The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) (17 page)

"I suppose so," Max said. "I was assuming all would be successful but with this new start one wonders if she has lost her wits entirely. A soldier," he snorted in disgust.

"You mustn't be too harsh with the child," Honoria said, her voice soft with appeal. "She is new to the ways of society and has much to learn. I am just pleased that you now will have an opportunity to warn her. Ever since I saw her with the young man I have been in a quandary over what action to take to protect her from her own folly."

"Telling me was the proper action, my dear. I shall get to the bottom of this." Max's tight lips and grim features indicated that the subject was closed and his ward would have much to answer for her actions. Returning to the ballroom, he noted the bouncing step of Honoria and realized she was relieved to have confessed her guilty secrets. Amity must be made aware of how good a friend she had in Honoria. Thank heaven that he understood women, he thought in relief.

When Max returned home it was late and both Lady Grassmere and Amity had retired. He debated waking the girl but he was so angry with her that he knew he was not in the proper frame of mind to deal with the situation. The thought that she had been participating in secret meetings with some unknown soldier quite infuriated him. How could she be so stupid as to risk her reputation in some light flirtation?

He entered the library and poured himself a large brandy, sipping the liquor without conscious awareness of its fine quality. Throwing himself into his high backed chair, he stretched out his legs, prying each shoe off with the toe of the other. He propped his feet up on a footstool and once more considered the problem of Amity.

Granted she was impetuous and childlike in her curiosity and enthusiasm, he had never felt she was either immodest or flirtatious. She was congenial to all the men who flocked around her but he had noticed that she never permitted any of the men to make advances to her. In fact he had heard her scold them when they praised her with the flowery compliments they were accustomed to use. She treated them all with the avuncular affection reserved for younger, and not necessarily brighter, brothers. It seemed out of character that this practical miss should have fallen foul of some soldier with immoral intentions; Amity was far too honorable to be involved in some tawdry liaison. Despite Honoria's interpretation, Max felt that there had to be some other explanation.

There was much going on in his household that he felt needed clarification. He was still chagrined that he had not been able to discover what a piglet was doing loose in his foyer and what had been going on in the garden storeroom. It had been several days before he was able to visit the area, since he wished to avoid any appearance that he was snooping in his own garden. When he went to the storeroom, the only evidence that he could discover of any animals' occupancy was a strong aroma of the barnyard and a chair minus several mouthfuls of stuffing.

Although this might have been enough to worry him he had noticed other peculiarities in the running of his household. Most of the servants employed on his various estates had been affiliated with his family for years. However over the past several weeks he had noticed an increasing number of new faces in and around the townhouse and the stables. Despite the fact he had never paid much attention to his household staff, he could swear there was an ever-changing supply of strange men in his employ.

Amity's arrival in his life had turned his well ordered bachelor existence topsy-turvy. Perhaps he might have been more zealous in his investigations but he had to admit that in some ways there were benefits to the reformation of his life. From one day to the next he had no way of predicting what novelty he would find in his household; instead of the boredom he had been prone to, he discovered he awakened in the morning with anticipation of what the day might offer. There was an atmosphere that pervaded the townhouse, a feeling of lightness and joy that had been absent before Amity flew into his life. It was apparent in the smiling faces of the servants and in an air of happiness that crept into each room like the bowls of flowers the girl was forever arranging.

However after his discussion with Honoria, Max knew that he would need to determine what the girl was up to. He could not close his eyes to the possibility that her impetuous nature might have catapulted her into some sort of trouble.

The first thing he needed was information. Although he could ask Putnam, he was not positive the starchy man would give him satisfactory answers to his questions. All of the servants had become slaves to Amity's slightest wish. They fair doted on the minx and despite the fact their first allegiance was to Max, he suspected they would protect her from his wrath if put to the test. Besides he would much prefer to find out on his own and deal with it himself.

In particular, Max was determined to communicate directly with Amity's soldier. If the man somehow were taking advantage of her trusting nature, Max intended to teach him a very painful lesson.

Putnam was not to be approached, so Max's next possibility for information was his own valet. The old man was always aware of the goings on in the household and, less astute than the butler, might not be aware of Max's gentle probing. Unfortunately he would have to wait until morning to question Wilberforce, since several years ago he had told the old man he was quite capable of finding his own way to bed. On that thought, he downed the last of his brandy and quitted the library for his bed.

After a good night's sleep, Max was awake on all counts when Wilberforce threw back the draperies to announce the arrival of the day.

"Tis a fine morning, your lordship," the little man chirped. "Did you have a good evening, sir?"

"It was the usual crush, but the wine at least was tolerable." Max's voice was muffled as he slipped the nightshirt over his head. "Was Lady Grassmere feeling better?"

"She had an early night of it, so's I should imagine she'll feel more the thing this morning. She's no longer young, milord, and she's been out quite a bit with Miss Amity."

"I assume Miss Amity retired early. I had hoped to have a few words with her last night," he said as he made his morning ablutions and returned to the bedroom.

"She read for some time in the library, but was not up much past ten of the clock. I think the fawn trousers, milord," Wilberforce said, indicating the clothes already laid out. "And perhaps a Waterfall?" he asked, holding up a snowy cravat hopefully.

"Just something simple," Max suggested, easing into the dark superfine jacket.

"As you say, milord."

Wilberforce sniffed his disapproval and busied himself straightening the room, his face wearing a look of injury. Timing his actions perfectly, he appeared at Max's side with the jewelry box just as his master completed the last of his dressing. Max extracted a garnet ring and a carved gold ring then busied himself with the alignment of his watch chain.

 Keeping his head bent and his voice bored, Max asked abruptly, "Will Miss Fraser be meeting with the soldier today?"

"Aye, milord, tis Tuesday," Wilberforce answered without any sign that the question was unusual. He closed the jewelry box and returned it to the dressing room.

While the man was gone, Max congratulated himself on the inspired guess but composed his expression to one of disinterest. Luckily for the valet's peace of mind, he did not see the calculation in the green eyes of his master when he returned.

"The ivory walking stick, Wilberforce," Max requested. When his valet handed it to him, he tapped the knobby top against his cheek, his eyebrows furrowed in question. "I must be aging, old man. I have quite forgot what Miss Amity said as to time and place."

"Never say, milord. You're looking younger by the day," the valet argued. He scratched the sparse white hair on his head, then smiled in triumph. "As I recollect it's the park at half after one of the clock."

Max was afraid of putting the wind up the little man with any more questions. He assumed by the vaguely waving hand of the servant that the park in question was the one two blocks from the townhouse. He thanked the valet and strolled from the room, a wolfish smile on his face. Outside the townhouse his eyes took on the gleam of the hunter as he considered his plans. He would wander off to his club and later in the day take a much-needed bit of exercise.

Just after lunch Max strolled through the gates of the park, his eyes flickering around the area. If he knew his girl, she would be on the less frequented paths, hidden from eyes that might recognize her and report her activities. Pulling his beaver hat low over his eyes, Max moved to the first path that cut to the left along the more overgrown sections of the park. He appeared to stroll without purpose, his ivory walking stick swinging in his hand, but in actual fact he was quartering the area in search of his quarry. Soon his perseverance was rewarded.

Amity sat on a bench in the sun. She was wearing a mint green muslin dress and perched on her red curls was a straw hat with a darker green ribbon tied in a bow against her cheek. Beside her was her abigail and the ever-present Muffin was sprawled at her feet. Leaning against a tree not far from Amity, Max smiled at the pretty picture she made. He was not certain what he had expected to find but it was not this pastoral scene of contentment.

A quick glance at his watch told him he was in good time to observe his ward and he leaned against the trunk of a tree, satisfied for the moment in observing her. He felt no guilt in spying on her; after all he was responsible for her protection. His patience was rewarded for soon she was joined by a young man who walked with the jaunty air of a soldier.

Max's eyes focused on the darkly handsome face of the man and rage such as he had never felt, almost sent him catapulting out of the cover of trees. How dare he accost Amity! Max wanted nothing so much as to horsewhip the man who dared consider his ward a fit prospect for some shabby dalliance. A slight movement caught his eye and, at the sight of the empty sleeve pinned to his jacket, reason calmed the whirling tide of Max's anger.

Why hadn't Honoria mentioned the soldier had only one arm, instead of dwelling on the fact that the man was so handsome and muscular? Now that Max focused he was able to note that the quality of the clothing and the manner of the man was more suited to a servant than some besotted lover. In fact, it was apparent that the man was barely cognizant of Amity but was besotted by his ward's abigail. Honoria could have checked her suspicions before she accused Amity of a gross impropriety.

"Devil take all women!" Max muttered as he left the comfort of the tree to approach the little group. The threesome was much too deep in conversation to notice his arrival but the faithful Muffin raised his head and growled a semblance of a greeting. At the sound, Amity's eyes opened in astonishment.

"Max!" she called in surprise. Her face glowed with welcome, untinged by any sign of guilty distress.

"Greetings, poppet," Max said, bowing to the party.

"Come let me make you known to our good friend, Jason Conway." Amity made the introductions and smiled as her guardian shook hands with Jason, each man eyeing the other warily.

"I was looking for you, my dear," Max. "I thought we might sit in the sunshine and have a comfortable coze."

"What an excellent idea," she said. "Mr. Conway was just leaving but perhaps I might beg a favor and he could accompany Betta back to the townhouse."

"It would be my pleasure, miss," Jason said, jumping at the opportunity. With alacrity he helped the blushing abigail to her feet, then tipped his hat in a jaunty salute. "Your servant, Miss Fraser. Your lordship."

Max watched as the one armed man leaned over the little abigail as he led her back along the path. He turned to Amity and had to grin at her deep sigh of contentment as she followed the disappearing figures, her gaze misty with vicarious enjoyment. Max cleared his throat and she turned to face him, chagrined to have been so caught up in her romantic fancies.

"I'm sorry, Max," she said. "I was just pleased that Betta could have more of a chance to visit with her young man. She doesn't see as much of him as she would like."

"Don't tell me you're setting up as a matchmaker," Max drawled, sitting down on the bench beside the laughing girl.

"He's a wonderful man and just perfect for Betta. I think he will declare himself soon now that his prospects have improved," she answered.

"Perhaps you might enlighten me as to who this young man is and how you have become acquainted with him," Max said. His tone was light but Amity noticed the hint of purpose behind his words. "In fact, my charming baggage, you might consider telling me about the additional servants in the household, not to mention the goat and the ever-so-adorable piglets."

"Oh," said Amity, her eyes widening in surprise at the extent of his knowledge.

"Indeed, my dear." Max leaned against the back of the bench and folded his arms across his chest.

By his attitude, Amity was conscious that he was determined to wait until she had explained and, gulping once, she nodded, acknowledging that it was time to open her budget. She began with her meeting with Jason and the plan she and Betta had concocted to help the returning soldiers. He listened with attention, occasionally interjecting a question.

"You have been busy since your arrival in London. And all the time I thought you were gadding about shopping." Max shook his head in amazement. Amity was running some sort of charity rig to find jobs for returning soldiers while most fashionable ladies of the
ton
were unaware that there was even a need for such action.

"I did go shopping in the beginning, Max," she argued. "But once I gathered my wardrobe there was little to do. As you know I was involved in the running of Beech House and I had begun to feel useless here in town. Now I have much with which to occupy myself. There is always someone in need of a job, or...."

"Don't tell me," Max said, rolling his eyes to the heavens. "There is always someone who needs a home."

She giggled at his expression, then sobered and spoke quite seriously. "I am sorry to have caused you any concern, Max. I would have told you but I was afraid you might not have approved of my enterprise and I did so want to be useful."