From Riley Adams Stops Time
The woman gave Wells an appraising look. “What do you do for a living?”
“I manage a bank,” Wells stuttered, quivering a bit under the intense look. Riley had to fight an amused smile.
That seemed to be an acceptable answer because the woman turned from Wells and back to Artemis. “Carrying on, Miss Simpson. Just remember, your cousins have to leave before dinner.”
“Yes ma’am,” Artemis said with a salute.
The older woman sighed. “Miss Simpson, how many times do I have to remind you that we are not in the Army? A proper lady does not salute.”
Artemis looked sheepish. “Oh, right. I’ll, uh, try to remember that.”
“Please do.” With that, the woman stepped back into the parlor.
As Artemis lead Riley and Wells upstairs to the third floor, Riley asked, “What was that about?”
“Oh, that’s just Mrs. Sugar. She runs this house,” Artemis replied. “She’s made it her life’s work to turn us all into proper ladies and apparently I’m still a bit of a work in progress.” She unlocked a door at the end of a hallway and then leaned close to Riley, dropped the Minnesota accent and whispeared, “Little does she know I once danced with Queen Victoria herself. One look at me in a waistcoat and cravat and she was swooning all night.” She flashed that rakish grin again and turned to open the door leaving Riley wondering just how much of that story was true.