Storm of Bells

12. Shopping Shenanigans

'Are you certain you wish me to accompany you? I'm not quite sure...I mean...perhaps I shouldn't leave your uncle alone for so long...'

'Oh, fiddlesticks. He'd never notice you were gone unless you took his accounting book with you.'

'Ehem. That's as may be, but, but still...'

'Oh, please, Aunt.' Giving her my best doe eyes, I blinked up at her. 'You are the closest thing I have to a mother.' Because all the other candidates from my family are rotting six feet under. 'I wouldn't dream of doing this without you. Besides, didn't you always say you wanted me to make a good marriage? Didn't you always say I needed to find a wealthy, well-bred man to take care of me? Well, now I have. Sounds to me like all your deepest wishes are coming true.'

'Well...ehem...' Aunt Brank hesitated. She had said that. Repeatedly. Loudly. And now it had happened. The only problem was, in her imaginings, it had always been she who miraculously managed to arrange a marriage to some knight or colonel for poor, hopeless little me. Then she would gloat for the next two dozen years and share the story with all her friends, lording it over me.

Now, however, I had gone and somehow caught myself a husband. What's more, one who was richer and higher up on the social ladder than my aunt could ever have imagined. And the worst thing was: she still had no bloody clue how the heck I had done it!

I sympathized. I really did. For about two seconds. Then I returned to the business of taking my sweet, sweet revenge.

'Please.' Batting my eyelashes again, I took her bony hand in mine. 'I couldn't do this without you.'

After all, the victim needs to be present.

'Well, if you put it like that...'

'Excellent! Let's go. The others will be waiting for us.'

Aunt Brank blinked. 'O-others?'

'Oh yes, of course. Didn't I mention that?' Another round of innocent eyelash-batting. Holy moly, I was good at batting. Maybe I should try out for a local cricket team. 'We're meeting a few friends before we leave, and—'

That very moment, the sound of the front doorbell echoed through the house.

'Oh, that should be them. Shall I let them in?'

My aunt harrumphed. 'Your friends, eh? I know what kind of "friends" you surround yourself with, Lillian Linton. Are you sure those friends will be able to behave themselves in the high-class fashion establishments we shall be frequenting?'

'Oh, I'm pretty sure.'

'Very well, then. Let them enter.'

I pulled open the door and, with a broad smile, gestured in the two ladies waiting outside. 'Come in, come in! Your Ladyships, may I introduce my aunt, Mrs Hester Mahulda Brank. Aunt, it is my pleasure to introduce Lady Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, sister to my intended, and her mother, Lady Samantha Genevieve Ambrose, The Marchioness Ambrose.'

The two ladies curtsied with perfect poise. 'Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs Brank,' the marchioness gushed. 'I've been longing to meet you. You must tell me how you managed to raise your niece to be such a wonderful, warm, well-mannered young lady.'

'Wrx,' my aunt said.

I nudged her with my elbow, whereupon her reflexes kicked in and she managed to sink into a wobbly curtsy.

'Very interesting,' Adaira nodded soberly, a little devil dancing in her eyes. 'I must say that I hadn't heard of the wrx parenting method before. I must try it on my future children.'