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Authors: Joan Smith

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BOOK: Madcap Miss
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I have relatives. I can find someone to chaperon us.


So much trouble is not taken for a governess. People would talk. I should think Lord Whewett is discussed a good deal at Dover.


I live removed from the town. I trust my past behavior hasn

t made me quite a byword.


Ah, the sensitive feelings are bruised again. I wonder if you aren

t part orchid. They fall apart if you look at them.


I can

t just leave you at loose ends, Grace. We must find some suitable place for you. Your Thomas is kind, but living with an invalid in a little apartment

I know! I

ll take you to my Aunt Gertrude in Dover.


Does she require a companion?

Grace asked with interest.


No, she has a husband and family.


If she doesn

t require anyone, why should I go there?


Because it is close to Downsfield

convenient,

he added.


To wait for Mary.

She nodded.

I ought not to  call your sister Mary, but I hear you do so, and have caught the habit. You will find it hard to credit, I once had some notions of propriety.


You behaved like a very proper young lady on the stage to Wickfield. I noticed it particularly. Shall we go? It is a longish drive home.


I

m sorry our holiday is nearly over. I enjoyed it very much. Thank you, Whewett.


Thank you, Miss Farnsworth. I enjoyed it, too.

They continued to enjoy the dregs of it on the return to Willowcrest. As they approached Wickfield, Grace again effected the change to Augusta. She had no sooner got her hair pulled into tails and the ribbons tied on than the carriage rolled into town. The first person seen on the street, with a basket over her arm, was Mrs. Sempleton.

I don

t believe it!

Whewett exclaimed, pointing her out.

Grace ducked her head, while Whewett returned the woman

s wave.

She lives on the street,

he scolded.


She is going to see us together before we get out of this place. Are we past?

Grace asked.


Yes, get up. We should let her see us together. It would make her day, trying to figure it out.


Why should we cavil at a Mrs. Sempleton, indeed, when everyone else has seen us? If we meet her again, I shall wave and tell her you have adopted me.

Whewett smiled.

I wished, when you told her on the stage that girls talk too much, that I could know you better. Did you mean it for a leveler?


Of course I did. You must know a lady never insults anyone accidentally.

They fell silent till they were nearly home, then Grace asked,

Do we tell Grandma we went to the Pump Room and the park, and not mention the Townsends?


That will be best. The connection is on my own side, not Lady Healy

s. There is no reason Mrs. Townsend should be in touch with her,

he said unconcernedly.

How should a widower who took little interest in gossip suspect the curiosity of an arch-quiz, or know to what lengths she would go to ferret out news and cause mischief?

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Over
dinner Lady Healy demanded all the details of their outing. At eight o

clock, she informed a bright-eyed Grace that she looked burned to the socket and must retire early.

The hour till Whewett was sent abovestairs passed pleasantly in memories of her day. As soon as she heard footsteps in his room, she went to the door and tapped before turning the knob. To her surprise, the door was locked.

What is it?

Whewett called, without even approaching the door.

His voice sounded withdrawn, emotionally distant. Grace was aware of a new sense of impropriety in the situation herself. It was having been an adult all day that accounted for it.

Is everything all right?

she asked.


Of course. She suspects nothing. How should she?


I don

t know. You sound

strange.


I am tired. I

m going straight to bed. Good night, Grace.

Her first reaction was annoyance, which soon dwindled to sadness.

Good night.

She was acutely conscious that night of the unseemliness of sleeping next door to Whewett without even a lock on her side. He must find her farouche, to say the least. The oddest thing of all was that until this evening, the arrangement had not struck her as questionable. Even when he had inquired once if she was inviting him to sneak into her room after the household was asleep, she had only laughed. But the question showed that it had at least occurred to him.

When she eventually fell into a fitful doze, it was of their outing that she dreamed. Much later she awoke and saw a beam of light beneath Whewett

s door. She heard a measured tread that told her he was pacing. He, too, felt this new strangeness in their relationship and a reluctance to defy convention.

In the morning she examined his behavior closely to see if he revealed what thoughts had kept him awake the night before, but with Lady Healy at the table, he behaved exactly as usual.

After breakfast Whewett took Daugherty over the estate, and Grace went for a brisk walk, as she had carelessly

lost

her skipping rope. She was not within view of the road when an antique black traveling carriage drove up to the door, nor would she have recognized Mrs. Townsend in any case.

Half an hour later Grace was completing her circuit when the carriage left. A black bonnet within suggested an aging female caller. Some old friend or neighbor of Lady Healy, she thought, and went lightly into the hallway, calling

Grandmama!

in her childish voice.


Come in here, miss. You have some explaining to do,

Lady Healy called. Her voice alerted Grace to trouble.

A glance into the Purple Saloon sent her heart sinking. There on the table sat her new poke bonnet with the pink feather. Beside it rested her slippers, left in the carriage the day before. Lady Healy regarded these items, her face set in a grim, horrible frown. As Grace watched, the dame

s one free hand went to her hip in a bellicose attitude strangely at odds with her years and her cane.


Yes, ma

am,

she answered timidly, and walked in.


Will you be so kind as to tell me what these articles were doing in Whewett

s carriage?

she demanded.

Grace swallowed twice, while her mind worked feverishly.

How did you find out?


I

ll ask the questions, miss!

She also went on to give the answer.

Mrs. Townsend has told me the whole, so there is no point in lying. That takes you by surprise, eh?


Yes.

Her answer was an echo of regret. How much had Mrs. Townsend learned? The woman had not seen her.

Lady Healy

s next speech gave her a rush of hope.

Never mind trying to protect your papa. He met that Farnsworth creature in Tunbridge Wells. I know the whole, except what he did with you while he cavorted about the Pump Room with that hussy. I know you were not with them. And why did she leave her things in the carriage?


I

I believe he bought Miss Farnsworth a new bonnet,

Grace said. No plausible explanation for the slippers occurred to her.


The gudgeon, letting himself be fleeced by a trollop. But where were
you
all the while, Augusta?


I was in the park.

The important thing was to conceal the masquerade. Whewett must make his own excuses.


Alone?

Those black eyes seemed to bore right into her soul.

Yes.


Your father abandoned you
alone
in a public park while he made a rendezvous with a lightskirt? Is that what you are telling me, Augusta?

An awful wrath was gathering in the old lady. Grace wished to decrease it, but hardly knew how. Lady Healy ranted on, gathering steam as she advanced.

I

ll not leave your fortune in his hands. He has no more sense or common decency than a dog. I shall appoint the court as guardian of your inheritance.

Grace had a strong feeling that Whewett would hate this. It would be a blow to his self-esteem, to be held untrustworthy, publicly deemed an improper parent. It was also unfair, for whatever else he was, he was an outstandingly good and loving father.

High spirits and daring in Augusta, on the other hand, had never been entirely unacceptable to the old lady.

No! Papa would never do that
—”
Grace looked fearfully to assess the degree of danger and punishment that might proceed from a different version of the afternoon.


Aha! I knew it! Whewett ain

t a complete ninnyhammer. Never was a womanizer. Tell the truth now, missie, and it had best be good!

The dark eyes examining Grace held a greedy light.

What was the bonnet doing in the carriage?


It was me. I wore the bonnet.

The dark eyes glowed with satisfied shock, encouraging her to continue this tack.

For a lark, you know. I

I convinced Papa to buy it for me, when we went in to buy a present for Invers.


You did not wear such a bonnet in public in short skirts. What did you wear with it?


A long skirt. I

I found one in the clothes press in my room and wore it pulled up till I was in the carriage. And the slippers

we bought a used pair at Sempleton

s Cobbler

s shop in Wickfield, to complete the outfit. It was just a little masquerade, Grandma, for fun. It

s
my
fault. I talked Papa into it. No harm was done.


You are a saucy minx, Augusta. You have caused a good deal of gossip with this prank. I know what it was all about. You wanted to go into places a young lady would not be allowed

to drink wine in a fancy inn and make a cake of yourself. Did you have wine, eh?


Champagne,

she admitted in a small voice, with her head bent to denote shame.

Lady Healy was not at all horrified, nor one bit angry. She could hardly keep from laughing aloud. Here was a reincarnation of herself, a madcap ready for any rig. Of course some punishment must be meted out for the looks of it.


Baggage! This will not go unpunished. I ain

t a cloth-head, even if your papa is. He ought to have a good whipping as well.

As well? Grace looked up with real fear, in light of this new twist. She didn

t doubt for a moment that Lady Healy was capable of it.

Papa never whips me!


I know it well. That is exactly the problem. You  deserve a stick across your back, and you shall have it.

Grace regarded her warily. She was old, her arms weak. Her blackthorn stick jiggled with the effort of standing. She could not hit very hard. It would be a tap, and there would be a gift afterward to atone for it.


You

ll feel this,

she warned, lifting the black stick. The unfinished piece of wood was blistered with knobs and looked a hefty weapon.

Grace gauged her opponent and alit on an alternative punishment.

Hit me, then. That is better than being locked in the attic!

Her ruse worked. An expression of relief flew to the sagging face that looked down on her.

Is that what you fear most?

Grace lifted her chin boldly.

I

m not afraid of anything.


Except being locked in the attic.

Without further conversation the groom-butler was summoned.

Lady Augusta will be locked in the attic till dark without food. Take her away.

The dame turned on her heel and stalked to the window, her heart beating wildly with excitement. She wanted to run after Augusta and hug her, but discipline was clearly required here.

BOOK: Madcap Miss
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ads

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