Page 5 of Hearts of Briarwall

“I’ve no idea.”

“Really, Lydia, it is entirely within your realm to ask questions and expect answers.”

“When it comes to a houseguest, anyway,” Violet murmured.

Ruby lifted her brow in agreement.

Lydia shook her head. “I wish you could all stay with me for the duration. I’m bound to make a bungling hostess. We’ve seldom had guests. Aside from the Piedmonts.”

Andrew had made her practice some scenarios at dinner during the last week, but it had only made her realize how inexperienced she was at being the lady of a house. No amount of rushed lessons could take the place of actual experience.

“Invite us to dinner,” Florrie said. “Or host an outing. You needn’t face this alone. We shall be at your beck and call.”

Lydia nodded, relieved by her friends’ support. “Perhaps I shall. All of you are hereby invited to dinner for the next week ... or so.”

Ruby tipped her head. “I’m afraid I cannot this week. Great-Aunt Margaret is staying with us.”

The others nodded with understanding. As the only daughter in her family, Ruby was required to attend to her aunt’s company and comfort when she visited, as Ruby’s mother’s nerves were no match for the woman.

“I’m afraid we’re dining with the Havershams tonight,” Violet said. “I should much rather be here when this clock-obsessed houseguest shows up. Bruce Haversham has taken to staring at me.”

“Bruce Haversham is but fifteen years old.”

“Exactly. And believe me, he is not staring at my captivating eyes.”

Lydia gave her a commiserating look.

“Perhaps I can join you tomorrow, or Friday,” Violet said. “I’ll have to clear it with Mama.”

“Come Friday. The Piedmonts will be here, and I won’t feel so set upon if I have you by my side.”

“Sir Lawrence tends to make everyone feel set upon. Friday it is.”

“Well,” Florrie said, “I’m here for you this evening. If anything, I’m curious to see our ever-austere Andrew as a ‘chum.’”

Lydia breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Florrie. I’ll speak to Mrs. Parks. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

“Because you buried your nose in a book as you always do when you’re avoiding something.” Violet smiled warmly.

Lydia shrugged. “You know me too well. As a matter of fact”—she glanced around the room—“youalllikely know me too well. I’ve no upper hand with any of you.” She grinned, and her friends returned it. How she adored these Wendy-birds. “Now, back to the meeting. Violet? Anything more?”

Violet moved on with her notes. “Next. Ruby was asked to give her usual report on anything useful she’d learned from her plethora of brothers. We discussed how the scent of rose water made Cyril’s nose burn and lavender gave Oscar a headache, but both men agreed that orange blossom or a vanilla scent was pleasant. A bothersome scent seemed to play an important factor in whether or not they pursued the lady, no matter her beauty. It was agreed that we would think on the matter and consider our own selections of scents.”

“If you ask me,” Florrie said, “I daresay it’s different for every man—what fragrances attract him. Why would they make a lavender scent if it drove all men to a headache?”

“Perhaps,” Lydia said dryly, “they make it for women because womenlikeit.”

Florrie sighed. “You say that because you often wear lavender.”

“Briarwall boasts an entire lavender field, Florrie. It would be treason not to wear it sometimes. And Ilikeit. What a relief I’m not vying for Oscar Burke’s attentions. No offense, dear Ruby.”

“None taken.”

“I wear lily of the valley,” Florrie declared. “I’m told it suits me.”

Lydia turned to her. “It does. But would you wear it if it drove a man who interested you to a headache?”

Florrie opened her mouth to respond but paused.

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