“As you can see, the scrollwork is quite unique,” the bearded shopkeeper said with a flourish of his hand. Just as she opened her mouth to tell him that she’d seen three other platters with the same scrollwork, she was interrupted by tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found Miss Pursglove scowling in disapproval. “I must object once more, Miss McFarland,” Miss Pursglove said with an uptight sniff. “Surely your father’s man would be a better applicant for this task.” Miss Pursglove, Bree, and Elena Mallory were all attending this morning’s errand. Miss Pursglove had professed to needing assurance that the gift was a “proper representation of Mr. McFarland’s station.” Bree had come because Miss Pursglove had told her to do so. And dear cousin Elena had tagged along in order to be the first person who knew what gift the McFarlands were giving Viscount and Viscountess Rathburn. Some days, the joys of Delaney’s existence were simply too plentiful. Even so, this experience was innumerably better than the one she’d had at Thomas & Bailey’s five days ago.
