& Moira Bianchi: anthropometry
Mostrando postagens com marcador anthropometry. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador anthropometry. Mostrar todas as postagens

quinta-feira, 17 de outubro de 2019

A Victorian Romance - All those Dukes - chapter 2

Hello!
The lovely Victorian Romance, ALL THOSE DUKES, is already available and I'm posting the first two chapters here!
enjoy!

First we met Duck, the Marquess and his father, the Duke. Also a longtime thorn in his side, the difference in their appearance.
Soon after they meet - and we get to witness - a lively family of a tradesman called Johnson who has a pretty niece. Jessica Ellen is a widow dedicated to anthropometry.
Nothing much comes from their first meeting aside from a casual interest and an amusing coincidence in their lack of interest in marriage...
Now, as we dive into the story, the plot gets more serious...


Well, no. There's no Duke Ellington here. 
The Duke of Wellington is mentioned, but we do have many Dukes in this novel...

let's get to the 2nd chapter:


ALL THOSE DUKES
a Victorian men novella
read chapter 1
chapter 2
1

Unfortunately, instead of turning dark in features to look more like the father Duck adored, as he so wanted, what came was the day he met a hurtful truth: a tall, fair, handsome distant cousin had spent a long visit at their estate, Storm Grove Hall, in 1824, the year before his birth.

And what made matters worse was the occasion of discovering such a thing: the passing of his adored father, the Duke of Somerchester.
Unstoppable coughs, ever so durable tiredness, ineffective bleedings, useless cordials, all that the best surgeons in London could offer the Duke only provided the Marquess one week with his infirm father. Should he had been better advised, he would have left Spain earlier to spend the last year at home, he could have done more, taken his father abroad where the weather was warmer, so many possibilities hurting his heart that was already bruised with the regret of never inviting the Duke to Madrid because of the frown -  lips’ pursing - eye averting – exaggerated compliment ritual

Now it seemed irrelevant.

His father was dead, he was the new Duke and finally could face the ugly truth of his paternity.

For that, he even had started to devise a plan…

---

At the other side of town, in a comfortable townhouse, Frederica read the paper while Johnson and Ellen tried their luck with a giant jigsaw puzzle at the table by the window.

As they discussed where did a particular part of the coast of Cornwall fit, Frederica gasped loud. Stood. Cried. ‘Good Gracious!’

‘What?’ Johnson looked at his sister over his lenses that rested on the tip of his nose.

‘The Duke, such an elegant little man, could be one of my figurines over the mantle, so well attired and polite, wise too… With that beast of a Greek god of a son, bless that lad.’

‘Somerchester?’

‘Yes, Somerchester, we just met the man the other day.’

‘Eight days.’ Ellen mumbled. How could she forget? The day she had arrived in London after spending most of her life in India and France, and on arriving, was exposed to a huge shaming.

‘Dead.’

‘What?’

‘Dead, the little elegant rich Duke. Dead.’ Frederica turned the newspaper.’

‘Let me see that.’ Johnson crossed the room bumping his shin on a chair and a side table, took the paper from his sister’s hand and almost glued it to his nose.

‘What killed the Duke, aunt?’ Ellen whispered. ‘Poor man, he seemed fragile, didn’t he?’

‘He was sickened for a while, always had been if you ask me. He was a weakling.’

‘Don’t speak nonsense, Freddy.’

‘He was, brother, and you know it!’ She stomped. ‘He was our customer, bought tea and opium sometimes.’ Rushed voice. ‘But comparing to the rest of his family, he was the smaller of them all, short and dark. You saw the son, tall and strong.’

‘The duchess was a beauty, then? Have you met her?’

‘She was a handsome lady, yes. But the lad, the Marquess, he has the family blood. The weak blood from the father didn’t pass on to him.’

‘That does not make sense, aunt.’ Ellen shook her head. ‘It is the father who produces the son.’

‘With the blood from the grandfather.’ Frederica shook a finger in the air. ‘I may not have a diploma as you do, smart girl, but I do know the dealings of nature. I have watched the chickens that feed us, I observe the neighbors breed. Nature has not blessed me with children because it has given me sagacity.’

‘Amen!’

‘You jest.’

‘I do not!’

‘Here.’ Frederica moved to the mantle and chose three china figurines, delicate ladies in ball dresses. ‘The lady in white is grandfather, the lady in blue is the father and the lady in pink is the son.’ She arranged the three on the table over the half-assembled puzzle.

‘I see.’

‘The grandfather is a big man but during his life he spends his health in games and houses of ill repute.’

‘You know that of the former Duke.’

‘I suppose.’ Frederica shrugged. ‘Let us make suppositions.’

‘Fine.’

‘So, the grandfather seems strong but his blood is tainted. He passes it to his son, the father.’

Ellen shook her head. Son becomes the father… Oh, dear.

‘During his lifetime, the son is a weakling, for that he has a clean bill guided by good surgeons allowing the family excellent blood to gain strength, returning to the previous form.’ At that, she returned to the mantle and selected several other figurines to arrange behind the white lady. ‘These are the ancestral, all good blooded.’ She nodded, Ellen nodded back. ‘So, when this one, the father produces an heir, the child is blessed with the family blood.’

‘Good blood restored.’

‘Exactly!’

‘Ah, I see…’

‘Careful with these theories using the Nobledons, Freddy.’ Johnson mumbled. ‘The Dukedom of Somerchester is rich and powerful, a good client of ours.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m heading down to the office at the warehouse, surely there is something I can send for the lad. A card, perhaps.’ A moment of silent was spent in honor of the dead Duke. ‘You should come with me, Freddy, to help with etiquette and all.’

A quarter of an hour after her uncles left, the doorbell rang announcing morning visitors. Ellen should only expected callers in the afternoon since she had no close acquaintances in town, but didn’t think it odd at first, her aunt usually stayed at home in the mornings.

Even so, when the housekeeper delivered the expensive card, she was intrigued. ‘Am I well dressed, you think, Mrs. Warner?’

‘A bit Frenchy, dear.’ The housekeeper twisted her nose. ‘This fashion is… modern.’ She said as if it were something pejorative.

‘This has to be god enough until the new dresses I ordered with aunt Freddy arrive from the mantua maker.’ Ellen smoothed her skirts, inspected her face and hair on the mirror between the windows. ‘Show the Marquess in, he is too important to wait in our hallway.’

‘I will send your man servant as well. Better take care.’

Ellen could complain or say it wouldn’t be necessary, but she didn’t know what the grieving nobleman could possibly want.

‘Mrs. Dearstring.’ Duck said at the door. ‘Thank you for agreeing on seeing me without previous arrangement.’

‘Milord.’ Ellen curtseyed. ‘Allow me to pay my respects. We just read in the paper about your father, the Duke. I am horribly sorry.’ Her eyes met his, both of them could see they shared the same sentiments. ‘Barely two years since my father passed, it still feels like it was yesterday.’

‘I appreciate your words.’ He nodded with his hat and cane between his hands. ‘The last few hours have been absolutely…’

‘Heart-wrenching.’

He nodded again.

‘My uncle has left.’ She said. ‘He took my aunt to the office, to take care of pleasantries for you, actually.’

‘I know, I had someone waiting outside. I wanted to speak to you alone without calling much attention.’ 

‘Milord?’

‘May I?’ He pointed the sofa.

‘Please!’ Ellen hurriedly collected cushions to open space for the big man and sat on an opposed armchair holding them all to her chest.

‘I have come to hire your science, Mrs. Dearstring.’ Duck said. ‘Forgive me for being blunt, but my bearings are lost these last hours. My mind is filled with worries.’

‘The remembrance is vivid, rest assured I understand you perfectly.’ She waved without taking her eyes from him. ‘How can my science help you, milord? I mean, your grace.’

Duck twisted to where she waved and saw a dark skinned man, face of one who has very few friends in the world. ‘That man… He was at the restaurant when we met last week.’

‘Was he?’

‘I am sure.’ Duck turned completely to the door. ‘Please, sir, what is your name? What do you do for a living?’

‘He is called Jai, your grace, Jai Agarwal.’ Ellen answered. ‘He is my friend, works for me, with me actually. My father raised and trained him as a skilled secretary and when he passed, we were both orphaned.’

‘Your man servant follows you, is that so?’

‘He is my friend, a brother; my father’s friend.’

‘Your late husband used his services as well.’

Ellen glanced at Jai who had one of worst frowns one could get and back at the Marquess – or new Duke. She nodded. ‘How can I help you in this hour of need, your grace?’

‘Can we be left alone?’ He asked. ‘Send him away.’

‘Jai holds my total confidence.’

‘Not mine.’

‘Your grace, you came to me with some sort of request on the day of the Duke’s passing-’ She widened her eyes. ‘Something secretive, you want my scientific opinion on?...’

Duck tilted his head towards the door.

‘Jai, please give us a moment. Could you close the door and make sure no one bother us?’ To Duck, she half smiled. ‘Can I offer you tea or-’

‘No, nothing.’

‘Please, Jai?’

The man answered something Duck didn’t understand, Ellen nodded, they heard the door close and she nodded to him. 

‘No one will bother us. Jai will post guard at the door.’ 

‘Mrs. Dearstring, since the night we met at The Golden Plate, I have been thinking about you. Something you said struck me.’

Oh, no… Good thing her uncles had left or she might hear the m most charming hoarse voice expose her… So handsome…

‘Your science deals with genealogy, you said.’

‘I did say that, yes.’ She agreed with relief.

‘I need you to investigate me.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Your uncle said that you can measure people to determine genealogy.’ He extended and twisted his arms. ‘I have a suspicion of a cousin of my father who will be coming for the funeral, therefore you shall have the opportunity to find clues and guess as you please.’

‘Just one moment, your grace.’ Ellen showed him both palms. ‘I do not play a guessing game; neither do I search pieces to make them fit as jigsaw puzzle.’ She pointed the table where she had been playing with her uncle. ‘Anthropometry is a serious science, we research morphological characteristics of the human body, anthropometric measurements to identify individuals.’

‘Are you saying you answer my needs?’

‘Tell if the cousin is indeed part of your family.’

‘That is irrelevant. I am interested in my own genealogy.’

Ellen paused for a moment. ‘Identify your real genitor?’

‘Yes.’

Merde!’ Ellen swore in French. ‘This is insane, your grace.’

‘This doubt taints my being, Mrs. Dearstring!’ Duck stood to hold the mantle and hang his head. ‘I need to be sure that the most perfect man who lays motionless in his death bed was my real father. There couldn’t be a biggest honor in this nation, and I feel inappropriate to take his title.’

‘Resist the grief, your grace. It’s the pain talking.’

Duck turned from the mantle with such a stare that spooked Ellen. ‘You don’t know me, you cannot know.’

‘I have experienced terrible losses, I know.’ She whispered.

‘Devil take me!’ He groaned. ‘You are unable to work on such matter.’ A strong feeling of despair took him over and he could only hold in a tremor. ‘How much do I owe you for this inconvenience and your silence?’

‘I didn’t say such a thing.’ She shook her head. ‘But to determine what you ask through anthropometry; there are steps to be taken. First, I would need to… measure the Duke. That is a disgraceful thing to -’

‘Can it be done?’

‘Sure. That is how we study, in fact. Measuring cadavers.’ She finished in a whisper.

‘You are strong willed enough to do it on your own, then.’

‘I count on the assistance of Jai.’ She pointed at the door. ‘My friend who you just met and distrusted.’

‘If you vouchsafe his discretion, as I believe yours is to be gained, I can arrange opportunity for you to take these measurements tonight.’

Ellen was silent.

‘By then I shall have a contract for us to sign in the presence of my valet and your man, they should provide witness enough. You will not be able to make public any results acquired with this, even if in the end you think the payment I offer is not enough.’ Duck said. ‘I offer three thousand pounds; we can make further agreements later tonight. Will 9 in the evening be convenient?’

She could only nod and watch in astonishment as the handsome man nodded back and left without another word.

That much money for such a task!

A fortune one takes a lifetime to amass… It meant freedom, independence, means to dedicate to science, further specialization, funding for university studies!

How would she justify her absence to her uncle and aunt?

And how to conduct such an investigation without supervision of a professor?

How exciting!...

---


more details & links about this book here

sexta-feira, 11 de outubro de 2019

A Victorian Romance - All those Dukes - chapter 1

Hello!
My new book, ALL THOSE DUKES, a Victorian Romance about trust & secrets is already available!

yay!
I'm very excited about it because the story is so very interesting, full of lovely moments, a few steamy scenes and lots of plot twists. Also, it gives me the jitters because it's been a while since I last (self) published in English.

I am planning a series of novellas, one for a type of gentleman of the Victorian era. First is the Duke - several in this novel, actually. Quite a lovely nobility title, almost a Prince, very popular nowadays.

Well, mine is not inspired on the Duke of Sussex nor the Duke of Cambridge, but also very charming. Shall we get to know Duck?

here it is:


ALL THOSE DUKES
a Victorian men novella
chapter 1
One night…
The Nobledon family had a long line of nobility and honor. 

With a lineage of great men that lasted for centuries, the Nobledons had been war heroes always fighting for what cause was believed to be crucial for Great Britain. Crucial also for the family’s fortune as titles piled until one of those brave men who defended the great Queen Anne was made Duke of Somerchester in the early 1700s. From the time when nobility risked their necks at the war field to modern 1855 when they battled in politics, the bloodline came to Duck Nobledon, current Marquess of Somerchester, son of Reginald Francis Nobledon, the Duke.  

Duck was not his Christian name, certainly. Francis Edgard, the Nobledon heir, had been such a way nicknamed by an old nanny for his tone of voice, very particular indeed, not in the least inherited from any of his ancestors – especially his father. In appearance, from tender age the Marquess was also very different from the short dark Duke, no matter how much he tried to copy his father’s elegance or wiseness. To no one in the family but him it seemed odd that he was a tall and fair lad. 

‘One day you’ll grow dark.’ His mother said. ‘You have a Duke’s blood in you.’

‘One day your beard will darken your cheeks, your lordship.’ His first valet advised.

That day never came. Instead, as his years advanced, he became fairer, taller and stronger. His voice went lower and huskier, very different from the clear sing-song gentlemanly tone of his elegant father. At first, ‘duck’ was an endearment the Marquess disliked and then, as it caught, he embraced the sweet joke because the lightheartedness made it easier to hide the suspicion tainting his heart.

As an open wound poked time and time again, very upsetting was the reaction of strangers when facing father and son together. There was a sequence of frown - lips’ pursing - eye averting and finally, due to the consequence of the Dukedom, the inevitable ‘Congratulations, your grace, on the outstanding lineage. Quite a gorgeous heir!’ 

Duck always heard the compliment as a criticism on his father’s physical attributes.  That was one of the reasons why he had accepted the far post as Her Majesty’s extraordinary and plenipotentiary envoy to Spain.

After a prolonged stay in the continent, in the evening of his arrival back home, the scrutiny of strangers was the situation he encountered at The Golden Plate, the finest restaurant in Mayfair. He’d rather dine at the gentlemen’s club where everyone knew them, but his father, proud of his worldly countenance, suggested something more extravagant. Unfortunately, the meal was shortened to 4 dishes as the Duke’s health didn’t allow more. 
getty

‘I am sorry, my boy. Your mamma would never forgive me for preventing you from having the veal you so like.’

Duck chuckled. ‘She left this Earth five years ago, no complaint will come from her; and it is of no importance, father. I am sure you commissioned the veal and the other remaining courses. Surely a feast will be waiting for us at home.’

The Duke raised his shoulders as they waited for their coach at the highly lit lobby; his most perfect son had predicted his actions. A bout of coughing would ruin his attitude, so he did his best to swallow the throat discomfort. 

‘Your grace?’

They both turned when someone called.

‘Shsh, uncle! Don’t embarrass us!’ A hushed reprimand.

‘Brother, don’t bother his grace…’ An older female voice.

‘Please, your grace.’ The white haired, round bellied, smiley man insisted. ‘Hannibal Johnson, DS Tea & Silk Imports Company.’

‘Of course, of course. How do you do, sir?’ The Duke forced a smile as the man bowed and the women lowered in a curtsey.

‘What a formidable surprise to find your grace here, I say! Most rarely seen outside these days.’ Johnson seemed very pleased in having the distinguished connection. ‘I am very well indeed, your grace. May I ask of your tiredness?’

‘Oh, you know…’ The Duke chanced a fast glance at Duck and found him frowning. ‘Better. Now I have my son with me, his company sure gives me great fortitude.’

‘Such excellent company, indeed!’ Johnson turned to the tall young man. ‘My lord Marquess.’ Another bow.

‘Good evening, Mr. Johnson’, Duck answered hoping his footman would arrive as if magic to announce their coach was ready and he could avoid the frown -  lips’ pursing - eye averting – exaggerated compliment, but, alas… The man and his two companions, an old funny looking woman of the same years as him and the young pretty girl, the three of them were obviously engaged on the aggravating comparing ritual.

‘Your grace was never short of words describing the many accomplishments of milord Marquess, only failed to mention his handsomeness.’

‘Brother!’ The older woman hissed.

The Duke chuckled. ‘Do not fret, madam, I am indeed used to Johnson’s enthusiasm.’ A cough and a sigh. ‘My son has just returned from the continent; we were celebrating our reunion.’ An elegant hand gesture indicated the big stairs that conducted patrons to the salon.

‘We have come for the same reason, a formidable coincidence! My niece arrived from Paris this very afternoon; it has been years since she was last in London with us.’ The white haired man smiled fondly at the young girl. ‘Isn’t she a beauty, your grace? My late sister’s eyes, the brains of a genius!’

‘A scientist, your grace!’ The older woman gushed. ‘So young and handsome, dedicated to science!’

‘Do make formal introductions, Johnson. England is in dear need of geniuses these days.’ The Duke blinked tired eyes.

‘Milord, I believe you remember my sister from the import offices, she helps with the shipments, Frederica James, widow of J. James solicitor.’ Johnson said with pomp. ‘And here is my sweet niece, Jessica Ellen Dearstring, fruit of the union of our much missed sister with my good friend and partner in business.’

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Dearstring.’ The Duke bowed his head ever so slightly. 

So did Duck. ‘Miss.’

‘Mrs., milords.’ Ellen smiled shyly returning from a curtsey. ‘As my aunt, I am a widow.’ As she said it, a deep blush took over her cheeks because all eyes were directed to her instantly. Not only the Duke’s and Marquess’ who had been half-heartedly interested in her but also her aunt’s and her uncle’s.

Ellen had indeed caught the noble man’s attention. ‘I do remember Dearstring, Johnson, don’t I? Wasn’t he who sent me excellent tea choices from India?’

‘The same, your grace.’ Johnson shook his head. ‘The best partner and friend one could have. A brilliant mind for business. Strong man he was, brought to his knees by a tiny animal no one gives importance.’ He frowned with anger. ‘One day the surgeons will notice the malice of mosquitoes, I tell you.’

‘And the daughter uses her maiden name after widowing? Or have you married a cousin?’

‘A series of misfortunes, your grace.’ Ellen hurried to answer before her verbose uncle. ‘So many losses, I chose to leave that much grief in Mumbai when I moved to Paris.’

‘I understand, Mrs. Dearstring. I am a widower myself.’

‘My condolences, your grace.’ She curtseyed again.

‘And mine to you.’ He again moved his head, but everyone could see his countenance was each minute more subdued, as if the Duke were a candle about to blow out. ‘You inherited the knack for science from your husband, I suppose.’

‘She has her own mind, your grace, one day milord has to find time to allow her to measure you! What an ingenious little study it is, bones and structures of a person!’

‘No one cares for that in England, only our Jessica Ellen! She is breaking ground.’ Her aunt nodded smiling.

‘Well, anthropometry is not such a revolutionary study.’ She smiled sideways, eyes showing mirth and love for her aunt and uncle’s praises. ‘Leonardo Da Vinci’s Vitruvian man dates from late 15th century.’

‘Isn’t it the technic used to identify criminals?’ Duck had all his attentions on the pretty woman, the widow of young years and delicate manners, scientist of law enforcement.

‘Yes, yes, milord!’ She smiled. ‘Monsieur Bertillon has been having excellent results in forensics!’

‘Do you work with him?’ Duck forced himself not to respond the smile, the subject was extremely odd and he was worried for his father’s health. ‘I am an envoy to Spain; whatever helps us keep justice is useful. Dry borders are not easy to protect.’

‘Oh, no, milord.’ Ellen shook her head, lips locked together. ‘I study genealogy, purely academic sense to the matter.’

‘Ah, I see.’ He nodded.

Eager for the opportunity to impress the men of consequence, Johnson took Ellen’s hand to tuck in the crook of his arm. ‘She used to be a regular at the Sorbonne.’

‘She even has a diploma!’ Frederica announced.

‘Now she needs a husband, I say.’ The uncle patted the young woman’s hand on his arm. ‘Am I right, your grace? A handsome girl, a formidable mind, she must be in need of a man to find purpose. If she only dedicated to the art of choosing a suitor with the same ardor as she cares for science...’

‘Any gentleman would be lucky to spouse Mrs. Dearstring, I am sure.’ The Duke said in a voice that could be called faint if the man wasn’t so polite.

‘Finding oneself a marriage cannot be done in haste, uncle.’ Ellen answered blushing, under her hoop skirts she bounced on her legs out of sheer embarrassment. 

‘Eventually it shall be done.’ The uncle insisted.

A new breath of vitality seemed to reach the Duke as he turned to his son. ‘Have you two met before?’

‘No.’ Duck shook his head.

‘Are you positive?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Have milord cruised with my Jessica Ellen in the continent, your grace, is this what you say?’ Johnson blinked, Ellen frowned.

The Duke had an amused expression on his aged face. ‘Mrs. Dearstring’s words are almost verbatim what I have been hearing since my son reached adulthood.’ A chuckle. ‘I wonder if they arranged this meeting here at The Golden Plate.’

‘Please, father.’ Duck shook his head. ‘Forgive his sense of humor, Mrs. Dearstring.’ It was his time to blush. ‘He makes fun of me for refusing schemes of vile matchmakers interested in our titles.’
Ellen shook her head, but didn’t answer.

‘My son always said to me that he would find a companion when time provided opportunity to weigh all qualities and defects in a perfect lady; being that task arduous, I needed not to expect an announcement soon.’ The Duke tilted his head.

‘My niece is a bit more direct in her words, I guess.’

‘Same message.’

‘Indeed…’

Under the scrutiny of both the Duke and the uncle, Duck and Ellen blushed even more. She wanted to escape, thought about catching her aunt’s eyes to ask for help, but it’d be incredibly rude to abandon a Duke and a Marquess. Luckily they were saved by a footman arriving.

‘Our coach is here, my funny father.’ Duck waved at the door.
‘I bid you good night, Johnson.’

A bow. ‘Farewell, your grace. I shall see to the safe delivery of your shipment later this week.’

‘I thank you.’ With elegance, the Duke moved his head almost imperceptibly. ‘Mrs. James, Mrs. Dearstring.’

‘Your grace.’ Both women curtseyed.

‘Good evening.’ Duck bowed.

Johnson bowed back, the women curtseyed again.

.
‘Frankly, father, was it necessary?’ Duck shook his head as his father chuckled. ‘You practically pushed me towards the widow.’

‘Pretty one, she is. Smart, intelligent, didn’t fall for your handsome features or bass voice… Not one compliment! Kudos to Mrs. Dearstring!’ A cough and a sigh. ‘Ah… To be young enough for widows and debutants…’


selling antiques
‘Old man has had too much wine.’ Duck muttered as their coach rocked on the streets of London from Mayfair to Kensington were their small palace was seated. ‘Pretty eyes, smelled good too. I do admire a perfumed lady.’ Especially if she had a well-proportioned face, quite symmetrical. Pretty nose, bright round eyes, heart shaped mouth. Very pleasing figure too, narrow waist and nice bust. Good height for him. If he were bound to notice.

Another chuckle from the father.

‘But a woman of science? Really?... How odd. Didn’t you think it odd the manner she spoke of marriages?’

‘Yes!’ A cough. ‘Exactly as you do!’ The cough mixed with chuckles did not stop this time.

.
‘Uncle, you are a menace! Worse than the mosquitoes you hate.’ Ellen hissed as they sat around the table at the fancy restaurant. ‘If my dad was here, he would kill you! Exposing me in front of a single man! Were you selling me off? Am I on auction?’

‘If those mosquitoes had left your father alone, you wouldn’t be doing half of your antics, girl.’ Johnson smiled back. ‘Have you met the Marquess before and didn’t tell me?’

‘No!’

‘The Duke is a good client. Tell me the truth.’

‘I am!’

‘How come you two think the same on marriage-’

‘Can you two please behave?’ Frederica held both her niece’s and brother’s hand over the table. ‘I always wanted to visit this fancy restaurant and have oysters, I am going to eat oysters in peace with my two favorite people in the world. Understood?’

‘Yes, aunt.’

‘Yes, Freddy.’


‘Good. Now, tell me of ladies’ hats in Paris, Jessica Ellen.’


more details & links about this book here