—The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham to her newest lady’s maid, the fifth in as many months. The distinct scent of kippers wafting from the sideboard mere feet from where he sat alone in the morning room was perhaps the only sour note in an otherwise glorious day. Even the mild fishy odor was...
Mark my words. A devil may disguise himself as a saint only so long before his horns begin perforating his hat.” —The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham to her companion, Humphrey, upon learning of the remarkable transformation of the scandalous Marquess of Rutherford. “T...
And a clever one puts them to proper use.” —The Dowager Marchioness of Wallingham to Lady Rutherford upon said lady’s remarkable description of Lord Rutherford’s newly acquired skills. Lying naked on the bed and rapidly developing a chill, Viola propped herself up on her...