<strong>Lady Beatrice</strong><br/><br/>“A boat?“ Beatrice almost paled and took a stiff gulp for intestinal fortitude.<br/><br/>She waved the thought away like swatting flies, several of them.<br/><br/>“Seasick.  Wretched things, boats. Never still for a moment.  Dry land, now dry land is predictable.”<br/><br/>She patted Lily’s hand and laid back unlady like on the lounger and kicked off her pumps. “Give me solid ground any day! I like my transportation dependable and my men….”<br/><br/>She raised her glass and were it more than half full, the swirling liquid would have sloshed over the side.<br/><br/>“A toast Lily.  To wretched boatmen, on tiny …tiny..!” She turned her head around like a top and tried to hold it steadily.<br/><br/>“Did you know deary that Thaddeus, my dear departed Thaddeus was certainly…Thaddeus not certainly on purpose.. But naturally certain… was not tiny… Although the chaps in parliament did call him that for some..some reason. Horrible gossips…the lot of them.”<br/><br/>She gave Lily an unfocused stare, “My hand is in the air my dear, were you going to make a.. make a toast…before it goes..goes numbbbb?”<br/><br/>