One was sent off to Bath with a servant and one to Lord and Lady Charlesworth in London to alert them to Merry’s whereabouts. As Merry had brought very few clothes with her, Charity took her to her chamber to find her something suitable until her clothes arrived, as requested in the letter. Merry immediately pounced on a gold brocade with a plunging neckline. She held it up in the mirror. “I love this.” “When you are a young matron I shall give it to you,” Charity said. “But for now, your gowns must be modest as befitting your age.” Merry fingered a skirt of bright coral silk damask. “Pooh!” “My dear,” Charity said, feeling every minute of her two and twenty years, “I hope you will put your trust in me.” Merry rushed over to throw her arms around Charity. “Of course I will. I believe you to be very, very wise.” “Not very wise, but a little more so now than at your age,” Charity said with a rueful smile. She tidied her hair after the fierce onslaught. “We go to a supper party tonight at Lord Gloucester’s home in Richmond.”
