
They truly were intelligent. If they had not admitted to themselves why they had come, they had to now. Had they been less intelligent, they might have taken umbrage. But even words they had said themselves before had the desired effect coming from someone else. Of course, that carried its own embarrassment. It was a proper muddle, and they were a study in crimson cheeks and unspoken wishes to be somewhere else.
"Well, of course," Daise said. Planting stout fists on ample hips, she stared at the other Wisdoms, daring them to gainsay her. "I’ve said as much, haven’t I? The girl talks sense. I said as much when she first came here. That girl has a head on her, I said."
Edelle sniffed. "Did anyone say she didn’t, Daise? I didn’t hear it. She does very well." To Faile she added, "You do very well, indeed."
Milla bobbed a curtsy. "Thank you, Lady Faile. I know I’ve said the same to fifty people, but coming from you, somehow it —" A loud harrumph from Daise cut her short; that was going too far. Milla grew redder in the face.
"This is very nice work, my Lady." Elwinn leaned forward to finger the narrow, divided riding skirt that Faile favored. "There’s a Taraboner seamstress down in Deven Ride who could do even better for you, though. If you don’t mind my saying. I had a word with her, and she only makes decent dresses now, except for married women." That motherly smile came onto her face again, indulgent and iron at the same time. "Or if they’re courting. Beautiful things, she makes. Why, she might count it a pleasure to work with your coloring and figure."
