He led her into the dining room. Beatrice had told her that at any other ball, the dining room would be a lively place filled with people and food. Almack’s would be rather more sedate, as nobody was in a hurry to secure its offerings or thrilled when they got them.
That did seem to be the case, as she could see several people looking morosely at their dry cake or stale bread and sour glasses of lemonade.
Perhaps nobody had told them to eat ahead of time, the poor creatures. Viola had eaten a full dinner earlier, and then a plate of biscuits just before leaving the house.
“Ah,” Lord Baderston said, “I know just where we should go.”
He led Viola to an older lady sitting near the far end of the room.
“Lady Hightower,” he said, bowing. “May I introduce Lady Viola Bennington?”
“Another Bennington girl on the scene, eh?” Lady Hightower said. “Well, I am delighted. Your sister married my very good friend, Conbatten.”
Viola curtsied. Lord Baderston pulled out a chair for her to sit next to Lady Hightower, while he took her other side and motioned for a footman.
“Indeed, my lady,” Viola said, “we are delighted with the duke. Of course, we were all very grateful to you when you took Rosalind into your carriage after she was accosted by a pickpocket in the park last year.”
Lady Hightower laughed and seemed to find amusement in it. “If I recall, it was your sister’s darkest hour. At least, that is how she described it to me.”
Viola felt herself going pink. It was clear enough that Lady Hightower did not consider having a handkerchief taken in the park to be a particularly dark darkest hour. At least she did not know the real circumstances ofthatencounter.
To change the subject, she said, “I recall Rosalind praising your musical evening last season.”
At the mention of her musical evening, Lady Hightower almost had a look of alarm.
“Naturally,” the lady said, “I will extend you an invitation this year. But, I wonder, Lady Viola, do you happen to play in a…similar style to the duchess?”
“Oh, no,” Viola said, “nobody can play as Rosalind does.”
“No, I would not think so. It was most surprising.”
Viola nodded. “We all think so. One never does know where it’s going—one minute a reel, the next a funeral march, the next a fugue. I am afraid I am far more pedestrian and can only read the sheet in front of me and play that.”
Lady Hightower let out a breath, as if she’d been holding it. “That will do very well, I think.”
A footman placed a slice of dry cake and a glass of lemonade in front of Viola. Lady Hightower leaned toward her and said quietly, “It is no accident that Baderston has steered you this direction, Lady Viola.”
“It is not?”
To her other side, Lord Baderston laughed and said, “I only prayed that you had brought your interesting reticule with you, Lady Hightower.”
Lady Hightower moved the tablecloth with her finger to reveal the largest reticule Viola had ever seen. It was somewhere between the size of a usual reticule and something a maid might use to carry things back from the grocers. It sat on the floor by her chair.
She picked it up and opened it to reveal a large corked bottle filled with a thick, white liquid of some sort.
“Sugar syrup,” Lady Hightower said softly. “It can be used to good effect on absolutely anything that arrives at table in this place.”
She uncorked the bottle and poured some of the mixture over Viola’s cake and then added it to her lemonade for good measure.
“You see, Lady Viola,” Lady Hightower said, “I arrive, I trounce Lady Agatha at piquet, she leaves in a pique over piquet, I pour sugar syrup on my dreadful cake, and I consider it an evening well spent. I believe the patronesses suspect me of adulterating their grim menu, but nobody dares confront the oldest bat in the rafters.”
Viola found Lady Hightower to be an absolute delight. “Of course, I could not dare it myself,” she said, “but I prodigiously admire it.”
“You? Not dare it? Now, that does not sound like a Bennington lady to me.”
As much as Viola was enjoying the conversation, Lady Hightower’s attention was speedily sought on her other side by a gentleman friend hopeful of her sugar remedy.
Viola turned back to Lord Baderston, who was looking very amused.
