Madcap Miss (13 page)

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Authors: Joan Smith

Tags: #Regency Romance

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Before long, the dame espied it.

What

s this? Reading something you shouldn

t, eh? Humph, love stories. I suspected all along you had your head full of fellows. I hadn

t realized you were turning into a woman already.

Her eyes just glanced off Grace

s bosom. In her thin gown, it was clear she was not a child. Grace slouched to conceal it as well as she could, but was not allowed to get off with that trick.


Sit up straight, Augusta. It

s nothing to be ashamed of. I had breasts when I was thirteen. Stranger things will be happening to your body soon. Don

t let it worry you. I never paid any heed to all that foolishness about not riding on my days. All stuff and nonsense. Well, I have rung a loud peal over your papa and half talked him out of the Elton creature, but I come to see he must marry someone. Have you any ideas?


Papa has good taste. He

ll find someone.


Of course he has. He married your mother. But he is getting old, and old men get silly. They take into their heads to marry a pretty young chit, to show the world they are still attractive. Very foolish things are done when a man is forty.


Is

is Papa forty?

Grace asked.


He soon will be.

They talked on for a while. No difficulties arose, as Lady Healy did most of the talking. Just before leaving, she said,

Would you like to come to Scotland and visit me sometime?


I would love to, Grandma.


Invers could bring you. We shall think about it later.

This sounded sufficiently vague to agree to. Grandma gave Grace a hug and kiss before leaving. There was no repulsion at her swoop this time. She was just a lonely old lady, and Grace wanted to let her know, or at least think, that she was loved.

I

m so happy to have met you at last, Grandma,

she said.


I am a crotchety old lady, but you must not dislike me for that.


What a thing to say!


I thought you might be afraid of me. I

m glad to see you ain

t a widgeon. Stand up to me. That way we shall go on famously. Now I am off to bed. I hate being old. I used to dance till three, then be up riding at seven the next morning. Make good use of your youth, Augusta. It don

t last long. You wake up one morning and see an old lady in the mirror, while your heart is still young. You only get to go around once. Isn

t that a sad thing? By the time you

ve got a glimmering what the world is all about, you

re too old to enjoy it. Don

t I wish I were twenty again, with strong legs and a strong back. But I ain

t. I am seventy-five and need my sleep. We turn back into babies before we die, sleeping and eating all day long. Brush your teeth, Gussie, and go to sleep.


Good night, Grandma.

Grace hopped up to open the door for her, and Molly came with a footman to remove the bath water. Grace watched Lady Healy depart, sad to see her hobble down the hall, leaning on her black stick. What unfulfilled dreams had caused that outburst from the old lady? Her life had been full

much fuller than Grace

s own life.

She sat on the side of the bed thinking. It was fine to say make good use of your youth, but how was it possible in such straitened circumstances? Grace rose and went to the dusty mirror, to see a child staring glumly back at her, with the gloomy walls looking very like a prison behind her. She pulled the blue ribbons from her hair and tossed them on the dresser.

Whewett would be coming soon, and she began to dress. She put on her white lawn blouse, and as the room was warm, she did not bother with the jacket. Her skirt did not have to be hiked up when it was only Whewett who would see her. She ran a brush through her hair and, on impulse, piled it on top of her head, turning this way and that to study her appearance.

If she could only get out of service, get some decent clothes, and meet a few gentlemen, she might make a match yet. But how could it be done? Her life, her youth, her precious one chance were all slipping away. She had to earn her bread, but she did not have to be a governess. Surely the world offered more exciting jobs. Acting, for instance ...

She was a fair actress, to judge from the job she had done here. It was a shady career for a lady, but if a respectable marriage was beyond her, what did that matter?
You only get to go around once.
What a dreadful fate, to have your one round as a governess. If Lady Healy were in her position, she would not settle for so little. What an actress she would have made, with her dramatic height and commanding manner. She would have ruled the West End. But would a daub of a woman like herself be able to accomplish it? Not likely.

There was a discreet tap at the door.

Come in,

she said.

Whewett stepped in and stopped dead. His last view of Grace had already upset him. In his mind he knew she was an adult, but it was a thing known without being felt. That first tantalizing glimmer was now revealed in its entirety.


Am I in the right place? I don

t believe I recognize this ravishing creature.

His eyes traveled slowly from the tip of her gleaming curls, over the swell of her breast, down to her toes.

She sensed his interest and said sharply,

It won

t be for lack of looking!

Her rebuke startled him back to business.

Why  are you dressed like that? Do you want to blow the whole thing?

‘‘
Don

t worry. I had my hair up in bows when she came.


I trust you had on your jacket as well,

he said. His eyes lingered on that blouse and the tiny waist below it.


She doesn

t suspect anything. We squabs of girls are early developers. We had a very interesting talk.


That sounds ominous. You look

unhappy.


I am. I would like to be put on the rack and stretched six inches.


It sounds delightful. Many gentlemen prefer the pocket-size Venus, if this torture is designed for that purpose.

She tossed her head proudly.

It

s not just that. Grandma gave me some excellent advice, but I don

t know how to follow it.

She walked to the bed and sat on its edge.

Have a seat, Whewett,

she said, indicating the chair.

He went warily toward it. He was uneasy at being in a bedroom with what was very obviously a pretty young lady. As he had been in the habit of coming, however, he hardly knew how to extricate himself creditably.

What advice did she give?


To take life by the neck and throttle a good time out of it.


She certainly followed her own advice.


Tell me all about her,

Grace said eagerly.


She led the family a merry chase. There was a broken engagement or two, capped off with a runaway match with an ineligible officer of the Guards. He had the grace to die and leave her a romantic widow at eighteen. She went north, ostensibly to mourn, but I doubt there was much crape in evidence. The year was hardly out before she married Lord Healy and burned up the countryside with her pranks

happily ever after. The one lack in her life was a son. After a few miscarriages brought on by riding, she had a child, my wife

s mother. My Augusta is her great granddaughter. Quite a lady, old Augusta.


I knew she

d be like that,

Grace said with a wistful smile.

I wonder what she would do if she were me.


Some such thing as you are doing. She wouldn

t stop at playing a child. She

d take to the boards at Covent Garden, get herself an influential patron or two

or ten.


That is exactly what I thought.


You

re coming to know her pretty well.


I am coming to like her, too. I think she is wise as well as wild. Whewett, have you often been to Covent Garden?


Frequently. Why do you ask?

She stood up and turned a slow circle in front of him.

Do you think I might be an actress? Am I too dumpy?


What nonsense is this?

he demanded angrily.

Ladies do not turn actress.


Oh, pooh! I am not a lady by anything but birth. I am a servant, to be ordered about by anyone who can pay me a hundred pounds a year. If I must work, I would prefer an exciting job. Do you think I am too short and plain to be an actress?


Yes! It is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of.

She sat down, crestfallen at his vehemence.

You didn

t have to be so positive about it.


I am positive you are not going to be an actress, a byword in the clubs, a plaything for some doughty old duke.


Much I

d care about that! I have a good mind to take my hundred pounds and go to London to give it a try. If I got some flashy, low-cut gowns and painted my face ...


Stop talking such foolishness, Grace! What on earth did Grandma say to put such ideas into your head?

Grace sighed wearily.

She said to make good use of my one chance. Imagine, I am having my one fling as a governess. Oh, it makes me so angry, I could cry.


Being a governess is perfectly respectable.


I

m tired of being respectable!

she exclaimed in frustration.

What do you know about being a governess? You

re rich. You

ve always been independent. You

ve never had to stay up half the night with a whining youngster and get up again at seven, your eyes gritty with fatigue, to go back to work. You

ve never had to spend months doing work you hate

teaching arithmetic. I
hate
arithmetic. I hate Mrs. Bixworth and all the Mrs. Bixworths. The next job will be the same, or worse.

Her diatribe gave him some idea of her past and, worse, her future. He wanted to comfort her, but was restrained by reality.

Calm down, Grace,

he said mildly.

It won

t be the same. I

ll speak to Mary. She has two nice girls, utterly unlike the Bixworths. Mary would be happy to have you.


She must have someone already.


She was complaining about her woman,

he invented.

Grace looked at him with the dawning of interest.

What is she like, your sister?


Very nice. She certainly wouldn

t work you night and day. She lives in a good style in Ireland, with plenty of horses.


She wouldn

t let me use her mounts.


It could be arranged.

Grace shook her head.

I know you would arrange it if you could, but to treat a governess so would only lead to gossip in the neighborhood. I

m sure Ireland has its Mrs. Grundys, too. If I am to be a byword, I would prefer it to be in London, where they are used to such things.


I don

t want to hear any more about your becoming an actress,

he said sternly.

I won

t permit it.

He sounded so very much like her father in a rant that Grace had to stifle a laugh. But there was no point pestering Whewett with her problems, and she said no more.


You have provided a valuable service for me,

he continued.

I shall find a respectable post for you before we part. Now, the subject is closed. I have a bottle of wine in my room. We shall have a glass of wine and go to bed.

A conscious look entered his eyes, and Grace suspected he regretted his choice of words, but she ignored any ambiguity in the speech.

You don

t have to assume responsibility for the rest of my life,

she said.

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