Agatha and Dimity trotted up at that juncture.
Petunia turned to them. “Which one of you is Miss Woosmoss?”
Agatha curtsied politely. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Hisselpenny.”
“Ah, yes. Well, my husband and your father are business associates, and as I was coming down to collect Sophronia, he suggested I bring you and your little companion—Dimity, is it?—along. We shall make a merry party of it all the way to London.”
Agatha and Dimity made delighted noises, and Petunia glowed at being thought the magnanimous benefactress. How is it I never knew that all she wanted was to be a gracious hostess? Sophronia was curious as to whether these were changes in her sister, or in her own perception of her sister. But Petunia did seem to genuinely enjoy herself—ordering about the coachman and ensuring the safety of the luggage as it was lifted up top.
“Now, who prefers facing? Miss Woosmoss?” Petunia had obviously been instructed by her husband to be particularly nice to Agatha. However, none of Geraldine’s girls were so foolish as to antagonize without purpose. If Petunia wanted to make a fuss over Agatha, they were happy to let her.
“Why, Mrs. Hisselpenny, what a lovely carriage. So well padded.” It was only adults and boys who threw Agatha off. Petunia, Agatha could manage.
“Did you notice the foot warmers? My dear Mr. Hisselpenny is too good to me,” gushed Petunia.
Dimity hopped in next. “Lovely.”
“Thank you.” Petunia had not yet grown so accustomed to luxury that it failed to improve her goodwill, particularly when seated in the lap of it.
It was an uneventful journey. Sophronia stuck to a policy of saying the third nice thing that came into her head, rather than the first snappish one. Agatha was pleasantly warmhearted, as only Agatha could be in the face of abject frivolity. And Dimity and Petunia filled up the space in between with chatter so unending as to make them fast friends by the end of an hour, and bosom companions in the most superficial way by the end of the first day’s drive.
Petunia’s new magnanimous nature saw them set up in the best suite of rooms at the inn and dining in rustic splendor on mock turtle soup, roast sirloin of beef with horseradish, Brussels sprouts, cabinet pudding, and Stilton cheese with celery and pulled bread.
Petunia seemed inclined to eat mainly her vegetables, turning quite green at the smell of the Stilton. This surprised Sophronia into asking if her husband belonged to a religious sect to which Petunia had converted. Why else give up cheese?
“Dear me, no.” Petunia lowered her voice, even though they had a private dining room. “I am increasing.”
That, of course, caused much squealing. For although unmarried ladies were not to know of such things, Geraldine’s girls had some training from Sister Mattie on the subject of preventative measures. After all, children were very incommodious when practicing espionage. This, Sophronia realized, opened up the perfect topic of conversation for the remainder of their journey to London. Because, of course, it had been decided that both Agatha and Dimity must, simply must, also come to town. Well, Agatha lived there, but Dimity must stay with Sophronia and the Hisselpennys. For they must all shop together.
Dimity sent a letter to her parents from the inn, convinced that they would welcome the opportunity to punt her off to London. Sophronia made certain to confirm this in private.
“They’re in the middle of a new invention. Plus, they never know what to do when only one of us is home. When it’s me and Pillover, they insist we can entertain each other. Sometimes I think that’s why they had two of us. Poor Pillover—as a baby it meant a lot of dress-up. Thank goodness I was older. Can you imagine what he might have done to me, if I were the younger? Doesn’t bear contemplating.”
“Capital. I really am looking forward to it. And Petunia doesn’t realize we’ve been learning more than simply etiquette.” Sophronia gave her best evil smile.
Dimity giggled. “Which speaks well of either your talent or her willingness to be deceived.”
“Is that a compliment?”
Agatha shook her red curls. “You should take it as one, Sophronia. Remember what Lady Linette says about compliments?”
“They are better than jewelry when hung about a girl.”
Dimity was suspicious. “Which I’ve never quite believed, but if it’s what you’ve got, take it.”