The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) (19 page)

Lissa, who’d been staring at Araminta, jerked her head back to look at Ralph. “What do you mean, just disappeared?”

“Just that. Teddy went to London. He intended to choose a betrothal ring and to make arrangements so he could ask Miss Bella to marry him when he returned. But he got back to discover their house empty and the family gone. He could never discover where. It was as if they’d never existed.”

“I’ve never heard anything so extraordinary. And she never wrote to say where they’d gone? There was no forwarding address?”

“Nothing. Teddy tried everything to elicit information. It was the strangest thing. Now, five years later, Miss Araminta looks to be the one to at last mend his broken heart.”

***

A
raminta was very pleased with the intensity of Lord Ludbridge’s gaze. Even after that simpering harp player, Miss Shrew—or whatever her name was, though she certainly resembled a shrew with that unfortunate nose—started her infernal strumming, which everyone else seemed to think divine, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He really was the most charming young man she’d met in two seasons. He was tall and well made with a strong jaw and a delicate mouth. It seemed everyone liked Lord Ludbridge, too.

Going back to see her Mama had not been the tragedy she’d thought it for it was clear how much His Lovely Lordship had missed her. As for herself, she could not wait to kiss that mouth. In fact, before the week was out, she would do it. The time had come to get matters moving.

Lord Ludbridge offered her his arm when the assembly rose for refreshments. With a coy glance, Araminta murmured her thanks and was rewarded with a most gratifying smile. Her heart fluttered with pleasure and she gave his arm a little squeeze. Yes, he really was a most handsome and agreeable gentleman. Titled and rich enough. Indeed, Lord Ludbridge was the answer to all her difficulties.

“Ralph, good to see you!”

Araminta turned at Lord Ludbridge’s warm tones and was horrified to find herself confronting her escort’s brother in company with her half-sister. Mortifying was that their hostess, Lady Milton, who materialized from behind the harpist, immediately exclaimed over the resemblance between the girls.

Mr. Tunley had already opened his mouth but Araminta interrupted quickly. “There is no family connection. I am Lord Partington’s daughter and Miss Hazlett is—”

“My grandfather was a country solicitor from Hampshire,” Larissa murmured.

“Hampshire? I know that part of the world. And your father?”

Araminta felt as panicked as Larissa looked but Mr. Tunley changed the subject, smoothly. “I am impressed by our entertainers tonight. You have put together an excellent program, Lady Milton.”

For a moment, Araminta thought he’d saved them from any further uncomfortable questions, but the panic she’d felt must have gone deeper than she’d thought, for all of a sudden she felt the room closing in on her. She flicked open her fan and began a vigorous attempt to circulate the air but the heat of the dozens of bodies was too oppressive for such meager measures.

“Excuse me—” she began before she grasped at Lord Ludbridge’s arm, her legs buckled and darkness closed in.

***

A
ramina came to on a royal-blue velvet chaise longue in Lady Milton’s sitting room surrounded by her hostess, her chaperone and—as good a reason as if she could have come up with the idea of fainting, herself—Lord Ludbridge.

“What happened?” Despite feeling thick-headed and dazed, she was delighted at the expression of concern on Lord Ludbridge’s face.

“My dearest Miss Partington, it would seem the close air was too much for you. How do you feel now?” Lord Ludbridge, who was kneeling on the red and gold carpet at her side, gently patted her hand.

She fluttered her eyelashes and he cleared his throat and released her hand, Araminta coloring prettily. At least, that was the effect she was confident she achieved, for he looked suitably entranced.

After a sly exchange of smiles, Miss Monks and Lady Milton excused themselves and discreetly took a turn about the room, stopping to chat in confidential voices by the window at the far end, which allowed Araminta and His Lordship a little privacy.

“I think I can sit up now,” Araminta told him uncertainly, adopting the frailness of an invalid. He immediately snaked an arm about her shoulders to help her into a comfortable sitting position.

“Goodness, I can’t imagine what came over me. You are very good to have looked after me so well. What a kind man you are. I’m sure you must be the kindest of all your brothers.”

Indeed, he did seem a very kind man, and a very kind man who was clearly entranced by her was a very pleasant lifelong prospect.

“Ralph is known as the tenderhearted one of us all.” Lord Ludbridge appeared bashful as he said this.

“Surely not as tenderhearted as you, my lord.” She was about to expand upon this theme when she had a flash of inspiration. With a sigh, she added, “I’m so sorry he’s forced to work for that wicked Lord Debenham, about whom all those terrible rumors are swirling. I noticed that your brother was at the recital with Miss Hazlett. I do wish he’d warn Miss Hazlett about his employer.”

“Miss Hazlett?” Lord Ludbridge looked confused. “I cannot imagine why some imagine the young lady resembles you. I’ve never met one to rival your beauty.”

Araminta smiled coyly. “You are too kind, Lord Ludbridge. But I’m worried that your brother is showing perhaps undesirable interest in Miss Hazlett. I saw her spying on Lord Debenham at Vauxhall Gardens the other night.”

“
Spying
on him? What can you mean?”

Araminta adopted a look of uncertainty. “I...I’m not sure. At first, I assumed she must have been spying. She was quite alone, peeping through the window of the supper house he was occupying. Of course, I didn’t know it was him until I was returning with my cousin and sister, and saw Miss Hazlett running down the path. I was afraid for her and about to go to her assistance, when I saw Lord Debenham appear in the doorway. He watched her go and then went inside again.”

Araminta shook her head as if the thought distressed her. “I wasn’t sure what I should do or if I should even say something, but you are such a kind, sensible, reasonable man, Lord Ludbridge, perhaps you could have a word with your brother.”

Lord Ludbridge was clearly shocked. “Surely you were mistaken, Miss Partington.”

“Indeed I was not. I greatly fear that Miss Hazlett has an unhealthy fascination for Lord Debenham. After all, she was alone and completely without a chaperone. I’d hate to think she’d set her sights on someone so unsuitable. And clearly your brother is...fond of her.”

***

A
raminta was congratulating herself on her inspiration when she arrived home midafternoon and waltzed into her bedchamber. Jane, who was laying out her clothes for later that afternoon, glanced up to ask her if the pale white and jonquil sarsnet evening gown would be to her satisfaction, but Araminta ignored her to close the door, loudly.

“I do wish the smell of dinner was not so overwhelming in this house. It never used to be,” she complained. “Oh, and you’ll never guess what happened at Lady Milton’s. I fainted quite away and Lord Ludbridge played the knight errant. I hadn’t planned it at all but it could not have worked better.”

“You fainted, miss? Why, you’ve never fainted in your life before.”

Araminta lowered herself onto the stool at her dressing table and untied her bonnet. “No, I haven’t, have I? Well, it didn’t matter. It was quite fortuitous, for Lord Ludbridge was most concerned and has made his interest plain. I shall want a new trimming on my white silk for Lady Amelia Sedgewick’s ball the day after tomorrow. Do brush my hair for me, Jane. I feel a little odd and I need some soothing. My stomach is not behaving and I think it’s because of all this excitement.”

Obediently, Jane ceased her current task of tidying the bottles on her mistress’s dressing table to attend to Araminta. She picked up the boar-bristle brush and looked at its figured silver back thoughtfully. “I used to soothe my dear mama with long, even brush strokes when she was not herself. Mama had such lovely hair. Fair and fine. She were strong and robust like you, miss, and not one for having fainting spells, or feeling bilious either except...”

After removing the last of Araminta’s hair pins, she began to draw the brush through her mistress’s long, loosened hair.

Araminta, who was feeling unaccountably tired, rested her chin on her hands and closed her eyes. “I do hate the way you don’t finish your sentences, Jane. It’s as if you think I have the energy or inclination to finish them for you. It’s quite rude.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss.”

“Well, finish your story, then. What was your mama’s malady? Perhaps mine is the same and I may learn from it, for I must say, I’ve not been feeling myself the past few days.”

“Just that mama only fainted and threw up into the chamber pot when she was breeding, miss. I thought I shouldn’t say some’at that would sound coarse, Miss, though breedin’s the most natural thing in the world when a pair gets married and starts to ’ave bairns. I should know, bein’ the eldest and bringing up a dozen, for mama would keep havin’ em.”

“Yes, that was coarse, Jane, and I wish you hadn’t said it,” Araminta replied, although not as crossly as she might have, as Jane dutifully continued to brush out her tresses.

Breeding? She nibbled her bottom lip as she considered Jane’s words. Breeding only occurred to married people or those beyond the pale, like Larissa’s mother. It didn’t happen to well-intentioned, virtuous young ladies like herself.

“Turn your head, miss. Why, you are awful pale!”

Jane’s anxious tone broke into Araminta’s growing fear. No, it couldn’t have happened to her. Those hideous few seconds when Araminta had thrown herself upon Sir Aubrey, thinking he was about to ask her to marry him, could not have resulted in her worst nightmare.

It could
not
be happening to her.

Araminta’s encounter had been so very brief and so very unromantic, followed by a humiliation of such proportions she’d had to exorcise the memory of that night from her brain as best she could.

But as a waft of cooking aroma filtered in through the door and her stomach protested to such an extent she had to leap up from her chair and make her way to the chamber pot to be ill once again, she could not discount the possibility.

In fact, the more she thought about the very tiny changes in her body, and the realization that her courses were more than a week late, she had to contemplate the possibility that she, Miss Araminta Partington, was indeed breeding.

And that for the first time in her life she was not equipped with a cunning plan. No, she had not the first idea how she was going to extricate herself from this profoundly horrifying situation.

W
ith no more entertainments to look forward to, or commissions to execute, Lissa slipped, with resignation, back into her old routine. Three days had passed since Lady Milton’s musical afternoon and she’d heard nothing from Ralph.

While her disappointment was acute, she wondered if dull, dreary days were better than being on tenterhooks with regard to the various threats that had hitherto beleaguered her: Cosmo’s uncertain temper, Lord Debenham’s villainy, Araminta’s escapades.

Maybe she should simply accept that attending to the demands of spoiled children was her lot in life.

Of course, such prosaic intentions flew out of the window when she received a parcel which, when opened in the privacy of her tiny bedchamber, revealed a very lovely gown that Araminta was apparently gifting to her.

“I have arranged an invitation for you to attend Lady Grenville’s ball tonight,” she’d written, “and as I realize you may have nothing suitable to wear, and I know how much you want to impress your Mr. Tunley, I wanted to show my appreciation with a new gown.”

Lissa thought it best not to wonder at her motivations. Araminta wanted something but, no doubt, she’d reveal all in good time. But, of course, Lissa could not keep from speculating. Probably, she thought with sinking heart, Araminta was seeking information about Lord Ludbridge now that she’d apparently transferred her interest to him after giving up on Lord Debenham.

Lissa put on the gown and twirled in front of the tiny looking glass in the nursery and the lovely gown of palest green flared about her ankles. She liked the fashions for figured work around the hems and the fact that skirts were fuller this year. The dainty puffed sleeves were tiny and trimmed with small embroidered leaves. What made it most unusual was the crimson sash embroidered with the same leaves.

To Lissa’s surprise, the dress was rather large about the middle, and seemed more Hetty’s size than Araminta’s—which perhaps was the reason Araminta was gifting it to Lissa.

“What are you doing?”

She swung round at the accusatory tone to find Miss Maria advancing through the gloom of the nursery, where the girls were quietly drawing, looking suspiciously at her. “Where did you get that dress?”

“It was...a gift.”

Miss Maria marched up to give it a closer inspection. Lissa saw the gleam of envy in her eye as she fingered the embroidery. “You should be attending to my sisters,” she said, grimly, as she straightened, “not twirling around as if you’re about to go to the next grand ball.” Immediately she brightened, smiling as if she expected Lissa to share in her excitement. “You’ll never guess, Miss Hazlett, but I have been invited to attend Lady Grenville’s soiree tonight. Yes, imagine it! A proper invitation has been delivered for
me
, Miss Maria Lamont, to attend Lady Grenville’s soiree, and I shall be accompanied by Cosmo.”

Lissa, standing on a bare piece of wooden floor in the center of the room, saw the two little girls raise their heads at their sister’s lofty tone while her spirits plummeted. Ralph, it appeared, would also be attending the ball, and Araminta had arranged for Lissa to go. But how was that possible, now?

Tentatively she said, “I’ve also received an invitation. And this new dress.”