Read The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) Online
Authors: Karla Darcy
How could Amity tell Max that the woman he loved had set out to ruin his ward's chances in society? She had trusted Honoria and had not looked beyond the woman's words to the character beneath. It was in recent days that she had begun to question Honoria's motives but she had ignored the inconsistencies since Max thought so well of the woman. Could Max not see beyond the woman's beautiful facade? And if he couldn't, it was not up to Amity to destroy his illusions.
For some reason, Honoria had taken her in dislike but Amity could not wholly blame the woman. She had been far too trusting. Now she understood why Madame Bertoldi had been so unsettled. The Frenchwoman knew that Amity's choices were wrong but had been afraid of losing Honoria's custom by arguing. In the light of this discovery, Amity suspected that the other garments in her wardrobe would be wrong for her. A spurt of anger forced her head up and she glared at the cinder path.
"I shant be a spineless doll, Muffin," she said with decision. The dog raised his head, cocking his ears as she reached down to scratch him. "I have been far too trusting. But now that I am aware of the situation I should be able to salvage something. Tomorrow I shall go back to Madame Bertoldi without Honoria and see what we can do to ensure that the rest of my wardrobe is suitable. For tonight I shall just hold my head up and smile."
Standing up, Amity brushed down her skirts and squared her shoulders. She picked up her bonnet, plopped it on her head and tied the ribbons. Having made a decision, she was determined to enjoy the rest of her morning stroll. Muffin lumbered to his feet, staring around at the park as though surprised to be there. Amity strolled along the path, stopping to peer more closely at the foliage along the way. The path turned to the right and just before she rounded the corner, Amity heard the sound of crying. She stopped, trying to locate the sound but Muffin bounded ahead and disappeared from sight. A shrill screech was choked off and Amity dashed around the corner.
A girl her own age was pressed against a bench, cowering away from Muffin. A handkerchief was clutched in her hand that she waved in front of the dog as though warding off evil. Amity hurried forward and grabbed a handful of fur then extended her hand to reassure the girl.
"He's really not fearsome," she said. "Come on, you great looby. You're frightening the lady."
Pulling Amity along, Muffin shambled forward until his nose was pressed against the black dress of the terrified girl. He raised his shaggy head, staring at her with his great soulful eyes, then lifted one hairy paw and placed it in her lap. The girl hiccupped once, raised her eyes to Amity's encouraging face, then stared down at the dog. After a moment's hesitation, she lifted the hand holding the handkerchief and tentatively stroked the hair on his back.
"I'm sorry I screamed, miss. He's a sweet old thing." Across the dog's back, the girl gave a watery smile to Amity.
Amity took in the reddened eyes and tear tracks on the girl's face and moved closer. Since she had just been feeling so desperate herself, she recognized the signs in the other girl. Pretending to notice nothing amiss, she sat down on the other end of the bench.
"This is Muffin. I'm ever so sorry he frightened you. As a rule we don't see anyone at this time of the morning." Amity bent her head patting the dog's back as the girl scrubbed at her tearstained cheeks.
"I 'spect it was the surprise," the girl. "When I set down there was not many jauntering around."
"Am I intruding?" Amity asked. "I didn't mean to be rude."
"No, please don't go," the girl said, lifting her hand as though to hold Amity in place. "I was sunk in a fit of the sullens as me mum used to say and that will never do. I would ever so much enjoy talking to someone."
"It's so nice to have a friend to talk to," Amity admitted. Smiling she introduced herself. "Muffin and I are new to London and we have made no particular friends. Sometimes it is very lonely."
The girl took her extended hand and bobbed her head as though making a curtsy. "I am Betta Twidleigh. I'm most pleased to meet you."
She then reached for the paw in her lap and shook Muffin who responded by opening his mouth and yawning.
Both girls giggled as the dog slumped at their feet, sprawling on the sun-warmed grass. For several minutes they sat in silence on the bench, then Amity coughed in embarrassment.
"I know it is the height of rudeness to intrude on your thoughts but sometimes a problem shared is less in weight." Amity flushed as Betta scanned her face but the girl did not seem insulted, but nodded her head in agreement.
"I am a thief," the girl blurted out as if the words were torn from her. At Amity's gasp of surprise, she added, "At least my mistress accused me of stealing. But in faith I did not take the bracelet."
"My apologies, Betta, for insulting you with such missish behavior but it was the surprise of your words," Amity said.
"It's of no mind, Miss Amity. I'd be happy to explain if you would care to listen." At Amity's quick nod, she continued, "I was abigail to Mistress Euphemia Teasdale. Her husband is in banking and she felt her social position required a body servant. I worked for her for two years. She was not too difficult a mistress."
Betta's brief words gave Amity a picture of a bleak existence in the household of a
nouveau riche
cit. Now that she had a chance to look more carefully, she could see that Betta was a well-spoken servant with the clean look of a country girl. She had a long face, rather plain but set off by warm brown eyes. Her black bombazine dress was neat and her brown hair was tucked beneath a spotless mobcap. There was a crisp, no nonsense air about the girl that Amity liked.
"Two days ago Mistress Teasdale attended a party without her husband. I had it from the parlor maid who is stepping out with the coachman that it was a gambling party." Betta made a moue of disapproval, sighed and then continued with her story. "She was very late in getting home and seemed overset. I helped her into her night things, put away her jewelry and then, since she seemed so distraught, brought her a cup of warm milk. She dismissed me and I hurried to bed, knowing I would have to be up in less than five hours."
Betta paused and stared at the bushes on the far side of the path. Her forehead was lined in puzzlement and her fingers pulled at the handkerchief in her lap. For a moment her chin quivered and Amity leaned forward and placed her own hand on top of the girl's in encouragement.
"Yesterday I was woken with a powerful commotion. Sarah, the cook, was shaking me and told me the mistress was screaming her head off. I hurried into my clothes and ran to her room to see her raise her finger to point at me in fury." Betta's face whitened at the memory of the terrible scene and she squeezed Amity's hand for courage. "Banker Teasdale was there and Mistress Teasdale was sobbing and tearing her hair. She called me terrible names and accused me of stealing her diamond bracelet."
"That is the outside of enough!" Amity declared, furious at the injustice done to her new friend. "Surely you explained you had not done any such thing."
Betta smiled at the girl's immediate defense. "I tried to but she would not listen. She kept calling me a sly, deceitful girl and turned me out without a letter of recommendation."
"The ungrateful woman!" Amity jumped to her feet in her agitation. Having been involved in the running of Beech House she was well aware of the impossibility of finding a job without a character. Whirling around, she faced Betta, glaring at the girl. "And I hope you told her so."
For the first time since they began talking, Betta's face broke into a genuine smile of enjoyment. She began to laugh until tears stood in her eyes while Amity continued to stare down at her. Finally she too realized the humor in the situation and sat back down, joining the other girl in laughter.
Betta wiped her streaming eyes. "With your red hair and your flashing eyes, you reminded me of an angry cock me mum used to keep."
"What happened to him?"
"We ate him."
At the words the girls once more fell into laughter. Muffin raised his head, staring at them through sleepy eyes, then snuffling in disgust, he slumped back on the grass.
"You have made me feel so much better," Betta said, patting Amity's arm when she could control her giggles.
"I'm glad for that," Amity said. "But what do you suppose did happen to the bracelet?"
Betta's long face turned serious. "I have thought and thought and I think I have discovered the answer. I do not recall seeing the bracelet when I put away the jewelry. I think Mistress Teasdale wagered the bracelet at the gambling party. As I mentioned earlier, she was very agitated when she returned. She kept wringing her hands and staring at the door connecting to her husband's suite of rooms. I think she decided to claim it was stolen rather than admit she had lost it gambling."
"What will you do now, Betta?" Amity asked.
"I spent the rest of yesterday going to the employment agencies but, without a letter I have little hope of securing a position."
Once more her chin began to tremble and Amity's heart went out to the girl. Since her arrival in London she had seen many areas of the city where the poor subsisted in filth and squalor. The thought that the neat little figure beside her should be reduced to such circumstances forced her to take charge.
"Then you shall come and be my abigail," she said.
"You're bamming me," Betta blurted out in astonishment.
"I'm not," Amity said. Her voice was serious as she turned to the girl. "I have a need for a new abigail. Emily has been taking care of me but she doesn't half like the job."
"Are you that sorry a mistress?" Betta asked.
"I will admit that I am ever so crabby in the morning but it is not for that Emily wants to return to the kitchens. She is walking out with one of the footmen and she says she never gets a chance to see him now that she spends so much time in my room. When she was a parlor maid, she could slip off to the kitchen whenever he was near." The more Amity thought about the idea of Betta as her abigail the more enthusiastic she became. "There is not a lot to do for me and I would be ever so pleased to have someone I could talk to."
Betta's face was expressionless as her huge eyes scanned Amity. It was evident the girl was sincere and she truly was in desperate straights but more than that there was an appeal behind the words which inclined Betta to accept the position without question. Her wide mouth pulled in a grin and she nodded her head in agreement.
"You are quite the answer to my prayers, Betta," Amity said, hugging the girl. "I have made a sad muddle of my life since I came to London."
Briefly Amity explained about Honoria and the folly of her wardrobe while Betta listened wide-eyed. Although Amity was mystified by the betrayal, the servant had little difficulty guessing that it was a simple matter of jealousy. She had already taken in the potential beauty of her new mistress and could well imagine the other young lady feeling threatened. She kept her opinion to herself, recognizing a sweet naiveté in Amity that she had no desire to despoil. There was time enough for her mistress to discover the many evils in the world.
"Will your guardian approve of your choice?" Betta asked her tone hesitant.
"He will be so busy with the details for the ball this evening that he will agree to anything." Amity chuckled. "He's been wearing a black scowl since the caterers and florists arrived and yesterday in desperation he abandoned the house for the sanctity of his club. Lady Grassmere is little help and although I have offered to be of assistance, the butler and the housekeeper have things well in train."
Reminded of the ball, Amity shivered as she thought about the dress she must wear tonight. As if they had been friends for many years, Betta assured her that between the two of them they ought to be able to figure out something to make the gown appear more suitable. Perhaps after all the dress might not be such a disaster. Much in charity with each other, the girls awakened the dog and hurried back to the townhouse. Putnam awaited her arrival and with a cautionary air warned her that Lord Max was awaiting her in the library. Amity introduced Betta and turned her new abigail over to the butler, then straightening her bonnet and brushing out her skirts, she hurried up the stairs and along the hall to the library. Opening the door, she peeped around the edge of the door.
The library was her favorite room in the townhouse. It was a large room with shelves of books on three sides, rising to the painted representations of the constellations on the ornate ceiling. The fourth wall held a charming window seat within the bow window and looked out on the walled garden with the mews behind. Max was seated in a deep leather chair behind an enormous mahogany desk. As if he sensed her presence, his head jerked up and he pierced her with his sharp green gaze.
"Devil take it, Amity! Where have you been?" Max shouted.
"I-I," she stammered in surprise at her guardian's furious expression.
"Don't just stand there like some gapeseed," he snapped. "What have you to say for yourself? It is my understanding that you and that ill-kempt beast of yours were gallivanting around town with no attendants. May I remind you that in London it takes little to give the old tabbies a disgust of you. Your reputation could be in shreds after just such an escapade."
"I'm sorry, Max, but...." Amity began but was cut off by her guardian.
"You are a hurly-burly girl. Just look at you. Your hair is flying about your face like some tousled baggage."
Max was astounded at the extent of his anger. He had sent for her after breakfast and was stunned to discover that she was nowhere to be found. He had been pacing the library ever since, all too aware of the dangers that could befall an innocent young girl and now she had the unmitigated gall to bounce into the room, cheeks flushed and hair spilling around her face in riotous curls like a veritable hoyden. The wide clear blue of her eyes held a wounded look that that served to exacerbated his annoyance. He glared at her and she had the grace to flush and dip her head in embarrassment.