“We’ll take our refreshment in a moment, Mrs. Chandler. There was a minor mishap in the kitchens this morning,” West explained. They’d better be quick about it. He required fortification.

“I do hope your cook wasn’t injured. It’s so very difficult to find a good cook. They’re worth their weight in gold. I wish we’d brought ours from Boston.”

“We lost our dear Miss Beaton, and nothing’s been the same since,” said Birdie with an accusatory edge to her voice.

“Your Miss Beaton?” Miss Chandler inquired.

“Our music instructor. But she was our everything, really.” Birdie drummed her fingers on her knee as though she were playing the pianoforte.

“What happened to her?” asked Miss Chandler.

“She left her post. Because certain people can’t be civil.”

“That’s enough, Birdie,” West said. They weren’t here to discuss the lack of Miss Beaton. This was about wedding details, a subject best dispensed of as swiftly as possible. “Now then, about the wedding.”

“It must be the grandest, most expensive, most impressive wedding of the Season,” Mrs. Chandler said.

“To be sure,” replied Miss Chandler. “It must be far more grand and more expensive than Dottie Dalrymple’s wedding. She’s a lady now, you see. She married the Earl of Dexter last year. She came back to Boston and put on such airs. We were all meant to scrape our foreheads to the floor every time she entered a room. I’m going to return as a duchess, which bests a countess, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Quite right,” said Belinda. “You’ll be much higher ranking. She’ll have to defer to you.”

Miss Chandler clapped her hands. “I can’t wait for that moment. She’ll be the same color of green as my pelisse.”

“I attended her wedding,” Belinda said. “It was monstrously lavish. They had hothouse roses festooning the cathedral and her gown was embroidered all over with real gold thread.”

“Then I shall have hothouse orchids, which are far more difficult to grow in England, and my gown will be encrusted with diamonds.”

“And you’ll have more nobility in attendance, I’m determined,” said Mrs. Chandler. “A member of the royal family would be ideal. And I want as many dukes in the room as possible. I want to dazzle everyone with dukes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll provide the dukes,” West said.

“I want the wedding to be written up in the best London papers. We have the The Times delivered in Boston. It’s pored over most thoroughly by the hostesses there. It would be best if the announcement was as near the front page as possible. Do you have connections at The Times, Your Grace?”

“I’m often written about in the papers. None of it very flattering, I’m afraid.”

“Do put in a word. The public notice will be good for my husband’s political ambitions.”