Rake's Progress

 

M. C. Beaton
is the author of the hugely successful Agatha Raisin and Hamish Macbeth series, as well as a quartet of Edwardian murder mysteries featuring heroine Lady Rose Summer, the Travelling Matchmaker, Six Sisters and School for Manners Regency romance series, and a stand-alone murder mystery,
The Skeleton in the Closet
– all published by Constable & Robinson. She left a full-time career in journalism to turn to writing, and now divides her time between the Cotswolds and Paris. Visit
www.agatharaisin.com
for more, or follow M. C. Beaton on Twitter: @mc_beaton.

Praise for A House for the Season:

‘The lively tempo, some amusing ripostes and [Beaton's] way with the Regency romance will please devotees.'

Publishers Weekly

‘A witty, charming, touching bit of Regency froth. Highly recommended.'

Library Journal

‘[Beaton] is adept at character portrayal and development . . .
Plain Jane
is sure to delight Regency enthusiasts of all ages.'

Best Sellers

‘Entertaining light romance for fans of the series.'

Booklist

‘A romp of a story . . . For warm-hearted, hilarious reading, this one is a gem.'

Baton Rouge Sunday Advocate

 

Titles by M. C. Beaton

A House for the Season
The Miser of Mayfair
•
Plain Jane
•
The Wicked Godmother
Rake's Progress
•
The Adventuress
•
Rainbird's Revenge

The Six Sisters
Minerva
•
The Taming of Annabelle
•
Deirdre and Desire
Daphne
•
Diana the Huntress
•
Frederica in Fashion

The Edwardian Murder Mystery series
Snobbery with Violence
•
Hasty Death
•
Sick of Shadows
Our Lady of Pain

The Travelling Matchmaker series
Emily Goes to Exeter
•
Belinda Goes to Bath
•
Penelope Goes to Portsmouth
Beatrice Goes to Brighton
•
Deborah Goes to Dover
•
Yvonne Goes to York

The Agatha Raisin series
Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death
•
Agatha Raisin and the Vicious Vet
Agatha Raisin and the Potted Gardener
•
Agatha Raisin and the Walkers of Dembley
Agatha Raisin and the Murderous Marriage
•
Agatha Raisin and the Terrible Tourist
Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death
•
Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham
Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wyckhadden
Agatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryfam
•
Agatha Raisin and the Love from Hell
Agatha Raisin and the Day the Floods Came
Agatha Raisin and the Curious Curate
•
Agatha Raisin and the Haunted House
Agatha Raisin and the Deadly Dance
•
Agatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon
Agatha Raisin and Love, Lies and Liquor
Agatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas Goodbye
Agatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison
•
Agatha Raisin: There Goes the Bride
Agatha Raisin and the Busy Body
•
Agatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns

The Hamish Macbeth series
Death of a Gossip
•
Death of a Cad
•
Death of an Outsider
Death of a Perfect Wife
•
Death of a Hussy
•
Death of a Snob
Death of a Prankster
•
Death of a Glutton
•
Death of a Travelling Man
Death of a Charming Man
•
Death of a Nag
•
Death of a Macho Man
Death of a Dentist
•
Death of a Scriptwriter
•
Death of an Addict
A Highland Christmas
•
Death of a Dustman
•
Death of a Celebrity
Death of a Village
•
Death of a Poison Pen
•
Death of a Bore
Death of a Dreamer
•
Death of a Maid
•
Death of a Gentle Lady
Death of a Witch
•
Death of a Valentine
•
Death of a Sweep
Death of a Kingfisher

The Skeleton in the Closet

Also available
The Agatha Raisin Companion

Being the Fourth Volume of
A House for the Season

m.c. Beaton

 

 

Constable & Robinson Ltd
55–56 Russell Square
London WC1B 4HP
www.constablerobinson.com

First published in the US by St Martin's Press, 1987

This paperback edition published in the UK by Canvas,
an imprint of Constable & Robinson Ltd, 2013

Copyright © M. C. Beaton, 1987

The right of M. C. Beaton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A copy of the British Library Cataloguing in
Publication Data is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-1-78033-308-3 (paperback)
eISBN: 978-1-47210-445-8

Typeset by TW Typesetting, Plymouth, Devon

Printed and bound in the UK

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

Cover design and illustration: www.kathynorrish.com

 

 

 

For Ita Ali, Maria Browne and Jane Wibberley

When late I attempted your pity to move,
What made you so deaf to my prayers?
Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love,
But – why did you kick me downstairs?

ISAAC BICKERSTAFFE

Reputed to be haunted, damned as unlucky, a tall thin town house at Number 67 Clarges Street in London's Mayfair, nonetheless, on that spring day of 1810, looked as if the curse had been lifted and the tide of ill fortune had turned.

It belonged to the Duke of Pelham, who was only dimly aware of its existence. He owned a great deal of other property. The letting of it, and the employing of the staff, was the job of Jonas Palmer, the duke's agent, cheat, bully, and liar. He paid the servants low wages, charged his master higher wages, and slipped the difference into his coat pocket.

The servants, either because they had gained bad reputations – unjustly – or because they stayed at
Number 67 out of loyalty to the other members of the staff, continued to pray for a new tenant every Season. A tenant meant parties, routs, and suppers, and all those festivities meant lashings of good food and tips. They all put their tips in the Vail Box so that, when they had sufficient, they would buy a pub and become independent of the frightful Palmer.

Hard times and resentment of Palmer had welded them together into an odd sort of family. Head of the family was the butler, Rainbird. After him came housekeeper, Mrs Middleton; cook, Angus MacGregor; and, next down the line, the effeminate footman, Joseph. There were a chambermaid, Jenny; a housemaid, Alice; and little Lizzie, the scullery maid. Dave, who had been rescued from his miserable life as a climbing boy by Rainbird, was the pot boy.

On that fine sunny spring day, they were all assembled in the hall, the women crackling with starch and the men in their best liveries. They were awaiting the arrival of a new tenant, and a tenant who showed all the signs of being open-handed.

He was Lord Guy Carlton, younger son of the Earl of Cramworth. He had been fighting in the wars against Napoleon for some time and was being invalided home. Palmer had said sourly that from his letters it appeared my lord had every intention of kicking up his heels and had said he meant to hold many parties.

The optimism of the servants seemed to have
communicated itself to the house and banished the ghosts. The ninth Duke of Pelham had hanged himself there; a murderer had fallen to his death there sometime after killing one of the tenants' daughters. But now the narrow black town house looked fresh and new. Even the two iron dogs chained on the step outside had been polished so hard by Dave that sunlight sparkled on their metal flanks.

Spring flowers decorated the rooms, which smelled pleasantly of beeswax and lavender.

As they gathered in the hall to greet their new, if temporary, master, the servants talked amiably to each other, not observing that rigid caste system of the servants' hall – much more strict than any of the social divisions abovestairs. As soon as Lord Guy arrived, they would remember their places in the pecking order.

Mrs Middleton, spinster daughter of a curate and fallen on hard times – the ‘Mrs' was a courtesy title – smoothed down her best black silk gown with nervous fingers.

‘I do wonder what Lord Guy will be like,' she said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

‘He must have settled in his ways, although he is not married,' said Rainbird, the butler, his sparkling grey eyes set in his comedian's face darting here and there to make sure everything was in order. ‘I looked up the peerage. He is thirty-five, long past sowing his wild oats.'

‘I wonder if he is handsome,' said Alice dreamily.
Alice, the housemaid, was a beautiful blonde, slowmoving and languorous.

‘Eh wish he wasn't bringing his own sarvant,' said Joseph, the footman, in his mincing, affected tones. ‘Strange sarvants cause trouble, if you esk me.'