Free The Viscount Needs a Wife by Jo Beverley Page A

put her letter in the hall to go off with other correspondence, then returned to her room to consider what to wear for her next meeting with Dauntry. They’d come to an agreement, but he could still back out.
    Might he come for dinner? She’d wear the violet silk this evening, just in case. Tomorrow the blue linsey-woolsey, but by then he’d have seen most of what she had with her. She should have brought more. If Lady Cateril sent her belongings it would probably be by cart, and that could take the week. She laughed, shaking her head. For nearly two years she’d thought little of clothes other than the desire to move out of mourning, and here she was, in such a fuss. Dauntry wasn’t going to reject her now because her wardrobe wasn’t sufficiently varied.
    The engagement to marry had happened so quickly, however, and now it felt insubstantial and slippery, as if it could slither away with any wrong move.
    It is settled,
she told herself.
    Nothing will change.
    Which meant she must plan for her wedding.
    What to wear for that?
    The village would turn out to watch any wedding, but especially if they heard the local magnate was involved. She wasn’t the right sort of bride for a viscount, but she must look right.
The green print, the russet, or the blue stripe?
    And what bonnet? She’d brought only two. One was the plain black and the other gray. That could be trimmed with something brighter to match the blue or the green. With the brown dress, it would have to be the black.
    Oh, she hated to be in such a fiddle. She’d never been quite sure of style or what suited her, but in London she’d had an excellent dressmaker to advise her. Janet Saunders’s premises had been in the next street and she mainly did simple work, but she’d been capable of anything. Together they’d contrived to stretch Kitty’s money to provide a couple of stylish gowns a year, and Janet had firmly steered her away from disasters.
    At school Ruth had been her advisor. Kitty smiled at the memory of once desperately wanting lace-trimmed pink. She went to consult with Ruth and found her checking her inventory of medicines in the aromatic stillroom.
    â€œYou make your own? I always bought what I needed.”
    â€œLondon ways,” Ruth said. “Didn’t you help at the manor?”
    â€œWhat Lady Cateril has surrendered is done by Sarah. I suppose I could have pushed harder to take part, but I confess this sort of household management has never appealed to me.”
    â€œAs well you’re going to be a great lady, then, but I think even peeresses manage their stillrooms. You’d better learn. You can start by writing my notes.”
    Kitty hadn’t thought ahead to the actual running of a country house and it dismayed her, but she could do anything if she put her mind to it. She sat at the table with the book and the pen and wrote as dictated.
    When Ruth had completed her inventory of potions, Kitty said, “I must have Dauntry take me to the Abbey, so I’ll have an idea of how the place is managed.”
    â€œThat’s a good idea.”
    â€œWhat’s it like?”
    â€œThe Abbey?” Ruth said, moving on to shelves of glass jars holding leaves and powders. “I’ve been there only once. When I arrived here as a bride, I was taken to be presented.”
    â€œHeavens! As at court?”
    â€œThat seemed to be the idea. Lord Dauntry was pleasant enough—the previous one, of course. The dowager was gracious, but she sat as if enthroned. She is a Godyson, you know. The oldest barony in the country.”
    â€œMakes a point of that, does she?”
    â€œAlways. That visit was far too master-to-servant for my taste.”
    â€œDo they not invite you to entertainments?”
    â€œThey only ever entertain the aristocracy.”
    â€œBeing a Godyson, you know.”
    Ruth chuckled, but then bit her lip. “We shouldn’t be