“She was my mother’s dresser,” he had said. “After Mama died I kept her on because she had nowhere else to go, and she’s always looked forward to my marriage so that she could dress another Lady Mountwood. The decision is yours of course –”
Looking now at Miss Angleton’s face Venetia knew that she too would find her impossible to dismiss.
“I will rely on you to help me,” she said, embracing her warmly. “You’ll probably think I’m a little country mouse.”
“You are Lady Mountwood,” Miss Angleton said in a voice that settled all questions.
“I’ve never been put in my place so firmly,” she chuckled to her husband over dinner that night. “But she took charge of my luggage very efficiently and had two maids scurrying around while she barked out orders.”
“Only two?” he asked scandalised. “My m
