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Lady Stapleford was all kindness, Cici rhapsodised. Cici had outfitted herself with what Ronnie thought was an overly fussy gown, decorated with little bows and rosebuds beyond attractiveness to the point of gaudy. But Lady Stapleford had expressed admiration.
Mama described Lady Stapleford’s gown of lilac silk with tastefully subdued garnets and a pearl brooch. William's sister Anthea had dressed in bright blue, far too bright for Mama’s eye, but she managed to compliment herself on her own pale green sarsenet - to her view, the finest of the ladies' attire.
Cici effervesced about the rose garden, though she seemed disappointed in William’s sister’s reception. Somehow, she said, Cici had expected to experience an instant connection, a mutual admiration for William, and an instantaneous alliance over his future prospects. A real dedication to his interests, which Cici considered identical to her own. Instead, Anthea had hardly referenced her brother or the upcoming nuptials at all, instead talking of some novel she had read, before explaining how rare the imported blossoms were, which Cici had admired. Full of herself, for certain, Cici pronounced. "And not what I was hoping to find in a future sister."
On the other hand, Cici was thrilled with her future mother-in-law.
"Lady Stapleford suggested that I have a miniature portrait made of myself, as a gift to William. Wasn't that wonderful of her? And she wants a copy for herself too. And of course, another for Mama and Papa."
Ronnie almost blurted out the idea of having a dozen made, one for every member of the family, perhaps enough for all of their friends, with the Montgomerys paying for everything. But she stifled the thought. Why interfere with Cici's happiness? Maybe it would satisfy their mother for the moment.
Chapter Four
Captain Drew strolled back to his desk after completing his consultation with the chef. He sat down and centred the stack of correspondence and invoices which required his attention. Soon the sound of a carriage, and the loud voice of someone reciting his name, heralded the arrival of the man he’d been watching for, the Lord Appleby of Miss Montgomery’s aversion.
As he approached, Andrew classified him as florid and stout, just as she’d described, with the look of a country squire, but obviously one who outfitted himself with the finest of boots and a handsome driving coat.
Drew rose and walked towards Lord Appleby.
"Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to the Royal Arms. I am Captain Drew, the manager of this establishment."
"Good day. I am Lord Appleby. My dear friend Lady Montgomery informs me you will have accommodations for me and my servants."
"Yes, I have arranged for your comfort at the establishment of Mrs. Carrington, who has spacious rooms for you, just a few doors down the Esplanade."
"Not here at your pile?"
Appleby twisted his face into a frown.
"Lady Montgomery and her daughter are staying here. For the sake of appearances, she thinks you would be more contented nearby."
"I suppose she knows best. The lady has to think of her daughter's reputation."
"I made the arrangements in accordance with her views."
"Well, yes. You see I am courting her daughter, the elder one, Miss Veronica Montgomery."
"I see."
"She is a slippery one. Feigns disinterest, but I'll bring her 'round. Won't reject becoming a Baroness, I’d wager. And I have a fine place, Applewood. Best of Lancashire's fruits."
"I fear I must admit to ignorance of the area."
"We make the output of those Kentish apple orchards seem sour in comparison. If I can entice the lady to see what she would be the mistress of, she'll have not the smallest reluctance to be the next Lady Appleby."
Captain Drew nodded, though he thoroughly disagreed.
"May I ask my assistant, Mr. Banks, to escort you to your new abode?"
Drew almost snorted aloud at the way he was toadying to the fellow.
Once Appleby left, Captain Drew sent a note up to Lady Montgomery telling her Appleby had arrived. He wished he could add that the Baron was completely wrong for Miss Montgomery. Torturously incompatible.
******
"Veronica, my dear, may I have a word with you?" Lady Montgomery asked, tucking a note away in the latest copy of Ackermann's.
The back of Ronnie’s neck prickled at her mother’s tone. Something sounded like an ultimatum in those few words.
