The Etiquette of Love (The Academy of Love Book 7) by Minerva Spencer & S.M. LaViolette

Author:Minerva Spencer & S.M. LaViolette [Spencer, Minerva & LaViolette, S.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Sixpence Press
Published: 2025-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Married?” Freddie repeated rather stupidly.

Lori grinned gleefully. “Yes, married.” She held out her hand, which sported a plain gold band on her fourth finger. “You see before you Viscountess Severn.”

Freddie could only stare.

Lori did not appear to notice her stupefaction and babbled happily. “I am sorry I did not invite you to the wedding, Freddie, but it was a very small one. In fact, it was just Severn, me, and my brother and his family.”

Finally, Freddie collected enough of her scattered wits to say, “I am so happy for you, Lori.” She took the other woman’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I need not ask if you are happy as you are positively glowing. And stylish.” She took in Lori’s stunning peacock blue carriage ensemble.

Lori grinned. “Thank you. And no, I did not choose it. It is Severn’s doing.”

“Ah…So, it was the viscount who was your secret admirer and bought you those other lovely gowns.”

Lori laughed. “Secret admirer. What a quaint term. I like it. And yes, my husband has far better taste in clothing than I will ever have. He purchased a few items for me himself, but he has commanded me to fill my massive dressing room at Severn House without delay.”

It was Freddie’s turn to laugh. “Why do I find it difficult to imagine you obeying any man’s command?”

“I have become wiser already. I have learned that by seeming to comply without a struggle one can usually then do what one wants.”

Freddie pursed her lips and shook her head. “I predict stormy times ahead for poor Lord Severn.”

“It is what he likes best,” Lori assured her, making her laugh again. “As for shopping and spending great piles of his money, that is not a difficult command to obey.” Her expression turned anxious. “At least not if you will assist me? If you don’t help me, you know I will end up with a dismal wardrobe.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said, speaking the truth. Freddie had itched to see the other woman wearing flattering clothing for years.

“Excellent! When are you free?”

Freddie went to fetch her appointment book. Tomorrow she and Piers were going to the British Museum to talk with one of the curators about the chess pieces. Because it had been Freddie’s idea her brother had—grudgingly—agreed to allow her to go along.

“But only to see this museum bloke,” Piers had warned. “Do not take it into your head to play sleuth and pursue the killer on your own, Little Bird.”

“Freddie?”

She looked up from her calendar at her friend’s voice and smiled. “The day after tomorrow I can put myself solely at your disposal.”

“Lovely.” Lori’s joyous expression turned speculative. “I don’t mean to pry—” she broke off and frowned at Freddie’s disbelieving laugh. “Very well. So I do mean to pry. I was worried when you disappeared for more than a week and neither Mrs. Brinkley nor anyone else knew where you’d gone.” A notch of concern settled between her glorious green eyes. “Did something happen?”

“How dramatic you are,” Freddie chided.

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