“Lady Wolcott’s mother was a Peabody,” interceded Saybrook smoothly.
“Hmmph.” Another look, this one unaided by special optics. “I can’t say that I see the resemblance.”
“Such things are not always so apparent,” replied the earl. Before his aunt could respond, he quickly changed the subject. “I see you have met Lord Percival Grentham, Lady Wolcott.”
“Yes, and I cannot say that the experience is one I care to repeat.”
“And no wonder.” The dowager gave a small sniff. “These days I hear he is better known as ‘Persecute’ Grentham. He was not, however, such an odious man in his youth. His mother would be greatly disappointed at what a stick in the mud he has become.”
“Yes, but like most of London’s citizens, she would be terrified to say it aloud, for fear of being hauled off to prison on charges of sedition,” quipped the earl.
Repressing a shudder, Arianna tried not to recall his cold-blooded touch. “I admit, his manner was intimidating. I shall take care to avoid him in the future.”
“A wise choice,” murmured Saybrook. His gaze held hers for a moment, and for some reason, the fleeting connection helped settle her nerves. There was, she admitted, something to be said for not feeling utterly alone.
“Ha, let him try to breathe fire and brimstone at me, and he will end up with his own bum burned,” remarked Lady Sterling.
Arianna ducked her head to hide a smile. Strange, but she felt an immediate kinship with the outspoken dowager. Which was ludicrous, considering that the only thing that had drawn them together was a web of lies.
“I don’t doubt it,” said the earl. “You can be quite a dragon when you so choose.”
“Ungrateful boy.” Lady Sterling rapped his shoulder with her fan. “You will have the poor gel more frightened of me than of Grentham.”
Saybrook’s jaw gave a tiny little tic, as if he were trying not to laugh. “I would guess that any relative of ours is made of sterner stuff than that.”
The dowager turned her attention to Arianna. “Ignore my nephew’s teasings. He can be impossibly annoying at times.” She cleared her throat. “Be that as it may, he tells me you have only recently arrived in Town.”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Well, you must come pay me a visit if you wish any advice for how to get along in Society. Sandro will tell you that there is not a soul who knows more about the ton and its secrets than I do.”
Secrets. Keeping a smile pasted in place, Arianna acknowledged the invitation. “How very kind.”
“Oh, pish.” Lady Sterling waved a bejeweled hand. “We are, after all, family, my dear, and family must look out for each other.”
For a fleeting instant, the cacophony of the crowded ballroom was drowned out by a strange keening sound in her ears. Like the weeping of the wind on a stormtossed night.
“May I get you more champagne, Lady Wolcott?” asked the earl softly.
Arianna realized that she was gripping her glass so tightly its stem was in danger of breaking in two. “No. Thank you.” All at once, the heat and noise seemed unbearable, but before she could excuse herself, Lady Sterling suddenly narrowed her gaze.
“Well, well, well. I see that Persecute isn’t the only odd guest here.” The dowager’s attention seemed riveted on a spot to the right of the refreshment table. “Hortense is such a high stickler. I am surprised that she would invite Lady Spencer.”
Sure enough, Arianna spotted her erstwhile employer deep in conversation with Gavin.
“Why do you say that?” inquired Saybrook. His tone was deceptively casual, yet his body had become more alert.
“To begin with, she is the Prince’s current mistress,” answered the dowager. “Or one of them. It’s hard to keep a precise tally.”
“If Lady Ravenell chose not to invite all the ladies who have slept with Prinny, the ballroom would be half empty,” murmured the earl.
“True.” Lady Sterling toyed with the ribbon of her quizzing glass. “Still, given the position that Hortense’s husband holds at the Bank of England, I find it strange that she would overlook the other scandal.”
Arianna noted the subtle sharpening of Saybrook’s features. “What other scandal, Aunt Constantina?” he inquired softly.
“Oh, that unpleasant mess from the last century. Lady Spencer’s maternal grandfather was Mr. George Carsall.” The dowager waited expectantly for the earl to respond. When his only reaction was a raised brow, she heaved an impatient sigh. “For God’s sake, don’t they teach English history at Oxford anymore?”
He gave an apologetic shrug. “As you know, my interests lay in other studies.”
“Well, much as I adore your chocolate creations, Sandro, all peers ought to pay attention to that particular subject in order to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.”
“I stand duly chastised,” replied Saybrook. “Perhaps you would care to fill the hole in my knowledge?”
The dowager slanted another owlish squint at Lady Spencer. “My dear boy, Carsall was a governor of the Sword Blade Bank. Now, please don’t tell me that you haven’t heard of them and the South Sea Company, else I may have to resort to my smelling salts.”
17
I’ve just found a wonderful colored botanical engraving of a cacao tree and fruit in one of the antiquarian bookshops. I shall have it framed for Sandro, as he will appreciate all the scientific nomenclature inscribed at the bottom. During his studies at Oxford, he was fascinated by Carolus Linnaeus, a Swedish scientist who in 1753 devised a system for classifying all living organisms. Each has a Latin name, and chocolate is called Theobroma cacao. How fitting that Theobroma means food of the gods. . . .
1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
12 ounces fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (not unsweetened), chopped
½ stick unsalted butter
2 large eggs
½ cup walnuts, coarsely chopped
½ cup sambuca or other anise-flavored liqueur
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 cup confectioner’s sugar
1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Melt chocolate with butter in a metal bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, stirring until smooth. Lightly whisk together eggs, walnuts, sambuca, and granulated sugar in another bowl. Stir in flour mixture and chocolate (dough will be thin). Chill, covered, until firm, about 2 hours.
3. Sift confectioner’s sugar onto a plate. Roll heaping tablespoons of dough into balls and roll balls, as formed, in confectioner’s sugar to generously coat. Arrange balls 2 inches apart on 2 lightly buttered baking sheets and bake in upper and lower thirds of oven, switching position of sheets halfway through baking, until puffed and cracked but centers are still a bit soft, 10 to 12 minutes total. Transfer to racks to cool.
Arianna sucked in an audible breath.
“Bravo, gel,” said the dowager. “You appear far more educated than my nephew on the history of financial scams and scandals.”
“N-not really,” she stammered.
“Even I have heard of the South Sea Bubble,” said Saybrook.