The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) (9 page)

"Very tasteful, Maxwell," Hester simpered.

"Why thank you, cousin." He spoke louder than usual to cover the chortle of laughter which slipped from his ward's smiling lips.

"And the torn skirts?" Hester asked, leaning forward in her interest.

Max looked blank and there was an uneasy silence for several moments before Amity stepped into the breach.

"How clever of you to notice, Lady Grassmere," she said, trying to remember Max's original plan. "The ragged edges are symbolic."

"Symbolic of what, dear child?" Hester said. "This is all so exciting you see. I must admit I know very little of Scottish customs but I should imagine some of the more unenlightened will ask."

"One might have assumed as much," Amity said, casting her eyes to the ceiling for inspiration. "Well it indicates, that is, it is symbolic of, eh, poverty. Ah yes, poverty."

"Yes?" the old lady asked.

"Do go on, Amity. No need to be missish in the face of Cousin Hester's curiosity," Max said, leaning against the side of a glass-fronted bookcase, arms folded across his chest and his head cocked to the side in great interest. His ward narrowed her eyes and he suspected for his own peace of mind that in future he would be wiser not to goad her.

Amity chuckled at the wary expression that crossed Max's face and she determined to give a good accounting of herself. She was so concentrated on impressing her guardian with her inventiveness that she forgot the presence of Lady Grassmere.

"My family dates back many centuries and over the years many customs have changed but always there is an echo of the old days. The laird called all the clan together when his daughter came of age. For days they celebrated with fairs and games and, uh, hunting," Amity invented. Her eyes flashed as she became caught up in her own narrative. "At midnight the entire clan would stand in a circle and the proud father would lead his daughter to the center. Flagons of wine would be raised in a toast to the marriageable girl. Then, in order to prove that she was a maiden of exceptional beauty, he would rend her garments until she stood before the clan in nothing except the veil of her hair."

As Lady Grassmere took in the significance of the girl's words, her wrinkled cheeks flamed with color then whitened to an ashy pallor. Amity was immediately contrite, dismayed that her need to revenge herself on Max had led her to so distress the older woman. She ran forward and dropped to her knees before Lady Grassmere.

"I beg your pardon for my ill-considered words, milady. I have a wicked tongue and should be beaten for my remarks."

The tone of sincerity in the girl's voice did much to soothe the older woman's sense of ill usage. Her face returned to a more normal color and she patted Amity's cheek to indicate she appreciated the girl's concern.

"My apologies for my tasteless joke, Lady Grassmere. It was nothing but a bold fiction. In actual fact the torn skirts indicate that a young girl should not be judged by her wealth but the sweetness and generosity of her nature."

"That is charming," Cousin Hester said in relief. "Sentiments I can with whole heart approve. Now stand up and turn around so that I might see the full effect."

Amity did as requested and earned a wink of encouragement from Max who also was feeling slightly ashamed of his outrageous behavior. He had been much touched by his ward's immediate awareness that she had gone too far. He had noticed that despite Cousin Hester's fluttery ways and old-fashioned ideas, Amity never gave her anything but the utmost respect. Her laughter earlier had not been at the expense of the old lady but rather her enjoyment of the jest. There was much to be lauded about the girl, despite her impetuous nature. A ward to be proud of.

As the sounds of arrival echoed from the hall, Max gathered Amity and Lady Grassmere to receive their guests.

"Egad, Honoria, whatever are you about with such a paltry toilette?" Percy Waterston asked, raising his quizzing glass to stare at his sister.

"Shut up, you ninny," Honoria hissed, brushing out the wrinkles in her skirt. "I wanted a simpler ensemble tonight."

"Simple, ma dear," Percy drawled. "It verges on the bucolic."

Honoria wore a gown of heavy blue silk which was patterned in the Grecian style. The classic design did little to enhance her short, rounded figure. It had always been her custom to wear filmy materials that floated around her to emphasize her petiteness. Aware at twenty-six that she was no longer a debutante, she chose dresses with a youthful prettiness and was partial to ruffles and bows.

"Don't be nasty or I shant loan you another cent and you'll be forced to go to the moneylenders," she snapped.

Honoria's voice was shrill since she did not feel she was at her best in such a plain, unadorned gown. When she had first thought of the idea for Amity's dress she had imagined that the simplicity of her own apparel would further emphasize the gaucheness of the young girl. Now she was not so sure.

"Don't dawdle, Percy," she said, digging her sharp nails into the satin sleeve covering his arm.

"I say, we are in a wretched mood tonight." Percy led her toward the staircase, nodding to several acquaintances. "I can see nursemaiding the little ward has put you quite out of temper. I myself am most anxious to meet the delightful Miss Fraser. One senses the unleashed talons which are ruining my jacket are intended instead for the little deb,
n'est pas
?”

"Don't be boring, brother dear." Her voice was apathetic to indicate her disinterest but her eyes flashed for a moment much to Percy's amusement. "I have quite enjoyed jauntering about town with the girl. She's been bowled over by my offer of friendship since she knows no one else in town. But two weeks of ingenuous enthusiasm is more than I can abide. Besides I have nothing in common with the chit."

"Nothing but Max," came the acid retort.

Honoria dug her nails into her brother's arm, all the time smiling to those around them. It was a smile that never reached her eyes. "It is time and enough to be about my own affairs. I am positive Max is on the brink of making me an offer and, if you know what's good for you, you'll do what you can to encourage the match. It would be a pity if the rest of the
ton
discovered that your pockets were to let."

"Too cruel, sister mine. If I weren't in such desperate straits I would let Max discover what sort of woman he is about to marry."

Percy clenched his teeth, knowing that he could never risk such a satisfying revenge. It was to his best interest that Honoria marry Max. Unlimited advantages would be available through his connection to Lord Kampford. The duns would cease hounding him; the opera dancers would once more seek his patronage. His sister's gasp brought him back to the reality of the moment and he turned to see a false smile of greeting stretched across her face.

Amity had been waiting for the arrival of Honoria and had not missed the momentary shock as the woman took in her improvised gown. She extended her gloved hand in a graceful almost regal gesture as the woman approached.

"At last, Honoria, I have been breathless for your arrival," Amity said, adopting the woman's artificially bored tones.

"La, sweet child, how gracious you are this evening." Honoria smiled although her pale blue eyes were narrowed like a cat's. "You look quite
ravissant
."

"Thank you for your kind words," Amity said. She was surprised that she did not feel as awkward as usual beside the elegant Miss Waterston. On closer observation, she realized that Honoria did not look as striking as she had expected. She had always been envious of the breathtaking ensembles the woman wore but this evening her gown was quite plain. Perhaps she had not wanted to steal any of Amity's attention and in her envy Amity had done the woman an injustice by suspecting her of deliberately sabotaging her wardrobe.

"How sweet to wear your hair
au naturel
, just as if you knew nothing about the current mode."

Honoria's sugary words dispelled any doubt for Amity of the woman's good will. They were now at daggers drawn. She smiled, speaking carefully for the benefit of her guardian. "I appreciate such a compliment from someone of your vast experience."

Honoria's eyes flashed with anger but without another word, she turned to Max, her eyelashes fluttering as she tapped him coyly on the arm with her fan. "And you, good sir, look quite handsome this evening."

Amity wanted nothing more than to listen to the exchange between Honoria and her guardian but mindful of her social duties turned to the elegant dandy who was waiting to be received. When she realized he was Honoria's brother, her smile of welcome faltered.

"No need to fear, my pet," Percy drawled. "I can see now why my sister has been in such a state. I have nothing but admiration for anyone who can put Honoria out of countenance."

Amity giggled as he gave her an extravagant leg. Seeing the response in his twinkling eyes, she relaxed her guard and spoke with ease to him. "I did not know Honoria had a brother."

"It is a fact that she would just as soon forget," he said, grimacing in the direction of his sister. "Perhaps you might save me a dance later and I can tell you the sad story of my life. It is very droll, my angel."

Percy turned to speak to Max and Amity awaited the next introduction from Lady Grassmere. She was impressed with her chaperone's grasp of names and titles. The little woman never hesitated, her voice a sibilant whisper as she smiled a greeting to each newcomer. Soon the majority of the guests had arrived and Max indicated that it was time to open the ball.

For Amity the entire evening whirled together in a kaleidoscope of colors and scenes. The rich satins and silks, the glitter of diamonds and gems too numerous to recall, the glorious music all joined together in her mind, a memory she would hold dear all the days of her life. But the moments most precious to her were the ones when Max danced with her. She could see in his face that he was proud of her and her heart swelled with gratitude that it was so. There was nothing she wanted so much as to please her guardian. She felt sharp disappointment when he returned her to Lady Grassmere and disappeared in the crowd.

Max fought back a yawn of boredom and glanced around the ballroom to see if he had done his duty by the dowagers and young girls. He caught sight of Amity who was talking to Cousin Hester. His eyes kindled with warmth as the girl's mobile mouth broke into an impish grin. He wondered what mischief she was up to now. All in all he was well pleased by her behavior this evening. Many a starchy tabby had whispered that she found Amity a very taking child. More to the point, Max had seen the gleam in several of the gentlemen's eyes as they took in the fresh beauty of the girl. He would soon have her off his hands, he thought, wondering why that should give him little pleasure.

The evening was going well and now he was free for the moment to pursue his own intentions. It took him little time to locate Honoria and less to cut her away from the men who surrounded her. Giving her his arm, he led her around the room until he was able to find a seat for her in a quiet window embrasure.

"Would you like something, my dear?" he asked as she arranged her skirts on the red brocade cushion.

"Why I have everything a young girl would require," Honoria said.

She bit off a coy giggle as she noticed his eyes wandering to his ward. His smile widened as the red-haired chit reached up to adjust the wreath of flowers on her head. Honoria's jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed in thought until her mouth turned up in a smile that had little to do with humor.

"Why, Max, you must be congratulated," Honoria said.

"Congratulated?" Max said, turning to her in surprise.

"How ever did you convince your ward not to wear that awful dress?" She kept her eyes wide with innocence although a shaft of pleasure shot through her at the guilty start from her companion. She lowered her voice just enough to indicate she was taking him into her confidence. "Your little ward is so impetuous. Argue though I might, I could not convince her that she was making the wrong choice."

"Wrong choice, my dear?" Max asked.

In a startled gesture, Honoria raised her gloved hand to her opened mouth. She dropped her eyes as though overcome with shame that she had spoken out of turn. She held the pose for a second then raised her head, her eyes anguished at the thought she had betrayed Amity. "Forgive me, Max," she said in a whisper. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what, Honoria?" He was confused. He had assumed that the ball gown had been some sort of mistake but now he wondered if he should have questioned his ward further.

Honoria placed her hand on Max's sleeve and sighed in resignation. "I would never have spoken to you but since Amity is your ward I know you will want to curb any tendencies she might have that would make her unsuitable for the marriage mart."

"I would appreciate anything you can tell me. I have always known you had a fine eye for the proprieties and I must admit to a certain puzzlement. What transpired at the dressmakers to have resulted in the gown I saw earlier in the evening?"

"Was the gown dreadful?" Honoria asked as if afraid to hear the answer.

"The gown did not suit the child," Max answered.

"Oh la! I knew it would be thus. At least I was afraid it might be," Honoria said in quick recovery. "You see, my dear, our visits to Madame Bertoldi did not go at all well."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Max asked in surprise. In the two weeks that Honoria and Amity had been going around town there had not been the slightest hint that things were not as they should be. "Was the seamstress inadequate?"

Honoria caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked up at Max through a veil of lashes. "It must have been all my fault, Max," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Max's heart was not impervious to the distress of the beautiful woman. He took her hand and raised it to his lips and when he spoke his voice was caressing. "Come, my dear. You must know that I would never find fault with you. In my eyes, you are perfection."