#perceptionstudio

She had been feeling poorly for the past week, and her doctor had insisted that a diet of thin gruel and broth would be the best means of balancing her humors. While Eugenia had privately disagreed, her husband had espoused the idea to the servants and they had served her nothing else for several days; the dangers of not bringing at least a few servants from one's old household - not even the kitchen maids would take pity on her and give her some of the serviceable meat pies they served for the downstairs luncheon.

She suppressed a sigh and poured herself a cup of tea, then - after a surreptitious glance around to make sure Bowles had truly left - poured the cream and sugar meant for her cup into the bowl of gruel. It made it palatable, if still not particularly appetizing, and she quickly sipped at the gruel. While the cook for the house made excellent meals, ones that drew many compliments from guests, she also made the worst gruel Eugenia had ever had the misfortune to taste and letting it go cold would only make it worse.

She had just finished and was about to take a restorative sip of tea - black though it was - when the bell sounded at the front door. Eugenia glanced at the clock in surprise; it was only just barely an acceptable hour to expect visitors, and she had sent the kitchen boy Todd around with notes to all her friends about her illness. Who, then, could be at the door?

Her question was answered posthaste as her dear friend Lady Letitia Datchery, Baroness Mowbray, pushed her way past Bowles and into the library.

"My dear Eugenia! Oh you look positively transparent, and I know I am being terribly rude but I simply must tell you the news!"

Eugenia hastily rose from her seat and gestured Letitia to the armchair beside her sofa.

"Not at all Letitia! You are, of course, always welcome in this house. You must forgive my attire, I was not expecting visitors; Bowles, please fetch some more tea and some scones for Lady Letitia, and see if cook has any biscuits as well."

Letitia waved away the apology and Bowles looked between the two women briefly bowing with a courteous "My Lady" and disappearing in that way all good servants could. Letitia settled onto the couch, her elegant skirts more rumpled than the motion would have cause and her hair only barely contained in an updo - there were even a few hairs escaping the pins, little coils hanging loosely in a manner that spoke to haste. Indeed, she could barely contain herself as Bowles reappeared with a new tray, this one containing a larger teapot, an additional teacup, and a plate of scones and a little pot of jam.

It was only when he had placed his bounty on the table - with a murmur to Eugenia about biscuits being forthcoming in another twenty minutes - and withdrew that Letitia began to speak. She didn't even wait for Eugenia to pour, simply dashing right in.

"Oh I know you have been feeling unwell this past week my dear Eugenia, and yet I wish to G-d that you could have been to the Turell ball yesterday evening!"

Eugenia handed her a cup - more cream than tea, as she knew Letitia had particular tastes when it came to blends and had complained the first time she had come to take tea in Eugenia's then-new abode - before refreshing her own with cream and taking one of the scones.

"Why, was it so perfectly dreadful? I had heard it was her first time to host, but her mother has always put on a good party."

Letitia waved vaguely, as if brushing aside some nonsense that had no place whatsoever in the conversation, before taking a scone herself and adding a generous serving of the strawberry jam to the top of it.

"No, no, it was quite a good time - though Lady Petra was there and of course she brought along her beastly man Chompa. Really, I don't know what she sees in the lout, all he does is stuff all the food in his oafish mouth."

Eugenia snickered and took a bite of her scone. It was a very good scone, being neither too dry nor too crumbly, and as it was the first solid food she'd had in a week it tasted as the very manna from heaven. If Lord Chompa had been present, she would not have gotten any and he would have drunk the whole pot of tea besides; she'd attended a party or two where he'd been present before.

"Did you starve the rest of the evening, then?"

Letitia shook her head, dislodging another curl from her coiled hair.

"Oh no, it was too wonderful! I don't know how her staff managed it, but the footman contrived to never get within arm's reach of Chompa! It was the most glorious comeuppance for that bottomless pit, for they passed close enough for him to see the food and smell, but never so closely that he managed to grab a bite! Well, until he stood up and accosted one of them, which was a bit of a disappointment for I've never known the crass fool to be put in his place so solidly."

Letitia took a meditative bite of her jam-smeared scone.

"No, it was a masterstroke worthy of an experienced hostess, and I must regret that what happened later so overshadowed it."

Eugenia raised an eyebrow as she sipped at her tea. Having solid food in her stomach had quite restored her appetite for gossip; whatever had happened later in the ball must surely be the scandal of the Season if it overshadowed someone finally getting the better of Chompa's disgusting displays of gluttony.

"Oh"

Letitia actually put her scone down and leaned over to place a hand on Eugenia's arm, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"The Bow Street Runners came and clapped Baron Kingsley in irons!"

Eugenia dropped her teacup, the delicate blue Wedgewood shattering as it met the dark wood floor. Heedless of the mess, Eugenia put her hand to her mouth.

"The Baron! Whatever for?"

Letitia grinned, clearly relishing in Eugenia's shock.

"Nobody knows; well of course, the party couldn't continue after a thing like that! That may not be the worst of it, though, for the Baron."

Eugenia could feel both of her eyebrows rise in disbelief as Bowles and a maid appeared in the door to the library. Bowles held a new cup - from the same set as the old, thankfully - and a plate of fresh biscuits, and the maid had the pieces of the old cup swept up tidily in short order; fortunately, the cup had been empty so no mopping was required.

"Thank you, Bowles, Ailse. What do you mean, not the worst? Surely there can be no worse fate than being pulled in front of the magistrate like some sort of common criminal?"

Letitia giggled. It wasn't a mean giggle, by any means, but it did have the sort of edge to it that meant there was satisfaction to it at another's expense.

"Do you remember the Van der Gunchs? With their perfectly horrible smelters in Cheltenham?"

Eugenia nodded, slightly mystified at the change in topic.

"Well, their youngest - Periwinkle - was at the party, brandishing a weapon - do you remember the incident at the Tremaines' hunting party last year? Some silly clunch gave her another gun - and the Baron took it away from her and removed the cartridges from it in a very professional manner before storing it in his own pocket. Well, you know how the silly chit is about her guns so she is convinced he is in love with her and she is, of course, head over heels for him, and all she need do to hear wedding bells is remove the bars from around her beloved!"

Eugenia did indeed remember the incident at the hunting party; Periwinkle's then-fiance had indulged her unbecoming interest in firearms and brought her on a grouse hunt. Neither of them would say what exactly had happened, but young Bray had been confined to bed for several weeks with a bullet lodged in his thigh and the betrothal had been broken rather frostily.

She pursed her lips.

"Well, it cannot be the worst match; I hear the Baron has gambling debts in need of honoring, and the Van der Gunchs are a very rich family - indeed, I imagine her mama is all but salivating over the Baron's title. I would be surprised if she didn't push for the idea harder than Periwinkle."