"And what," the dowager demanded in a deep voice that set the Sevres vase on the mantelpiece to jiggling, "is that?" Whilst Aunt Loretta was performing her only party trick, Samantha had taken the time to rise and face the dowager, doing a quick inventory of her ladyship at the same time. Egad, she thought, the woman must be six feet tall if she's an inch, and built more along the lines of a village blacksmith than a peeress of the realm. All in all, quite an imposing figure, decked out as it was in deep purple draperies, the whole topped off by a veritable bush of hair that was incongruously snow-white on the crown and sides and coal-black at the back. Zachary's hair will look like that one day, Samantha thought to no purpose. Then she shook herself mentally and, valiantly blocking the dowager's view of the rapidly wilting Isabella, told her newest relative, "That, as you put it, is our dear Aunt Loretta—chaperon, companion, and mentor of our formative years." "Hummph!' snorted her ladyship.
What do You think about The Rambunctious Lady Royston?
