The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) (12 page)

"I will not permit you to touch her," she snapped.

"The 'orse is mine!"

"Then I'll buy the bloody horse!" Amity shouted, exasperated beyond all measure.

The sound of applause greeted this salvo and Amity spun around in dismay. Her face flushed in horror as she realized the scene had drawn a crowd of spectators. Although she was mortified, she refused to back down and decided the sooner she finished the business the quicker she could get away. Reaching for her reticule, she tore open the strings and delved inside for some coins.

"How m-much?" she stammered, all too aware of the interested crowd pressing around her.

Seeing the embarrassment on the young girl's face, the crafty owner knew that revenge was close at hand. His face split in a toothy grin, enjoying her discomfort, he extended his grimy hand. "Two pounds," he announced with triumph.

"Well of all the gall," she snapped in returning anger. "You cannot be serious, man."

"Your very words were that the 'orse were a fine animal. She's worth every penny of the price."

"You must have been a highwayman in your younger days, you wretch," Amity muttered. She edged closer, dropping her voice to a coaxing tone. "Look here, good fellow, let's have an end to this haggling. These are all the coins I have with me." Hiding her hand from the ring of spectators, she opened it to give the man a glimpse of the contents. "If you say me nay, I shall leave and you will have on your hands only a half-dead horse. If you agree, I'll put the coins in my reticule and hand you the purse. You can brag to every one that you drove a hard bargain and I shall not gainsay you."

Amity had guessed to a nicety that the man was eager to save face before the crowd. Greed was apparent in his squinty eyes and he licked his lips once before nodding his head with a jerky movement. On cue, Amity jammed the coins inside the purse and shaking her head in chagrin, handed it to the grinning carter. The crowd cheered and her face flushed at once more being the center of their attention.

"Lord love ya, Miss Amity," Betta cried, her face ashen with worry. "How ever are you going to explain this to his lordship?"

Amity gulped at the mention of her guardian but bravely shrugged away her concern. "I shall tell him the horse followed me home."

She watched the carter free the horse from her traces and then loop a dirty rope through the halter. She stepped forward and extended her gloved hand to accept the lead rope.

" 'Er name's Guinevere," the man said, guffawing.

"I would have guessed as much."

Amity turned to lead the horse away and the crowd cheered once more, shouting words of encouragement which made her blush. Raising her chin, she started down the street calling to Betta and Muffin as she went. She had gone a short way when she heard a squeal from her abigail and turned to the girl who was frozen in her tracks, a look of horror suffusing her face.

"Lawks, miss!" Betta hissed. "It's his lordship."

"It needed only that," Amity muttered.

She groaned, wondering if it were possible to disappear off the face of the earth. There was nothing for it then but to brazen it out. She turned her head just as her guardian's carriage drew abreast of her. The window was down and Max, his green eyes flashing under narrowed lids, was framed in the opening.

"And where are you off to with your merry little band?" Max drawled.

Amity gritted her teeth at his bantering tone and raised her chin with great dignity. Perhaps the impression she hoped to give was slighty diminished when the mare stumbled but she kept her eyes fixed to a spot above her guardian's head and pretended she had noticed nothing amiss. "I am for home," she said.

"Can I assume you are accompanied by a new addition to our happy household?"

"Yes, milord. I have just purchased the mare."

"Plans for a stud farm?" he asked, then his eyebrows bunched and he shook his head in negation of the fanciful idea.

"She needed a home," Amity said.

"So it would seem." Max, his face a bland mask, stared at the horse, the abigail and the mangy dog. "Mayhap in your busy schedule you might find time to have a brief chat with me in the library? I shall, of course, await your pleasure," Max said, his tone a stream of ice. "In the meantime perhaps I might be of some service. Lewis?"

The footman leaped to the ground and hurried to the open window of the carriage. "Aye, milord."

"I realize it is much to ask but if you will be so kind as to relieve Miss Fraser of her enchanting prize, I would be most appreciative."

"With pleasure, milord," Lewis said, trying to keep his mouth from twitching into a grin.

"Take, eh..." Max paused, cocking an inquiring eyebrow at Amity.

"Guinevere," Amity snapped, tired of the game.

"A noble name indeed," Max intoned. "Take the Lady Guinevere around to the mews and ask Dobson to do what he can. Now unless there is something more that I can do, I shall be off. Good day, Miss Fraser."

Max raised the carriage window and tapped on the roof with his walking cane. He had one more glimpse of the odd little tableau before the carriage jerked away from the scene. It was just as well since it was only a moment before he could no longer stem the rolling laughter that welled up in his chest. He laughed until his eyes were streaming as he remembered more and more details of Amity's disgraceful conduct.

"Good Lord, was there ever such a child?" he asked aloud when he could catch his breath.

He had been returning from a visit to Sweet’s Racing Club when his carriage was held up by the crowd of spectators surrounding the dilapidated cart. He had paid little attention until the footman Lewis had alerted him to the fact that the center of the turmoil was his ward. Fury had been uppermost in his mind but, as he watched and listened to the contretemps, the humor of the situation broke through his anger.

As the scene unfolded before him, he had resolved not to interfere unless he found the going too heavy for Amity to handle. He was curious how she would get herself out of such a difficult spot especially when he heard the man demand two pounds. By the look on Amity's face, it was apparent that she did not have that much. He had watched the low-voiced colloquy and wondered what she had done to convince the man to give her the horse. He must remember to ask her when she appeared in the library.

As the carriage pulled up before the townhouse, Max composed himself and managed to exit the conveyance with the proper dignity although he suspected that behind his back, John Coachman would be grinning. He mentioned to Putnam that he would be awaiting Miss Fraser in the library.

Once behind his desk he chuckled anew wondering how Dobson would deal with the Lady Guinevere. The head groom prided himself on the bloodlines of the horses in Max's stables and he suspected Dobson would be outraged at the presence of the pathetic nag.

He must discourage Amity's tendency to bring home strays. The mongrel Muffin was unprepossessing enough but now he was saddled with a carter's half-dead mare. Even Betta was another of Amity's charity cases. After a week of service his ward had come to ask if she might keep the girl on. When Max indicated his approval of the servant, Amity admitted to the subterfuge involved in her hiring. She explained the girl's history and he, having had a chance to study the abigail, agreed that she had been unfairly accused of theft. Although not well pleased with the scheme, Max had capitulated in the face of Amity's honest confession. Besides, as his ward was prone to say, "Betta needed a home."

While he waited for Amity in the library, Max tried to compose his thoughts in order to give a suitable lecture to the minx. He should berate her for her behavior since he had been at such pains to stress his wish for her to adopt a ladylike manner, but thinking back upon the scene, it amazed him that although Amity had been furious she had conducted herself with great dignity. Despite the fact she had been haggling like some raddled fishwife, he had seen nothing vulgar in her manner; all in all she had appeared every inch the lady.

He remembered the evening when he had discussed marriage with his longtime friend Devereaux. He winced as he recalled his plans for acquiring the perfect lady for his wife. In Honoria he thought he had found all the qualities one might ask for in a bride. And yet Amity, in her way, was also a lady. Perhaps he had been in too great a hurry in deciding to declare for Honoria. It showed that one was never too old to learn. He would bide his time for the nonce. He still expected to offer for Honoria but it did no good to rush his fences when he was feeling some confusion . First he would see Amity settled. Time enough after that to resolve his own situation.

Chapter Seven

Amity sat on a bench in the sun. A book was spread open on her lap, pillowed on the sprigged muslin skirts. A straw bonnet was perched on her red curls and the ever-present Muffin was sprawled at her feet. Beside her was her abigail, hands busy sorting a lap full of wildflowers.

"It's been a busy week, Betta," Amity said. "You've done a wonderful job, you know."

"It was just a matter of talking to people," Betta said. Her face was flushed with pleasure at her mistress' words. "You know how I love to chatter."

"How many do you think the runners will take?"

"Aimsley said he would consider taking on four men. I was hoping for more but he said as how he would have to see how this batch worked out." Betta picked up one of the flowers she had gathered, her fingers stroking the petals as she talked. "It was a brilliant idea to think of the Bow Street Runners, Miss Amity."

"Well, it seemed logical since it's so much like the army." She sighed, turning a page of the book in her lap. She frowned down at the print, not really seeing the letters. "There are so many men out of work, Betta, and it seems like it is taking forever."

"Lawks, miss, we've already placed twenty men and that's not even countin' the four today. And," she said, her voice quivering with excitement, "I've made friends with a woman who works for the Duke of Clarence."

"You never!" Amity said, clapping her hands in excitement. "Holding out on me, you wretched girl!"

Betta giggled and hid her laughter behind a raised hand. "It jest happened this morning and I haven't had a moment to tell you. I was at the market and we got to jabberin'. Just friendly like. When she told me where she worked you could have blown me over with a feather. I asked if she could get away for tea some day and she agreed."

"Just imagine," Amity cooed. "The duke must have an enormous staff. There should be plenty of places available."

"Here comes Mr. Conway." Betta's voice was an excited whisper and Amity noted the becoming blush of color that dotted each cheek.

Jason Conway looked far different from the threadbare soldier they had first met. He was dressed in a black suit with a plain white shirt and well polished shoes. He strode with a jaunty air; the cloth cap covering his head was cocked over his sparkling brown eyes. Approaching the bench, he snatched off his cap before bowing to the ladies.

"Good day to ye, Miss Fraser, and to you also, Miss Betta."

Amity was amused that Jonas gave her only a cursory glance before his eyes shifted for a more thorough perusal of her abigail. Betta played with the flowers in her lap, her flaming cheeks a sign of her awareness of the young man. Muffin raised his head, giving a low whining sound and the young man dropped to one knee to greet the dog.

"Allo, old beastie," he crooned, scratching between Muffin's ears. "Feels good, don't it, old boy?"

"You're sounding quite chipper, Jonas," Amity said. "All is well with you?"

The young man scrambled to his feet, brushing the dog hairs from his jacket. "Oh, aye, Miss Fraser. Mr. Burgess has been very good to me and I'm that happy in my work." Although he spoke to Amity, she had the feeling that he was directing every word to her companion. "The importer's office is large and there's much room for advancement. After only a few weeks, he has taken a shine to me. Says I have a good head for figures, miss, if you'll pardon me boasting."

"You'll go far, Jonas. I have great faith in you. Now here is the latest set of recommendations and some money for clothing," she said, handing him a bulky envelope which he kissed with a great show of reverence before slipping inside his jacket. "Make sure the men are scrubbed and wearing something suitable before they go to see Aimsley. He's willing to take four men on as runners."

"Cooee! You are a proper wonder!" Jonas said, his mouth flashing in a wide grin of pleasure.

"Far from it, I fear. Your accolades are misplaced since Betta was responsible for convincing Aimsley to hire on the men."

Jonas turned to the abigail. His face held an expression of wonderment as he stared at the modestly bent head. He coughed and Betta raised her face, staring back at him with eyes alight with pleasure. "I and my friends are most grateful for your help, Miss Betta."

"Twere nothing, Mr. Conway. I am conscious of how it feels to be in desperate straits," she said.

"To think, you went to Aimsley yourself. You're a brave one, Miss Betta."

Amity sighed at the romantic pair. She could tell that a genuine liking had sprung up between them in just the short time they had been working together. She hoped for Betta's sake that Jonas would prove to be a steadfast suitor for the girl's affection. She let the twosome chatter for several minutes but after glancing at her lapel watch, Amity coughed to bring them back to the business at hand.

"I have arranged to have one of our footmen collect used clothing at some of the larger houses each week. The ladies of my acquaintance are quite pleased to feel they are doing their part for a worthwhile cause."

"There's plenty of men that will be pleased to have the clothes. They're not all that particular about who wore them last. Here's a list of the men that'll be coming to work for Mr. Putnam come Friday. I've vetted them all and they're good, trustworthy lads."

"The last batch worked out quite well. Dobson suggested young Henry stay on but the boy wants to work somewhere in the country," Amity said. "Well I guess that's all for this week. We'll see you next Tuesday."