The Tenacious Miss Tamerlane
“It wasn’t until she returned from a fruitless expedition to Bond Street, in an attempt to secure ribbon to match a gown of a particularly odd shade of yellow, with a red-eyed and still-sniffling Pansy in tow, that voices coming from the first floor sitting room (which the dowager had commandeered as her own) alerted Tansy that at least two of the ladies were up and about.
She quickly shed her bonnet and pelisse, shushed the curious maid, and tiptoed to the slightly-ajar door to shamelessly eavesdrop on a conversation she had an idea would prove most entertaining. She was not disappointed.
The first words Tansy heard were from Aunt Lucinda, who groaned piteously, “‘I pray thee let me and my fellow have a haire of the dog that bit us last night.” Heywood.”
“Stuff and nonsense, Lucinda, you bird-witted creature,” the dowager’s voice returned, a bit feebly. “Such a cure is only for seasoned drinkers, which by our joint performance last night is a title we cannot and certainly should not covet.
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