Her Grace the Duchess of Winshire asked her daughter-in-law, the Duchess of Haverford, to pour the tea. Her youngest stepdaughter, Rosemary, handed the cups around, her ward Frances following behind with plates of delicate treats.
The ladies who had gathered at Eleanor Winshire’s invitation chatted amongst themselves, waiting patiently for Eleanor to explain why she had called them together.
They were some of the most influential ladies of London, all of them connected to Eleanor by marriage, friendship or family. Eleanor planned to put them to work. She waited until all of them had been served, and then she spoke.
“Ladies.”
The hum of conversation in the room trailed away, and all eyes turned to Eleanor. She had planned how to begin, what happened next would be up to her friends and allies.
“A newcomer to Society is being targetted with lying gossip, and I want to help her. I would welcome your advice and assistance.”
Those gathered nodded or inclined their heads, but no one spoke.
“I speak of the former Lady Arial Bledisloe, daughter of the House of Stancroft and now Viscountess Ransome,” she explained.
Someone, she did not see who, breathed, “Lady Beast.”
“Yes,” said Eleanor. “That is the problem in a nutshell. A fine young woman subjected to such a heinous name. What, ladies, do we know about her and her husband? And about those who are campaigning against her?”
