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Authors: Joan Smith

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BOOK: Madcap Miss
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When Grace went to her room, she wondered if Whewett planned to sneak out after Grandma retired. Was that why he had shaved? Had he met some lightskirt in the village while he was at the inn? He didn

t seem that sort of gentleman, but then he was a widower and away from home. Perhaps she

d tease him about it.

In the Purple Saloon Lady Healy smiled her satisfaction.

She is a lovely lass, Alfred.


Yes, I am proud of her.


I have been thinking, as those Kent people are coming so soon to see the place, you might as well stay.


It is not at all convenient for me. I told you so when Bronfman mentioned four days.


It would be in every way better if you would ride about the place with Daugherty. Must be Irish, eh, with a name like that? Bronfman will try to take advantage of me. He

ll point out the worst features.


He

ll hardly do that. He

s trying to sell.


What I mean is, Daugherty will mention them, and Bronfman will make it an excuse to lower my price. I need a man to protect my interests. It may make a thousand difference in the price.

Whewett frowned.

I have things I should be doing at home.


Surely your daughter

s welfare is of equal importance!

she pointed out curtly.


Of course, but--


You

ll stay, then.


Yes, Grandmama. I

ll drop my man of business a note tonight.


Good. Now we must discuss the Scotland properties. I have promised five thousand to the Hunt Club there. My Willie started it up, you know. It is to be endowed in his name. The balance of what I possess is for Gussie. I mean to remain in Scotland till I die. It is my home. Once I am gone, however, you will want to dispose of the property and get the money. It is the sensible course. Bruce MacKinnon, a neighbor, has dropped hints he is interested. Don

t give it away. It is worth ten thousand.


Yes, I

ll arrange it. Gussie would have no use for a Scottish property.

This innocent remark caused his companion to turn querulous.

It seems not, as she was never
once
allowed to visit Scotland in twelve years. She should have come at least once. She ain

t sickly, and she ain

t shy. Why did you keep her from me?


I couldn

t send her alone, and you know I am busy.

‘‘
You could have sent her with Invers. I have an excellent opinion of Invers. She has trained Gussie well.

Of course he could not tell the truth, but he must say something.

Gussie is pretty young yet.


I
ain

t! If she is ever to come, it must be soon.


Yes,

he said, to have done with the subject.


Good, I am glad you agree with me. I shall have Mulkins prepare my posset and bring it to my room. I am for the tick, Alfred. I ain

t much company for you, I fear. Help me out of this demmed chair. The chairs are all too low in this house.

He hauled her up, called Mulkins, then helped her upstairs. Within minutes, he was tapping at Grace

s door. Her room was cheerier with more candles to relieve the heavy shadows. She was happier, too, with a copy of Richardson

s
Pamela
open before her.


Brushing up on the Bible, are you?

he asked, glancing at the book.


I am more agreeably entertained, reading up on the rewards of virtue.

He lifted the tome to see the title.

Pretty warm stuff for my twelve-year-old daughter,

he quizzed.


Buy her a copy. One is never too young to learn about the wickedness of men. I consider the book
de rigueur
for servants like myself, and I like Pamela, the heroine. A pity Mrs. Bixworth had no wastrel son to fall in love with me. Even the initial would have matched Pamela

s Mr. B.

Whewett lifted a satirical brow.

A great pity. It would have enlivened your dull days no end to have the pleasure of being pursued by a rake.


My days did not lack liveliness, I promise you. When I was not pulling Dora out from under a horse

s hooves, I was rescuing Ellie Lou from the briny deep.


It puts skipping and Bible reading quite in the shade, eh, Doll?


You should not call me that in front of Grandma. She likes to hear her own name being used on a younger person. She resents her age so.


It must be the devil when they start building the chairs so low you can

t get out of them unaided."

Grace adopted a confidential tone.

Did you know her hair is dyed? I caught Mulkins with the dye pot going to her room when I came upstairs.


And she letting on it was a posset! It

s sweet, though, to have held on to her vanity for so long. I seemed to turn old at thirty or so.

Grace looked at his smooth cheek and discerned a fresh dose of cologne emanating from him.

I don

t think you are quite free of vanity yet, sir. A man does not shave twice in one day if he does not care for his appearance. I think you are on the scent of some female, Whewett.

She watched in astonishment as a pink flush ascended from his collar. What had possessed him to have a fresh shave, only to come in here and be mocked by this bright-eyed young lady?


It

s true!

she charged, and laughed loudly.

Now
do
tell me all about her. You must have met her at the inn, unless she was lurking about the west acres.

At least she didn

t suspect she was the cause. The pink faded, leaving only an air of consciousness.

I always shave twice a day,

he said with a fair semblance of ease.


You didn

t yesterday. Your cheek was rough last night. You

ll have to slip out quietly, Whewett.. Grandma wouldn

t like it.


I

m not slipping out!

he exclaimed.

You make me sound like a libertine.

She gave him a saucy smile.

No, you are making yourself sound like one. A gentleman might take a glass of wine with a lady in the evening without being a libertine. Now, before you shock me with any further lechery, let us speak of more important things. I mean, of course, food.

Whewett was remarkably glad to change the subject.

I thought it would not be long before we came back to that. I daresay you haven

t had a bite in half an hour, except for a peck of apples and box of bonbons.


It

s been more than half an hour since
I
ate,

she reminded him, as he went to his room for the food. He returned with a roasted chicken in oiled paper and an apple tart,


A whole meal!

she gurgled.

How splendid. And how messy. I cannot eat an apple tart with my fingers. And what do I do with a chicken carcass after I have devoured the rest?


I thought you would eat the bones, too, like a whale.


Whales are not carnivores, Whewett,

she said! daintily dismembering a leg and nibbling on it.

I

ll wrap the bones up for you to throw away when you are riding tomorrow. Would you like some of this?


It looks good,

he said, accepting the other leg.

A pity we have no wine for our picnic.


So much more appetizing than sour milk, my youthful innards notwithstanding. Did Grandma say anything interesting after I left?


It is settled you are to be her sole heir but for the Hunt Club in Scotland. Mulkins and the servants will get some bequests, of course, though she didn

t say so.


I am happy for Augusta, but I feel badly about fooling Lady Healy.


I don

t. She might have left it all to the Scottish hunters if you hadn

t come. She is miffed with me for not having sent Gussie to her, but this visit convinces me they would not have rubbed along at all. She is shy, my Gussie.


Tell me about her,

Grace said.


It

s hard for me to be objective. I love her, you see. She is quiet,

he began, with a fond smile.

She

s been too much alone, with no mother, you know. We are close, but it

s not the same. She often rides out with me on my rounds when she is not at her lessons. She

s bright, plays the pianoforte, speaks French, but not so fluently as you. Neither does she do so well in her sums.


As to the sums, there is no teacher like necessity. Besides, you forget I

m old enough to be teaching Augusta.


That

s true. She

s a good rider. I made her be. She was frightened at first.


What of her friends

the girl with the toothache?


There are no youngsters living close by. The one with the toothache, Sally Grimsby, was just visiting six months ago. Gussie makes a big thing of anyone who happens along. A cousin or whatnot in the house for a few days takes on great importance.


I expect she has an active imagination. Those ... lonesome children do.


Too much so. I had a librarian cataloging my books a while ago, and Gussie took to pretending his daughter was her sister. For two weeks she was happy as a lark and talked on for ages about her sister. I worry a little about her. I should send her to a seminary, I expect, but I

m too selfish.


That

s not really selfishness. I imagine you

re a very nice sort of father. Kind, caring, easy to wind round a thumb,

she added with a pert look.

Is Gussie a winder?


Not at all.


You wouldn

t recognize it if she were.


Perhaps you

re right. She talked me into letting her go to Ireland with Mary. I hope she isn

t homesick

she

s been gone a month. They

ll be back soon.


Perhaps she

ll be there waiting for you when you return.


Not quite that soon. In any case, my sister is bringing her back, so Gussie would not be alone at Downsfield.

He glanced at the remains of chicken.

What are we to do with the rest of this meat?


Eat it, of course. Do you have a pocket knife to carve that lovely breast?

Whewett shook his head, wondering where such a small girl put so much food. He cut it into thin strips, to be eaten with the fingers.

Does your sister know you are here?

Grace asked.


I didn

t write. They know at home where I am, and would tell her if she came.


I hope she doesn

t come landing in with the real Augusta!


Not much chance of that. But enough of my problems. What will you do when you leave?


I

ll try to find Miss Thomas, get a new position. My hundred pounds gives me time to look around.

Whewett mentally compared their futures.

It sounds a hard life for a young girl. Yes, I know you are all of two and twenty, but that happens to sound young to me. Would you like to go to Ireland? I could speak to Mary about you. With two girls, she might have some use for you.

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