Page 73 of Marry in Scarlet
She gritted her teeth. That. Was. It. She’d had enough.
“Now, George,” Aunt Dottie said warningly.
She gave her aunt a brittle glittering smile. “It’s all right, Aunt Dottie—just realized I forgot something. In Miss Chance’s. Back in a minute.”
She dived back into the House of Chance. Its proprietor looked up in surprise. “What is it, Lady George? Forgot something?”
“Changed my mind.” She grabbed Miss Chance’s hand and towed her into the back room. She glanced around and pointed. “I want my dress in that fabric.”
Miss Chance frowned. “For your weddin’ dress, you mean?”
“Yes. That.”
Miss Chance gave her a searching look. “You sure now? Time is tight and if you change your mind...”
“I won’t change my mind.” She nodded at Miss Chance and hurried back to the carriage.
“What did you forget?” Aunt Dottie asked as the carriage moved off.
“Nothing much. A small detail I wanted included.”
“What detail?”
George shook her head. “It’s a surprise.”
***
A few days later, George came downstairs after her regular morning visit to Emm and the baby. Mother and baby had both drifted off to sleep, and she was considering how to pass the rest of the morning. She was sick of shopping—she failed to see why she needed so many more things just because she was getting married. Besides, shopping wasn’t as much fun without Lily and Rose to encourage and advise her. Aunt Dottie thought everything was lovely and Aunt Agatha thought nothing George liked would do for a duchess.
Lily and Rose would be coming to London soon, returning for her wedding—and, of course, to meet baby Bertie. George couldn’t wait. Maybe she’d write to them. She was heading for the library, when the sound of voices coming from the front entry hall distracted her. It was too early for anyone to be paying morning calls—and in any case it was too soon after Emm’s confinement for her to be receiving callers.
The voices increased in volume. One was male, the voice low and indistinguishable, the other sounded very much like Aunt Dottie—an increasingly agitated Aunt Dottie. George hurried to investigate.
“Give them to me. I must leave at once!” Aunt Dottie was protesting. “Every minute counts.” She was dancing up and down with impatience.
The butler, Burton, was holding a small portmanteau and a bandbox back behind him, out of the old lady’s reach. What on earth was going on? Bits of garments poked messily out beneath the lids. No servant would have packed like that; Aunt Dottie must have done it herself, which was unheard of.
“Surely you should consult Lord Ashendon bef— Oh, there you are, Lady Georgiana,” said Burton in relief. “I was just explaining to Lady Dorothea—”
“He won’t give me my things, George,” Aunt Dottie said distressfully. “And I must leave.” She was almost in tears. George had never seen her so upset.
“Aunt Dottie, what’s wrong?”
“I am needed at home. I need to leave right this minute.” She turned back to the butler. “Did the boy at least order the yellow bounder as I told him to?”
“Yes, m’lady, but—” He gave George an agonized look, a clear plea for assistance.
“Aunt Dottie, what on earth is the matter?”
“I told you—I need to go home, right this minute. Or as soon as the wretched post chaise gets here.”
“But why are you leaving, Aunt Dottie? Has someone upset you?”
“A letter came for her this morning, from Bath,” Burton explained. “Whatever it said has upset her. She sent the new footman to order a post chaise, but he didn’t clear it with me, and I didn’t realize—”
“The silly man wants me to wait until Cal gets back. But I don’t need Cal’s permission to do anything, and I haven’t gottime,” Aunt Dottie wailed. “I have to go to Bathnow!”
Obviously George wasn’t going to get any sense out of Aunt Dottie while she was in this state. “Let’s have a cup of tea and some cake, and you can tell me all about it,” George suggested in a soothing voice.
