Lady Charlotte tapped her chin with her fan. “Why does your papa like Lord Bernard? I forget.”
Anya hid her smirk behind her own fan before replying. “He doesn’t. Papa says he’s a stuffed sausage. Then Mama reminds him about the title and his money, and Papa retreats behind his paper again.”
Lady Margaret, Charlotte’s mother, fluttered her own fan. “But does she not know? Lord Bernard’s pockets are completely to let. He’s lost his entire fortune at the gaming tables.”
Anya’s jaw dropped. “No!”
Lady Margaret looked smug. “Oh indeed, Lord Michael Dunleavy won Stoneleigh Manor from him two nights ago. If he doesn’t find another source of funds,” she looked meaningfully at Anya, “He’ll have to leave the country.”
Anya groaned (in a quiet, ladylike way). “Oh what a mess. Mama will never believe me.”
Lady Margaret, who was far more fun as a mother than Anya’s, winked. “She’ll believe me, my dear. I might just find a moment to drop a hint in her ear this evening.”
She swept off, and Charlotte looped her arm through Anya’s. “I told you Mama would take care of it. Now what are your thoughts on Lord Michael, now that he owns Stoneleigh?”
The DNA of Stories 