gift of the uniforms. The heavy material soaked the sweat from her hands without darkening the fabric.
An older woman with a decidedly pinched set to her lips, who Claire recognized as one of Steadholder Burdette's mothers, joined the screen. She made a short acknowledgement of Michael Mayhew and then skewered Claire with a frigid glare.
“Miss Lecroix,” said the dowager. In Burdette, there had never been any acceptance that a military rank could replace the primacy of miss or madam in a woman's titling, Claire recalled. “Explain to me, if you please, why it is that months have passed since you received the gift of proper uniforms from my daughters-in-law and not a one of them has yet to receive a thank you.” The dowager lady steadholder's pink glossed lips disappeared in a creased line with whitened edges as she glared.
Claire thought of hiding behind the disaster of Blackbird, but in exasperation just told the truth. “I didn't have the funds to have them hemmed let alone send back a letter.”
The dowager lady steadholder's lips made a reappearance, and the other two daughter-in-laws' faces showed at the edges of the screen as well. Apparently the Burdette Lady Steadholders had arrived in mass to hear what Claire had to say.
Tester only knew if anyone had even been sent to tell Steadholder Burdette himself about the call at all. The dowager shut down the babble of questions with one sharp look and patted her divan to have all three of her son's wives join her.
With significantly more concern, the dowager asked, “Has your father passed recently then, dear?”
Claire laughed. “Oh no, Dad passed on when I was nine and Mother didn't recover so well without him. I was raised by my aunts on my mother's side. Anyway, on the Bedlam side we've never had much success with pregnancies, especially for boys. Our head-of-household is my cousin, Noah.” Claire automatically edited to leave out the family predilection for unmarried pregnancies.
The dowager seemed to recognize Claire's meaning without her needing to spell it out.
The dowager asked, “That wouldn't be the Noah Bedlam who created the civil disturbance a few years back by trying to run a watercraft on the aquaculture ponds, would it?”
Claire watched the eye contact between the steadholder ladies as they acknowledged to each other exactly which family the Bedlams were and quite pointedly did not ask who Noah's father was. It would have been on the paperwork for the arrest warrant. “Father: unknown.”
She just closed her eyes.
“There was a wrecked boat involved. I wasn't privy to the details since I was at Saganami Island at the time. I just know that it took ten months for the account with my midshipwoman pay to show a positive balance. After that I learned to ask the bank not to permit overdrafts. There was some sort of fine, I assume?”
“A large one,” the dowager acknowledged. “The pond was contaminated. Apparently he'd tried the boat on an open stream first and the hijinks with the pond-farm was in response to family concerns for his health if he kept trying to boat on our planet's toxic natural waters.” The dowager shrugged. “I just know that my boy said he blamed his mother's nagging when the judge asked him why he did it.”
Claire couldn't help but snort a laugh. “I suppose that was true.” Gripping her skirts to keep her hands from shaking, she tried to refocus the discussion. “Do you think you could arrange for me to speak to Lord Burdette sometime, Ma'am? I'd like to request to be made legally independent. Noah would like me to resign from the Service, you see, and this isn't really the time. I have a service obligation for my schooling.” And there was Blackbird. “And we're likely at war with someone.”
The dowager was shaking her head. “We can't allow that. I'm sorry dear but it would set a horrid precedent.” She shifted her gaze. “Don't give me that look Lord Mayhew. We have two applications for legal independence already from Miss Lucy Bedlam and Miss Mary Bedlam. Their applications say they are working as artisans, but not six weeks ago Miss Mary made a most apologetic confession that they are actually, er—”
“Strippers.” Claire said. “They used to dance at a men's club called Birdies. I couldn't find their bodies.”
The Burdette ladies gaped at her, even the dowager.
Mayhew recovered first patting Claire's knotted fist lightly, “I'm sorry for your loss.”
Claire released the skirts and rubbed one temple. “Yes, I'll especially miss