Amanda Scott (17 page)

“No, madam, certainly not.”

But she could see from the look in his eyes that he meant to do precisely that, and she could not be much surprised. If he did not look upon her as the mistress of the house, how could she blame him, when she was not certain herself that she was any such thing?

“If you wish, madam,” he said, “I shall engage to bring the matter to his lordship’s attention when next we speak.”

“When will that be?”

“Today or, failing that, tomorrow, certainly.”

“But Mai—That is, I was given to understand that you had ordered Jane to depart immediately, today.”

“Yes, madam, that is correct.”

“Then you must speak to Lord Michael at once, Bagshaw.”

“His lordship is very busy, madam, and the young person in question is not likely to leave the area, since she has no means by which to do so. In the unlikely event that his lordship should choose to overrule my decision, she can be invited to return.”

His obvious certainty that no such likelihood existed both irritated Anne and, at the same time, nearly extinguished her waning hopes, but she strove to sound both self-possessed and firm when she said, “I will speak to Lord Michael myself.” She wished now that she had done so at the outset, before the butler had reminded that her position at Upminster was ambiguous at best. Giving herself a mental shake to revive waning resolution, she said, “I believe he is still in the house, is he not?”

“His lordship is in the library,” Bagshaw said, adding stiffly, “If you insist, madam, I can submit the matter to his judgment at once, though he will certainly think it odd to have such a petty matter of household management forced upon his notice without proper warning. In any event, you need not accompany me. Had I realized the young person was so important to your ladyship, I would have conferred with his lordship from the outset.”

His clear assumption that he could dismiss her so easily was the final straw. Anne gritted her teeth, drew a steadying breath, and said, “You may accompany
me
if you wish, but it is I who will speak to Lord Michael.” Turning, she walked briskly away, determined to confront Michael before her courage failed her.

In the front hall, the porter sprang to open the library door for her, but when Lord Michael looked up in annoyance at the interruption, Anne knew that her timing could have been better. Aware of the butler’s solid presence behind her, and the air of undiminished dignity radiating from him, she collected her scattered wits and said, “Forgive me for disturbing you, sir, but the matter is an urgent one.”

With obvious reluctance, he rose to his feet behind the large library table. “Indeed, my dear, I believe that it must be. I am exceedingly busy, as you can see.” He gestured toward what looked like a pile of accounts on the table before him, but his gaze had shifted to the butler. “What do
you
want, Bagshaw?”

Quickly, Anne said, “He means to discharge poor Jane Hinkle without a character, sir, although I have told him I do not want him to do any such thing.” Striving to appear calm, she sat down in the chair nearest the library table as she spoke.

Michael remained standing, his gaze still fixed on the butler. “I assume that you have a good reason for your decision, Bagshaw.”

“Indeed, I do, my lord. The girl behaved in an inexcusable fashion. She must leave at once.”

“I see,” Michael said, adding as he turned to Anne, “One of Bagshaw’s less agreeable duties is to make such decisions, my dear. For us constantly to be second-guessing them would be most unfair.”

Exerting iron control over a nearly irresistible urge to stomp her feet, even to throw something, Anne ignored the fire in her cheeks and the fury in her mind and, wishing now that she had not sat down, said with rigid calm, “He agreed to submit the matter to your judgment, and since he refuses to tell me why he dismissed Jane—and seems determined not to provide her with a character reference, which he ought in all fairness to give her under any circumstance when she has served us so well these past weeks—”

“To be truthful,” Michael interjected apologetically, “I am not perfectly certain which one—”

“The prettiest housemaid,” Anne said, fighting for patience, “the slender one with hair the color of guinea coins, and enormous blue eyes. Surely, you must—”

“Oh, yes, I know the one.” Michael looked again at Bagshaw. “I must say, she seems quite competent. Perhaps in view of that, and Lady Michael’s preference, some other course of action …” He paused suggestively.

“I could not recommend any other course, my lord. I assure you, her behavior does not warrant clemency.”

“She returned last evening half an hour after the maids’ curfew,” Anne said flatly. “Surely, to discharge her for such a small offense—” She broke off when Michael’s gaze shifted, and turning quickly, she saw Bagshaw shaking his head. Squaring her shoulders, she said with an uncharacteristic edge to her voice, “My lord, if there is more to tell—as he is so clearly indicating to you, if not to me—pray, ask him to explain the whole.”

Michael said, “Indeed, Bagshaw, I confess I am curious to know the reason now, myself.”

“Certainly, my lord, but since the tale is not one to relate in the presence of her ladyship, perhaps we might speak privately.”

Having no doubt that Michael would send her away, Anne said grimly, “I hope you do not mean to ask me to leave the room, sir, because I care a great deal about what becomes of Jane. If she is to be sent away with no recourse other than to seek shelter where she can find it, without benefit of a proper reference, then I am determined to know the reason. I am neither a child nor an idiot, and though I do not want to oppose your authority, I do intend to get to the bottom of this one way or another. Surely it would be better to hear it from Bagshaw, who at least professes to be concerned for my sensibilities, than from one of the servants.”

To her surprise, Michael said, “Her ladyship makes a perfectly valid case, Bagshaw. Perhaps you had better tell us both.”

The quiet command disconcerted the butler, who said in obvious wonder, “But, my lord, truly, the subject is not one for delicate ears. Perhaps when I tell you the girl admitted visiting Mrs. Flowers in the village, you will understand my extreme reluctance to explain the whole in her ladyship’s presence.”

“Mrs. Flowers, eh?”

“Indeed, my lord. An entire evening, and one during which the wench apparently lost all track of time.”

“I see.”

“Well, I do not,” Anne said. “Who is Mrs. Flowers? I do not think I have met her.”

Lord Michael’s mouth twisted wryly, and he exchanged another look with the butler before saying, “She is, as Hermione might say, no better than she should be. Her past, my dear, is a rather lurid one, and I am thankful to know that you do not number her amongst your acquaintances in the village.”

“I see,” Anne said thoughtfully.

With undisguised relief, Michael said, “Then you will agree that Bagshaw knows his business best.”

Instead of yielding, as he so clearly expected, Anne said firmly, “You may leave us now, Bagshaw, but see that you do nothing more about Jane Hinkle until further notice.”

“My lord,” Bagshaw protested, “surely you will not allow this … this—”

“This what?” Lord Michael prompted, his tone gentle but carrying a sudden, unmistakable note of danger.

Bagshaw recovered his composure at once. “I beg your pardon, your lordship. There was no intended criticism, I assure you.” He bowed to Anne, adding, “Your ladyship, I must beg your pardon, too, if I have overstepped my place out of concern for your ladyship’s sensibilities. I hope you will forgive me.”

Anne was watching her husband. She had made her stand, and he seemed willing for the moment at least to support her authority to do so, but she was not feeling gracious enough to forgive the butler. Moreover, she did not dare say another word—not yet. The next move was Lord Michael’s.

His gaze was fixed steadily on her now, but he said quietly, “I will ring when I want you again, Bagshaw.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Scarcely daring to breathe, Anne stared at a point beyond Lord Michael’s head until she heard the library door close behind the butler. Even then she hesitated to look at her husband, and a tense silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of a log shifting in the low-burning fire on the hearth. She counted to ten, trying to recover her temper, knowing she had to proceed cautiously if she were not still to bring all to ruin. She would gain nothing for Jane, or herself, by arousing Michael’s anger.

When she finally looked at him, she saw to her amazement that he was regarding her with wry amusement. Moving to the front of the library table, and leaning against it, he said, “You are very assertive today, my dear. Where have you hidden the dependable Lady Serenity with whom we have all become so pleasantly familiar?”

Without a thought, she leaned forward in her chair and said bluntly, “Am I mistress in this house, sir, or not?”

Eyeing her more warily now, he said, “In as much as I am master here for the present, you are certainly mistress.”

“Then Jane stays,” Anne said flatly.

He shook his head. “No, Jane does not stay. I am afraid you do not perfectly understand the whole, but Bagshaw is quite right, and one should never keep an immoral servant.”

“Immoral? Jane Hinkle? Nonsense.” Anne stood up, unable to bear sitting a moment longer. “I would wager my own reputation on the fact that Jane is a good girl, sir, with excellent morals.”

“Anne, really, you are beyond your depth here, for there are things you simply don’t understand. Believe me, you would do much better to let Bagshaw and Mrs. Burdekin deal with the servants.”

“Not one minute ago you agreed that I am mistress of this household,” she reminded him.

“Yes, but—”

“I have been well trained to manage a large household, my lord,
and
its servants. One’s first duty in domestic management is not only to keep a close eye on things in order to be certain the servants carry out their duties, but also to promote their welfare. To turn Jane off without a character is patently unfair, particularly when the poor creature has nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to. Merely for having been a little late and having had the poor judgment to visit a woman with a sullied reputation, she is to be tossed away like useless trash, condemned to a fate much worse than that of Mrs. Flowers.”

“Look here, my girl, Mrs. Flowers’s reputation is more than a trifle sullied. If you
must
know details, the woman is no more than a common trollop. That Jane apparently knows her and chooses to visit speaks a great deal about Jane’s own morals, I’m afraid.”

“Good gracious,” Anne said, shocked, “that cannot be true. What on earth would such a woman be doing in our village?”

“She has a house there, actually, and poses as a widow,” Michael said as one goaded. “Folks accept the pose only because she claims the favor of … of a prominent man in the district.”

“She was your mistress, in fact,” Anne snapped incautiously, unable to ignore the horror rising inside her.

“No
, not mine,” he retorted, straightening to his full height.

“I heard you hesitate over the identity of her patron, sir, and since the only other prominent man hereabouts whom I can call to mind just now is Sir Jacob Thornton, an elected Member of Parliament, who is also married and has numerous children—”

“Thank you very much,”
Michael said grimly. “I would remind you that I, too, am married and, though they are admittedly not my own, I am responsible for two children—for all the difference either factor makes to the particular topic at hand.”

“But I meant … that is, I thought you must have known her before we were married,” Anne said, adding hastily when she saw that her explanation only made him angrier, “It must be Sir Jacob, of course. I can readily believe it, and I do see what you mean about it’s not mattering—marriage, that is, or … or children. How foolish you must think me not to have understood at once, particularly since he—But that is not the point,” she added quickly before he could agree that she had been foolish or demand to know what she had nearly said about Sir Jacob. “Even if Jane was so misguided as to visit the woman, that is no proof that their morals are similar. Jane may have had quite a good reason, you know. No one has even asked her, I’ll wager. And in any case, I shall explain to her that she must not go there again.”

“And she will simply obey you.” His tone was sardonic, his disbelief unmistakable. “Even if that were true, a female with loose morals—or even one with poor judgment, for that matter—is quite likely to do other unacceptable things.”

“When servants know their employer has a compassionate and generous regard for their comfort and well-being, sir, I believe they try to show their gratitude in every way they can. I also believe that protecting and encouraging virtue is the best preventive against vice. Bagshaw would do more to improve morality in this house by rebuking the footmen when they press the maids for favors or pinch their bottoms than he will by turning Jane off for having made an unfortunate mistake.”

“I am afraid it is the nature of men, especially footmen, to do such things,” Michael said with a sigh. “It is only when the maids let things go too far that unpleasant consequences result, which is precisely why Bagshaw is right to want to get rid of a young woman with questionable morals.”

“Do you pinch their bottoms?” Anne asked curiously.

A mixture of emotions crossed his face, and she was glad to note a trace of amusement among them. Ruefully, he said, “I was known to do such things in the past, but I have a distinct feeling that I would be wise just now to promise never to do them again.”

“Yes, sir, you would.”

He held out a hand to her, and said coaxingly, “Come, Anne, calm yourself, sit down again, and let us discuss this in a more friendly fashion. I miss your serenity, my dear. It is a quality generally rare in this household, and I value it highly.”

She nearly put her hand in his, but caught herself before she did, saying quietly, “First I must know where I stand. Assuring me that I am mistress here is perfectly absurd if you mean constantly to support the servants against me.”