Rue giggled. “Paw’s got great hearing but he’s at the Bureau tonight. Even he can’t hear you all the way across London.”

Her mother’s face was all thunderclouds. “Give up stays, indeed! With your figure? To think, you’ve been dancing without support. Lordy, lordy. The uncontrollable wobble of it all! And now bloomers as well?” She turned to Dama as a new possible ally rather than enemy in the matter of her daughter. “My dear lord, how are we to remedy the catastrophe that is my progeny?”

Rue would have none of it. “Mother, it’s done. Besides, why should I obey the bounds of polite dress?”

“Because, infant, you are a proper gentlewoman. The daughter of two lords and a lady. You have standards to maintain.” Her mother was moved to impassioned gesticulation for emphasis. It was the Italian ancestry that did it.

Rue rolled her eyes.

Her mother turned again to Dama. “What are we to do with her?”

“Ah, good, Alexia my gherkin, I’m delighted you brought that question up. I do believe that what our Puggle requires is an occupation.”

Rue’s mother sputtered.

Dama was ready. “Now, now, my dear, cast your mind back some quarter century or so. I do believe you once got into a great deal of trouble yourself, all because you hadn’t an occupation. Now, you are settled into your duties, I have my potentate responsibilities, your husband has BUR, even Rabiffano has his hat shop. Puggle needs the same, don’t you, darling?”

Rue would hardly have put it like that, but since she was keen on the idea of travelling, she nodded, and watched her mother for an adverse reaction.

Whatever incident Dama alluded to seemed to do the necessary because her mother’s imminent boil-over subsided. She twisted her parasol about in her grasp and actually gave the matter serious thought.

She caught Rue’s eye. “I suppose, were you an ordinary child, you’d be married by now. And since you’ve been vampire-raised, people have mostly stopped trying to kill you. I worry, that’s all. What will become of you?”

Rue was touched. “Aw, you actually love me.”

Alexia Maccon scooped her child in closer to her on the couch with one arm and kissed her temple. “Of course I do, infant.”

Rue hid a smile. Sometimes it was too easy. “So, this ball I was at…” Before you get hold of tomorrow’s gossip rags.

“Very well, tell me all. What’s the situation with the tea? What did you do to poor Uncle Rabiffano? And why were you gallivanting about London in your bloomers?”