Page 74 of Impeccable
Harriet strolled in with several minutes to spare. “Are we ready for today?” she asked weightily, one eyebrow arching.
Evie took a deep breath. “I think so. Thank you for coming early. That helps to steel my nerves.”
“And mine,” Harriet said, moving to pour herself a glass of sherry.
“I really ought to just have four glasses filled.” Evie clucked her tongue.
“This gives me something to do instead of pluck at invisible threads.” Harriet sipped her sherry. “I am actually rather anxious.”
“Did I hear someone say anxious?” Emma sailed into the room with a grim expression. “Pour one for me too, and don’t be stingy.”
Harriet filled a second glass, which she handed to Emma, then a third. “I assume you want one, Evie?”
“At least one.” She accepted the wineglass and lifted it. “To friendship and support.”
“To a united front,” Emma added.
“To the best damn sherry in London,” Harriet said.
They all grinned, then drank.
“Better,” Emma said with a nod before walking to her chair. “Any idea whom Millie is going to propose?”
Evie shook her head. “None.”
Harriet took her seat. “I haven’t a clue. I tried to think of members who are her close friends, and honestly, I couldn’t.” She looked at both Evie and Emma.
“You’re right,” Emma said. “I can’t think of anyone either. I can think of ladies I’ve seen her with or heard her speak of, and none of them are members.”
“Well, this doesn’t bode well,” Evie murmured before taking another sip of the delicious, and absolutely necessary today, sherry. “Let’s discuss the first themed ball in case she arrives early.”
There was a moment of silence followed by laughter—none of them expected her to be early. In fact, she ended up arriving almost ten minutes late. Her cheeks were flushed as she closed the door. There was no mention of her tardiness. She simply went to the table, poured her sherry, then took her seat with a rather prim look.
Evie set her sherry on the table next to her chair and summoned a bright smile. “Good afternoon, fellow patronesses.” She decided not to waste any time. Why delay the discomfort? “Millie, are you prepared to suggest a potential patroness?”
“I am,” she said, lifting her chin. She took a long drink of sherry and seemed to take extra time in swallowing, as if she were trying to draw out their anticipation. She likely didn’t realize they felt more dread than excitement. “I think Lady Corby would make an excellent patroness.”
Had she not listened to what Evie had said? Resisting the urge to smack her forehead, Evie pulled her mouth into a tight smile. “Unfortunately, Lady Corby is ineligible as she is not a member.”
“She should be. I’ve recommended her several times. I’ve recommended her again. Just this morning, in fact. I sent a note to Lord Lucien.”
He either hadn’t read it yet or he’d been too busy to tell Evie. They’d certainly discuss it later.
“Well, seeing as she is not currently a member, we can’t vote on her today.” Against her better judgment, Evie offered her another chance. “Is there anyone else you’d like to propose?”
Millie sputtered, her face redder now than when she’d arrived. “Not anyone who has been granted membership.”
“All right, we’ll go ahead and vote on the ladies proposed last week. All those in favor of—”
“It isn’t fair!” Millie shot to her feet, spilling her sherry. Muttering a curse, she set the glass on the table between her and Emma’s chairs. She shook her hand out, and sherry droplets went flying.
“No, it isn’t. Such a waste of good sherry,” Harriet murmured.
Evie had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing, and she purposely didn’t look at Harriet or Emma lest she not be able to contain herself.
Millie sent Harriet a furious glance. “None of my closest friends are members, and they are the ladies I would propose.”
“You know membership is not up to us,” Evie said quietly, bracing herself for the coming storm.
