The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) (16 page)

"Good afternoon, Max. Won't you join us?" she said, hoping she sounded cool although her pulses were still racing at his sudden appearance. "Bancroft was bidding me goodbye."

"Forever?" came the lugubrious response.

"Naturally not. He will be calling to take me for a drive tomorrow." Turning to Bancroft she was relieved to see that he had regained his composure. "Shall we say two?"

"It will be my pleasure," he agreed. Then before the startled Max could do anything more than wish him good day, Bancroft had exited the room.

"Devil take it, Amity." Max stormed across the carpet to glare down at the smiling girl. "Have you accepted the man or haven't you?"

"I have not exactly accepted him," she began, dropping her gaze at sight of the glittering green eyes which threatened mayhem at the very least.

"Then how dare you let him lay hands on you. He will have a thorough disgust of you and your reputation will be in shreds," Max sneered.

"It was only a kiss, Max. He did not even muss my gown."

"If that is your criterion for modest behavior, you are well out there, my girl." Max dug his hands in his hair, though he acknowledged the fact that he would much prefer to throttle the girl. "Many a deb has found her virtue gone without the slightest damage done to her apparel. In fact some prefer it that way," he finished crudely, wanting to shock her.

"Seems most uncomfortable," was the irrepressible Amity's reply. "Besides, Max, it was just an experiment."

"Good Lord!" Max cried, throwing himself in a chair across from the settee. "What will you be up to next, I wonder?"

"I was curious." He gave her a lowering frown and she knew he was none too pleased with her comment. "I have tentatively accepted his offer. I think that I might learn to love him and I thought perhaps if he kissed me I would discover for certain if I could entertain deeper feelings for him."

"And can you?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so," she said, her face thoughtful as she recalled the event. "I liked it very much."

"I see," Max said "And perhaps you might explain what you meant about tentatively accepting his offer."

"I have told him that the single impediment to our marrying is his sister. I do not think that Ophelia approves of me, Max,"

"Is that so important?" he asked in surprise.

"She would be living in the same house with us. Bancroft is fond of her and it would be hurtful if my marrying him should end their relationship." Amity sighed. "When I was growing up my parents did not approve of me. I do not want to repeat that experience."

Looking across at the sad expression of his ward, Max wanted nothing more than to assure her that Ophelia Paige would love her. He wished he could erase the loneliness she had felt as a child and felt guilty that he also had contributed to that feeling of rejection. Wishing he could go to her and hold her against all the hurts of the world, he tightened his hands on the arms of the chair and spoke quietly. "I think you show good sense, poppet."

"Thank you, sir," she said, dimpling prettily. "I have invited Bancroft to bring his sister Ophelia to tea on Monday. If she does approve then we will announce our engagement."

Max noted Amity's glowing face and felt a sadness creep into his heart. Though he might not think Bancroft the most exciting of men, he was quite suitable and it seemed that his ward might even be falling in love with the man. Soon he could return to the joys of a bachelor household. For some reason the thought did little to alleviate his feeling of depression.

Chapter Nine

"Some punch, Honoria?" Max asked as they strolled off the dance floor.

"That would be splendid," she admitted, waving her fan before her face. "I must admit that it is warm in here this evening. You would think Theresa would know better than to have such a squeeze this late in the season."

After a glass of punch, they wandered around talking to friends until they reached the open doors to the terrace. By mutual consent they stepped outside where the temperature was somewhat cooler. Max inhaled deeply, refreshed by the clean air, not heavy with the scent of mingling perfume as the stale atmosphere inside.

"You must feel quite carefree this evening. Where are Lady Grassmere and your little ward?"

It amused Max that Honoria had taken to calling Amity his "little" ward, since the girl was a good head taller than she. When he had arranged for Honoria to mentor Amity he had hoped that they would become good friends. He still did not understand quite what had gone wrong in their relationship but he suspected that neither woman liked the other. In his presence there had been nothing except the most polite of exchanges, however the general lack of warmth and intimacy between them convinced him of the true state of their feelings.

In truth, Amity had never said an unkind word about Honoria. Granted she had not been fulsome in her praises and that was a fair indication of the extent of her friendship with the older woman. Amity was nothing if not enthusiastic about her friends and was more inclined to discuss her relationship with her abigail Betta than any commerce she had with Honoria.

"Cousin Hester was feeling unwell and Amity thought they might both benefit from an evening at home," Max replied. "I have been pleased that her come out has been such a success."

"Yes, most have accepted her without question, thanks to your sponsorship of the child. I saw her last night at the Duchess of Landglower's affair. Amity looked quite charming."

"She has gained some sophistication since her arrival in London, my dear," Max said, his eyes alight with pleasure. “I owe much of this polish to your credit for being such an example of the ideal in feminine perfection."

"Why thank you, Max," Honoria said, fluttering her eyes above her fan. "I have, of course, tried to help the sweet child where I could. One can see the enormous amount of money she has spent on her wardrobe by the elegant gown she was wearing last evening. Perhaps it may have been a trifle sophisticated for a girl of her age but I am sure no one will think that she is too fast."

Max cocked an eyebrow at the comment but when he glanced at Honoria, she raised guileless eyes to him. He turned the words over in his mind and wondered if she was being intentionally critical. He led her down the stone steps to the formal garden his mind busy with the puzzle.

As he looked back over the past weeks he had to admit that Honoria had made many such comments about Amity. They were always disguised as compliments but there was a knife edge of disparagement implied. Now that he thought about it, although Amity had never said a word against her, Honoria had been critical of his ward. It was born in on him that it was almost as if she was the one who had taken a dislike to Amity and she was doing all she could to denigrate her in Max's eyes. He found it difficult to believe this since he had always thought of Honoria as the epitome of gracious, ladylike behavior.

Max was oblivious to the moonlight playing on the garden paths. He walked beside Honoria, his mind intent on his confusion until he was reminded of her presence by a gentle tug on his sleeve.

"Would you mind if we sat for a moment, Max? My poor feet are quite worn from dancing."

"My apologies, my dear," Max said.

He was contrite that he should have been so little aware of her discomfort. Taking out his handkerchief, he rubbed it over the stone bench and then held her hand as she positioned herself on the seat. Staring down at her, he was conscious of her beauty. The moonlight gave a metallic sheen to the blond curls and a softness to her white skin. Tonight he was less affected by her loveliness than usual, perhaps because his mind had been questioning whether he knew her as well as he assumed. Troubled by his disloyal thoughts, he sat down on the bench and turned to gaze at her.

"Do you like Amity?" he asked, surprised at his own words.

"Why, Max, what a question," Honoria said, waving her fan as an indication of her discomposure. "Of course, I am fond of your little ward."

"I have wondered and felt some disquiet." Max pursed his lips, debating how he could find an answer to his confusion. "I suspect a coolness between you and I am concerned that Amity has given you reason to feel hostility toward her."

"Hostility, Max? Why I don't know what to make of your words," Honoria said. She stared at him with injured eyes, then lowered her lids and bent her head. She closed her fan with a brittle snap and tapped the sticks against the palm of her hands. She was silent for several moments then spoke, her words barely audible in the quiet night air. "Oh, Max, it is only that sometimes I worry others may take advantage of your goodness of spirit."

Max felt a tug of amusement at her words. He had never considered that he had a goodness of spirit, quite the contrary in fact. He arranged things so that he was put to the least amount of disorder in his life.

"Come now, my dear," he said. "No one has taken advantage of my goodwill."

"If you say so," she said, sounding not at all convinced.

His forehead wrinkled at her tone and he narrowed his eyes in contemplation of her still bent head. "I can see you are troubled about something, Honoria. Please do me the courtesy of telling me your thoughts so that I may persuade you that there is nothing to worry about." As she remained silent, Max felt annoyance at her reticence. "Is it Amity? Has she committed some unpardonable breach of propriety?"

Honoria raised her head and her eyes were wide with apprehension. He smiled as she batted her lashes in a pretty picture of hesitation. At his encouragement, she brushed out her skirts and then crossed her hands in her lap and straightened her shoulders.

"I have been so hesitant to speak," she began.

"Do you see me as some kind of ogre?" he chided her.

"Of course not, Max. You know how much I regard you. It is difficult sometimes to know when to tell tales. I would not say a word now, except for my concern for darling Amity."

"I appreciate your situation, Honoria. Please continue."

"It was several weeks ago when I chanced to see your ward. I was driving with Percy to see our man of business. The street was crowded and our carriage had come to a stop when I looked up and saw Amity, all alone, in conversation with a man."

"She was alone?" Max asked in surprise.

Honoria swallowed as if hesitant to answer. "Well, yes, except for her abigail. I assumed Lady Grassmere would be nearby but though I searched the street I could find no evidence of her presence."

"I see. So Amity and this young man were in conversation." At Honoria's nod, he asked, "Who was the gentleman?"

"It was no one of my acquaintance." She hesitated for a moment and then blurted out, "In fact, the man was no gentleman at all. He was a soldier."

"A soldier!" Max snapped out the words, his mind recalling the references of the servants to a soldier.

"Oh, Max, I would have spoken sooner if I had thought there was anything unusual going on. Amity is forever speaking to people, persons quite beneath notice in most cases. But of course it is her habit and although I have spoken to her many times, she has refused to change her ways. But in any case I assumed it was a chance meeting between the handsome young man and your ward."

"He was young?" Max asked, his brow furrowed in mounting anger.

"Yes. About the same age as Amity. A very muscular sort of man with a dark tanned face. I can well imagine how a young girl might be caught under the spell of a man in uniform. It would seem most romantic to an untutored girl such as Amity."

"A chance meeting does not a romance make," Max cautioned. "I shall speak to her on this point of etiquette. I am well aware of her penchant for talking to everyone. She is so very trusting, you know and has little knowledge of the evils of the city."

"That is why I have been so concerned," Honoria said, her voice unctuous. "I was intending to speak to her again on that very subject but I quite forgot. I would have thought no more about the incident except on Tuesday last I was astonished to discover Amity in the park with the very same young man."

"What?" Max shouted, leaping to his feet in his astonishment.

"La, my dear. I am sure you would not want this contretemps common knowledge." she patted the bench and he reseated himself, holding his temper under tight rein.

"Honoria, I do not mean to sound censorious but I feel you should have spoken to me earlier about this matter."

"Please don't be angry with me, Max." She fumbled in her reticule for a lacy handkerchief and raised it to her eyes in her distress. "I was torn between my duty to you and my friendship with your little ward."

"I beg of you, my dear, not to become distressed. I should never have spoken so to you. You are in no way at fault. Just tell me what you saw." In truth, Max wanted to shake the information out of his companion and was appalled that he should be so little caring of her sensibilities. Fury at Amity's behavior and concern for her welfare vied for precedence in his mind. He waited with little patience for Honoria to continue.

"I was walking in the park near your townhouse with Roger Danforth when I looked up and to my astonishment your ward was sitting on a bench talking to her soldier. He was no longer in uniform but I recognized him immediately. Amity was so deep in conversation that she did not see me but I almost wish she had. Then I might have had an opportunity to warn her concerning such behavior." She reached out and patted Max on the arm. "I know what hopes you have for the girl in regard to Bancroft Paige. Both he and his sister are high sticklers for all the niceties of etiquette. If word came to their ears concerning Amity's indiscreet meeting with a young man in a public park, I cannot imagine what might happen."

"I can. It would put paid to her chances," Max answered. "
Entre nous
, my dear, Amity and Bancroft have reached an understanding. Not an official betrothal mind. They feel they must wait for Ophelia's approval."

"Oh, Max, that is splendid news!" Honoria cried. Her face wore a smile of unusual warmth and she reached for his hand, squeezing it in her excitement. "I am so thrilled for dear little Amity. She must be over the moon with elation at her good fortune."