She looked flushed and happy and in high spirits. "I love to be back in London," she said as she stripped off her York tan riding gloves, the leather incredibly soft. "It's ever so when we first arrive. Everything is fresh and new again. Now, it's your first Season, Meggie, and I am so pleased that Tysen gave you over into our care. What fun we shall have. I've come to tell you that Douglas will be taking you to Madame Jordan's this morning."

"Who is Madame Jordan?"

"Why, she's my dressmaker, has been since Douglas and I married." Alex broke off a moment, a wicked memory breaking into a big smile. "Hmmm, oh yes, between the two of them, you will look like a princess. Trust whatever your uncle says. He has excellent style."

Both her uncles had had excellent style when it came to ladies' clothes, Meggie had been told all her life. Her own father did too, one assumed, since all Sherbrooke males had unconscionable portions of luck and style, but as a vicar, he normally didn't let his style out in full company.

Mary Rose, Meggie's stepmother, and Meggie, in a house full of males, had long ago pulled together and seen to their own shopping, enjoying it immensely. Because they weren't dolts, the four males in the Vicarage household, including Alec and Rory, knew that they were to instantly compliment any new garment, the greater the length of the compliment, the better treatment accorded them. Their father, hardly ever a dolt, roundly endorsed this.

"Now, Douglas wishes to leave as soon as he changes from his riding clothes. He has a meeting with the foreign office this afternoon. I do hope it's not yet another offer of a diplomatic post. The last one was to Rome. It was very hot when we were there. We spent a lot of time with cardinals and bishops, and that meant I was very well covered up."