Fifi fished in her reticule for the offending little ball of paper and shoved it into Mary's hands. "Look at this."
"I've seen theChronicle."
"No. This is a letter that arrived this morning. From my Aunt Courtland. A personal invitation to the wedding!"
Mary beamed at her because Mary always liked weddings. She liked them so much, Fifi wondered why she hadn't yet had one of her own. But then she'd never found one she preferred. Sad, that. Perhaps Mary was too rational to fall in love. "To tell the truth, I assumed all of us who'd been invited to the May Day frolic and your Aunt Courtland's ball would go to the church."
"They planned it this way." Fifi was not placated. "Esme knew we'd be there."
"It's as good a plan as any."
Fifi arched a brow. "Especially when you've acquired a special license and forgo the reading of the banns!"
At that risqué implication of Esme's reason for a speedy wedding, Mary gave her a speaking look. "That's unworthy of you."
"I agree." Fifi was ashamed of herself. She whirled toward the window and stared at the passersby, shaking her head. "Forgive me."
"I love you," crowed the large green bird who took any opportunity to proclaim his passion for Fifi. "I love you."
Fifi placed a hand over her heart. One creature valued her. She chuckled over that. "I come to marry Caesar."
"Not to praise him." Mary scowled at the unrepentant being and drew a hand across her throat. "I know. Forget him."
"I love you!" He could be a nuisance, but Fifi adored him. "Tough bird."
"Caesar, stop that. It's irritating." Mary focused on Fifi. "But I will give you that Esme wants an audience."
