Isobel insisted on going down for dinner. She sent Polly in search of a cane and, by dint of leaning on her maidservant’s arm, hobbled downstairs, muttering unladylike curses under her breath every time she had to put wet on her injured foot.
“ Why you insisted on this gown I will never know,” said Polly as she grumbled pausing for breath on every first landing.” Thought we were saving it for the big dinner before the musical performance in two days’ time.”
“I am trying to counteract the impression that I am a hoyden without an outfit and in the latest mode to my name.”
“Hmm. One does not follow from the other. That Lady Amelia has been poking at you, has she not?”
“Yes,” Isobel admitted.
“Pads her bodice, she does,” said Polly as if confiding in her.” Saw her woman adjusting one of t
