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“That’s true, although you are occasionally ridiculous, too,” Donella teased. “Which is why you’re so much fun to be with.”
“I’m glad someone appreciates me,” Bathsheba replied with a dramatic sigh.
“I’m sure your husband does, too, especially when you’re wearing that dressing gown,” Samantha sarcastically commented.
“Outfits like this are rather wasted on John, since they tend not to stay on for very long.”
Samantha bent to pick up her pencil. “Now you’re just bragging.”
Boland yanked her back up. “My lady, if you don’t stop wiggling about, I’ll never get this gown finished.”
“Best do what she says, old girl,” Bathsheba said. “With the gala fundraiser tomorrow night, Boland doesn’t have much time left.”
“Why can’t I just wear one of my regular ball gowns? They’re perfectly fine.”
“Actually, they’re boring and three years out of date,” her friend ruthlessly replied. “If you show up to your own fundraising gala looking like a church mouse, you’ll present a bad impression—like you’re desperate. That sort of thing tends to frighten off donors.”
Samantha shook her head. “That makes no sense.”
“Sadly, it makes perfect sense,” Donella said, “at least in the minds of people with money and influence. They would see it as throwing good money after bad. That attitude is certainly not the essence of charity, but it is the way of the world.”
“The world is stupid,” Samantha groused.
She knew she was acting like a ninny and a grump, but these last few days had shredded her nerves, thanks to Lord Beath and his threats. On top of those were the threats made by the mysterious villains in the slums, whose voices lurked constantly at the back of her mind.
“I need my pencil,” she said. “I’ve got to finish my list.”
Donella retrieved the pencil, and then plucked the notebook from Samantha’s hand. “Let me finish. I’m quite good at organizing holiday parties, especially large ones.”
“Thank you,” Samantha replied with a grateful smile. “I’d be lost without your help.”
She’d met Logan’s wife a few days ago, when Bathsheba had brought her for a visit. Although feeling shy about meeting one of Braden’s near relations, Samantha had found herself instantly comfortable in Donella’s company. The lovely young matron radiated a quiet self-assurance and a genuine kindness that made her easy to be with. And she’d been brilliant with Felicity, taking the time to have a genuine conversation with her.
Still, the more Samantha got involved with the Kendricks, the more she got tangled up with Braden. Given Lord Beath’s feelings about the Kendricks in general and Braden in particular, that was a problem. It was a problem for Samantha’s heart, as well, which stupidly insisted that getting involved with Braden Kendrick might be the solution to several of her problems.
“You worry too much, darling,” Bathsheba said. “The gala will be a huge success, and you’ll raise gobs of money.”
“Thanks to you two.”
After that dreadful encounter with Lord Beath where he had threatened to remove Felicity, Samantha had skated on the edge of a full-blown panic, unable to come up with a plan to appease the old scoundrel. Bathsheba, though, had seen right to the heart of the matter. Appeasing Beath meant catering to his pride. Since his true bone of contention was the foundation, they could spike his guns by showing him that the charity was held in high esteem by Edinburgh’s elite. Nothing, Bathsheba had claimed, could illustrate that more effectively than a grand charity gala attended by the best families in the city.
“But how do we get them to attend?” Samantha had exclaimed. “I’m not exactly the most popular woman in Edinburgh.”
“We give them something they can’t resist,” Bathsheba had mysteriously replied before whisking off.
She had then reappeared on Samantha’s doorstep the next morning, Donella in tow, to deliver the news that the Penwith Foundation would throw a grand holiday party in five days’ time. It was to be sponsored by the Kendricks and would feature an exclusive piano recital by Kade Kendrick, the toast of the Continent.
“The ladies of Edinburgh are madly in love with Kade and would kill to attend one of his concerts,” Bathsheba had said. “You’ll raise moneyandprove to nasty Lord Beath that the Edinburgh establishment is firmly behind you and the Penwith Foundation.”
Donella had agreed. “My husband is already telling his business associates that attendance is obligatory.”
Overwhelmed, Samantha had pointed out that five days was barely enough time to plan a dinner party. Donella had countered that the Kendricks would provide the staff and the resources, under her supervision. All Samantha had to do was draw up a guest list and instruct the foundation’s staff to assist as required.
Samantha had been stunned. Aside from Braden, she’d never met any of the Kendricks, and yet they were willing to go to a great deal of trouble and expense for a perfect stranger.
“It’s . . . it’s incredibly generous of you,” she’d stammered to Donella. “But I couldn’t possibly put your family to such trouble. You don’t even know me.”
“True, but you’re Braden’s friend. Which means you’re our friend, too.”
