Chapter 1
Honoria
1816
An army of bosoms with budding promise, the Busty Bodice Club marched toward their first mission.
“Do you remember the plan, Celeste?” Honoria asked for the thirteenth time this morning.
Her sister’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Of course. I have the decoy right here.” Just as she waved the small pack in the air, a small wind picked up to make it flutter.
“Don’t lose it!” Honoria’s heart bounced into her throat while her toes curled in her slippers.
“I won’t. This is…precious.” Honoria watched as Celeste pressed it to her heart, then brought it up to her lips and kissed it softly. All the while, Honoria’s cheeks heated as she recalled painting the miniature. It had been the first of its kind that she had tried, and—whew! her face was hot—she had done her best.
“Georgiana, you have Plan B, right?”
“Right here,” she patted her pocket with a wink, “safe and sound.”
The army of eight sisters had reached the front step of the large Mayfair manor and stopped, waiting for Honoria’s signal. “Then we’re ready. Let’s do this.” Drawing up courage from all her sisters as well as the blistering sunshine in her own soul, Honoria raised her fist to the door and knocked. This was her moment. Nothing was going to stop her.
It was now or never. The gallery she needed had an opening for a few short weeks, and she needed Dermont to take her request seriously the first time she made it. She couldn’t fail. There wouldn’t be a second chance at this. Her father’s letter had clearly stated that she must accomplish her task within eight weeks of receiving it.
“No matter how grumpy he is, he’s not going to say no. You’re his friend,” Imogen beamed her ever optimistic grin at Honoria, lending her additional confidence. Yes, the words helped. Also—Honoria rubbed her valise—she had her own plan to ensure that he took her seriously.
“This is all going to work out,” Rosamund quietly reassured her with a soft squeeze on her shoulder while they waited for the door to open. “Imagine the freedom you’ll feel having accomplished this.”
Being the eldest of all eight of them, this was as much an action of inspiration as it was a challenge for Honoria. She wanted to show her sisters that achieving their father’s dying wish was not only possible, but also life-giving.
Finally, the door swung open and the familiarly taut-lipped butler greeted her. “Lady Honoria and company,” she gestured to her seven sisters behind her, “to see Lady Phoebe,” she announced, stepping forward, and the busty bodiced sisters made their way to the parlor.
Several moments later, Phoebe entered the room with large rings under her eyes and a pale face. It looked as though she had changed quickly to greet her guests because a few smudges remained on the insides of her wrists.
Greetings made, tea ordered, the ladies sat in a comfortable companionship for several minutes, as comfortable as could be for Honoria knowing what was about to happen.
As nerves threatened to dance a reel right in front of everyone, Georgiana nudged Honoria, quietly raising her brows in question.
“It’s time,” Honoria reassured the twin.
Just then, Celeste let the miniature float to the table. “Oh my…” she whispered with an exceptionally loud voice.
“What’s that?” Phoebe fingered the edges of the painting and caught her breath. “Oh my, indeed!” And Honoria wasn’t sure what she expected, but the scrunched up face in slight horror wasn’t quite it. “Is that…my brother in the altogether?”
Honoria’s body went up in flames. “What? N-no, that’s not D-Dermont.” she stammered, feeling all kinds of discombobulated. “Th-that’s—” and she had to cut herself off before she gave herself away.
“I don’t know who that is, but his muscles and his…um…magnificence speak for themselves,” Josephine purred, redirecting attention to the miniature.
“I can’t look at him when he resembles Dermont so much,” Phoebe averted her gaze. And that’s when Honoria made intense eye contact with each of her sisters. Pleading.
Urgently, she then bumped Georgiana and hissed, “Plan B. Plan B.”
Without delay, Georgiana dipped her fingers into her pocket and screamed at the top of her lungs.
In a very unladylike fashion, Phoebe followed suit and screeched at the sight. “Ah! A mouse!”
Tea cups clattered to the flour. “Yowweeee!” Echoing their hostess, Josephine and Penelope both yelped, hopefully not in real pain, crying out about hot liquid on their skin. Eurgenia dropped to her knees to pick up the pieces of one of the tea cups and mentioned something about bleeding.
A grin curled up Honoria’s lips at the acting, but she didn’t have time to pause in amusement at the chaos unfolding. Her sisters were here, and she needed to trust them to handle this.