Magnificent Devices 01 - Lady of Devices

child.”
    “I shall go see him at once.”
    Her fingers had barely touched the door handle when her mother said, “Claire?” She turned. “What is that in your hair?”
    If only she’d gone to see the baby before this interview! Then she could have passed it off somehow on him. “It is dried infusion of dandelion and burdock, Mama. I had an accident in Chemistry of the Home.”
    Lady St. Ives sighed and followed her to the door. “What am I going to do with you? Come and see your brother. It seems you are only fit to play with babies.”
    Claire could think of worse ways to spend an evening. Writing one hundred lines, for instance. What a lucky thing that Emilie had perfected her Multiple Nib Scrivener for this very purpose. With as many as ten pens affixed to an adjustable arm, Claire only had to write Professor Grünwald’s odious sentence ten times.
    Thank heaven for friends who could be depended on.

Chapter 4

    “I’m so pleased to have been invited, Lady St. Ives.” Emilie sounded breathless as she allowed the maid to take her coat and dipped a curtsey to Claire’s mother. Perhaps Emilie’s corset was laced too tightly. Or perhaps it was merely because invitations did not come her way that often.
    “We are pleased you could come.” She even sounded as if she meant it, though Claire would expect nothing less from her mother, whose manners were impeccable.
    She gave her friend a hug and whispered, “Thank heaven you’re here. I couldn’t bear it otherwise. We’re partners for bridge.”
    Emilie allowed herself to be steered into the parlor, while Claire braced herself to greet the next arrival. Lady Julia greeted her as if they were best friends, as did Lady Catherine. Feeling as false as Julia’s chignon, Claire pasted on a smile and kissed the air near their cheeks. They would all be taking the stage at Covent Garden at this rate.
    “What an unusual gown, Catherine,” she said with complete sincerity, taking in the pink silk creation trimmed within an inch of its life. One could hardly see where the dress left off and Catherine began. “Is it new?”
    “Delivered just this afternoon, in fact,” Catherine said, obviously pleased at the compliment. “I love Madame du Barry’s creations, don’t you? And these rows of lace trim—are they not the very latest?”
    “Indeed,” Julia murmured. “Claire, I believe you wore that blue to the Countess of Inglewood’s tea last month, did you not?”
    Claire was saved from a reply by the arrival of a tall young man who caused the melee in the hall to cease for all of five seconds while the young ladies measured his eligibility from head to foot.
    “Lord James Selwyn.” Penwith announced him and took his top hat and stick before the young man bowed to Claire’s parents.
    “I am delighted to see you both again. It was such a pleasure to meet you at Lady Belmont’s ball.” His hair was close-cropped and reddish-gold, and he wore a neatly trimmed beard that gave him a slightly rakish air. With such a twinkle in those hazel eyes, Claire could almost see him with a gold earring and a cutlass.
    “Selwyn.” Viscount St. Ives shook his hand, and the newcomer kissed the back of Lady St. Ives’s white kid glove as if he were a cavalier from a bygone age. When Claire and the other young ladies had been introduced, the viscount said, “Please join us in the parlor—I believe our party is now complete. I must be on my way to—”
    “Not quite, Papa,” Claire said. “Mrs. Churchill and Peony have yet to arrive.”
    “Peony?” Lady Julia looked over her shoulder, interrupted, Claire was certain, in the very act of slipping a chummy hand into the crook of Lord James’s elbow as they entered the parlor together. “Peony Churchill is coming?”
    “She accepted my invitation,” Claire said. “I hope they are able to come.”
    “Really.” Julia glanced at Catherine and Gloria. “How endlessly entertaining.” The little group closed ranks around Lord James and moved into the other room, already whispering.
    Claire had an uncomfortable ten minutes while playing the hostess, offering her guests tea and lemonade as they made small talk before dinner. Would Peony and her mother come at all? If they did, would Julia and the rest behave, or find some way to embarrass Peony to the point where she would never speak to Claire again? When the doorbell finally rang, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or even more anxious.
    She took Peony’s