Wicked Godmother (13 page)

‘I must reward Lizzie in some way,’ said Harriet. ‘It was brave of her to go looking for Beauty alone.’

‘Perhaps braver than you realize, ma’am. Vauxhall Gardens is no place for an unattended young lady. Imagine it. Her searching in the dark, going out of her wits with worry. She is a thoroughly nice child.’

‘Perhaps money . . .’ ventured Harriet.

‘Money is not the answer to everything,’ said the marquess. ‘If you give her money, she will no doubt share it with the other servants. You have a basement full of Jacobites. One has only to see them altogether for even a second to realize they have formed themselves into some democratic sort of clan. I felt I was meeting Lizzie’s family when I returned, rather than her superiors.’

‘Not much of a family when they allow the child to sleep on a damp mattress on the scullery floor,’ said Harriet.

‘It must be a hard life for them,’ mused the marquess. ‘They appear to be servants only for each Season, rather than attached to some great household where they are employed all the year round. I do not suppose they are paid very much when the Season is over. It would explain their indifference to Lizzie’s sleeping quarters. Only people like us who are well-fed can afford the luxury of sentimental feelings for waifs . . . or dogs.’

‘I have no money,’ retorted Harriet defensively, ‘but Beauty, at one time, was the only friend I had and I was glad to share my food with him.’

‘To return to the subject of little Lizzie. Education for such as she is more valuable than gold. With a little training and learning she could aspire to be a housemaid and then perhaps a lady’s maid.’

‘That is a very good idea,’ said Harriet warmly. ‘I shall teach her myself.’

He smiled at her suddenly, liking her earnestness for Lizzie’s welfare, liking the fall of her gown and the soft sweetness of her voice.

Some devil prompted Harriet to say, ‘I trust your companion at Vauxhall was not too overset by the behaviour of my vulgar dog?’

‘Yes,’ said the marquess, his face going a polite blank, ‘she was.’

Harriet should have realized the marquess would naturally not be attending Vauxhall on his own. But she had hoped he had been there with a gentleman friend. Only because, she told herself severely, she wished the best for Sarah.

But a shadow crossed her face, and she finished her glass of wine very quickly and looked pointedly at the clock.

The marquess put down his glass and rose to his feet. Harriet rose as well and dropped him a curtsy by way of underlining the fact she expected him to take his leave.

He raised her hand to his lips and smiled down into her eyes.

Harriet snatched her hand away and buried it in the folds of her skirt.

His face flamed at the insult.

‘You are so . . . practised in the art of flirtation, my lord,’ said Harriet, ‘and I am not.’

‘No,’ agreed the marquess. ‘No one could accuse you of even trying to practise the art of being polite. Good evening.’

Sadly, Harriet watched him go and then listened until the last rumble of his carriage wheels had faded on the night. Lord Vere did not prompt such bad behaviour in her. She sat down on the floor beside Beauty and stroked his rough, shaggy fur. ‘What is happening to me, Beauty?’ she asked.

But Beauty’s only answer was a drunken snore.

Do you know, Carter, that I can actually write my name in the dust on the table?

Faith, Mum, that’s more than I can do. Sure, there’s nothing like education, after all.

PUNCH

Rainbird descended to the servants’ hall the next day with the news that Lizzie was to be taught her letters by Miss Metcalf. Miss Metcalf intended to begin on the morrow by giving Lizzie half an hour of her time at ten-thirty in the morning.

‘Reckon she deserves it,’ said Alice in her slow way. ‘I ain’t much good when it comes to education, not me.’

‘Me neither,’ said Dave. ‘Why Liz?’

‘’Cos she’s a brave girl, that’s why,’ said Jenny, shooting a venomous look at Joseph. ‘See here, Lizzie, when we get that pub we’re set on, you can keep the books and sit there like a lady.’

‘I could hae taught her,’ growled Angus Mac-Gregor, the cook.

‘Well, she probably wouldn’t have larned much o’ you,’ said Joseph. ‘You’d hehve shouted at her and hit her with the roasting spit if she hedn’t hehve done what you said.’

‘We Scots are no’ like you Sassenachs,’ said the cook. ‘There’s hardly a bairn in the length and breadth of the country that doesn’t know his letters.’

‘Don’t be getting above yourself, Lizzie,’ said Mrs Middleton.

‘And pass on to us what she teaches you,’ said Alice. ‘We could have a school down here in the winter.’

Education fever set in, and Rainbird promised to buy some secondhand primers for all of them.

Only Joseph sat a little apart, smarting both physically and mentally. He had had a hiding from Rainbird the evening before, but it was Lizzie’s new attitude towards him that hurt the most.

Joseph had not realized how much he had come to take the little scullery maid’s devotion for granted. Lizzie now barely looked at him.

Abovestairs, Harriet was breakfasting with Sarah and Annabelle, giving them a carefully edited version of the previous night’s happenings. Caution prompted her not to say she had entertained the marquess. Although she was sure dear Sarah would understand, the girl might be upset nonetheless at missing a chance of spending further time in his company.

If only there were two Lord Veres
, thought Harriet.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Lord Vere called and chatted to Sarah and Annabelle for quite half an hour. Then they went out to the opera, where he had secured them a box. There was no sign of the Marquess of Huntingdon.

Harriet took her charges during the following week to balls and routs and parties. The Season was rushing upon them; the pace becoming hectic. The marquess did not put in an appearance at any of the events. Sarah began to show signs of turning petulant and kept asking Harriet sweetly if she had said something to offend the handsome lord.

Harriet was just beginning to wonder whether to admit to Sarah that she had in fact been very rude indeed to Lord Huntingdon when Lord Vere brought him back into their lives.

He said the marquess had proposed a carriage ride. Lord Vere had discovered the marquess had been away visiting his country estate, and the marquess had surprised him on his return by suggesting the outing.

Lord Vere was by now hopelessly in love with Harriet and had decided to propose. He did not want his friend, however, to suspect any of this, for he feared the marquess might steal a march on him.

Having accepted the invitation, Harriet then began to worry about the wisdom of going along herself. She felt sure something would prompt her to annoy the marquess, he would be furious, and Sarah’s hopes would be dashed. Harriet was just wondering what to do when Miss Josephine Spencer arrived at Number 67. Harriet was delighted to see her. It transpired that Miss Spencer had come to Town to stay with an elderly relative in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. Harriet sat down and regaled her friend with all the things that had happened since she had come to London.

Miss Spencer heard her out in silence and then said, ‘You are sure that this Lord Vere and Lord Huntingdon are not interested in you, rather than in the twins?’

‘No, of course not,’ said Harriet. ‘I do not have a dowry. But there is something I have not told you, Josephine. I say the most terrible things to Huntingdon and have given him quite a disgust of me, so I am very obviously not the reason for the outing tomorrow. But I am worried I might say something wrong – and Sarah would never forgive me. She is quite taken with the marquess. In fact,’ said Harriet with a burst of candour, ‘any woman would be taken with him. He is devastatingly handsome and . . . and he has a sweet smile. But he is a rake.’

‘Aren’t they all,’ said Miss Spencer cynically.

‘I do wish I had someone to send along tomorrow instead of me.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Miss Spencer promptly, ‘provided you are sure it is not you the gentlemen are after.’

‘Of course not!’

‘Don’t sound surprised. I would have thought . . . well, never mind. What excuse shall I give them?’

But before Harriet could reply, Rainbird entered, obviously wishing to speak to her, and then stopped when he saw Miss Spencer, because Joseph had let her in and, thinking she was an old frump of no consequence, had not bothered to tell the butler of her arrival.

‘Yes, Rainbird?’ asked Harriet.

‘It is a private matter, ma’am,’ said Rainbird.

‘You may speak about it now, if you wish,’ said Harriet. ‘Miss Spencer is an old friend and knows all my affairs.’

Rainbird took a deep breath and plunged in. He had learned earlier from Harriet of the proposed outing to Richmond, and, since his services would not be required on the morrow, he wished to take a day’s leave to go to Brighton to see ‘a very old friend’.

The butler’s heart had been aching for Felice, the French lady’s maid. He had tried to school himself to wait until the end of the Season when he would be free, but he was frantically worried that she might be contemplating marriage to some burgher.

Miss Metcalf studied him so long in silence that Rainbird began to fear he had offended her. Then she surprised him by saying, ‘Brighton. I have never seen the sea. Also, I am worried about little Lizzie. Perhaps we all need fresh air. Hire a large travelling carriage, Rainbird, and we shall all go.’

Rainbird tried to keep his features correctly immobile, but his comedian’s face radiated happiness.

‘Thank you, Miss Metcalf,’ he said. ‘I shall inform the rest of the staff. We have the pot boy, Dave, who can stay to mind the house.’

‘I do not think that would be fair to Dave,’ said Harriet. ‘We will make sure all the shutters are closed and the doors locked and barred.’

When Rainbird had left, Miss Spencer said thoughtfully, ‘That is a most attractive man, your butler.’

‘Rainbird?’

‘Yes, Rainbird. He has a clever face and a good body and his legs are all his own. No false calves there.’

‘Wait until you meet the Marquess of Huntingdon.’ Harriet laughed. ‘Baroness Villiers, who is quite a grim old dowager, told me without a smile on her face that Huntingdon’s legs were the ‘‘talk of Europe’’.’

Miss Spencer smiled, although her brain was working furiously. She wondered whether Harriet was in love with this marquess.

Sarah and Annabelle were delighted with the new arrangements. Both were beginning to feel Harriet was much too pretty to have around, and a dragon like Miss Spencer as chaperone would certainly not distract any gentleman from their own charms.

Privately, they laughed and giggled over the idea of Harriet going off to Brighton with a parcel of servants. ‘And mark my words,’ said Sarah, wiping her streaming eyes, ‘she’ll take that wretched smelly dog with her, and it will savage everything on the Brighton road.’

‘You know, Sis,’ said Annabelle, ‘have you noticed that although Harriet sits against the wall at balls and parties just as she ought, the gentlemen do seem to show a marked degree of interest in her?’

‘Of course they do, stoopid,’ said Sarah. ‘How else can they get introductions to us?’

Down in the servants’ hall, excitement was reaching fever pitch. The only one unaffected was Emily, who absented herself more and more from the servants’ hall. She had said she was always with her young mistresses, as they changed their gowns at least six times a day, but Jenny said that Mary, the housemaid next door, had seen Emily walking through Shepherd Market talking to a fashionable lady. Emily surprised them all by saying she did not want to go. The Misses Hayner were not leaving until ten in the morning, whereas Miss Metcalf and the servants would be leaving at dawn. She would be expected to prepare the ladies for their outing and someone should be indoors to guard the house, she added righteously. Lizzie felt she would die from happiness. The fact that Emily was not to join them was all that was needed to guarantee a day of pure pleasure. Long after Harriet, Sarah, and Annabelle had retired for the night, the servants were awake, brushing down their best clothes and polishing their shoes. Rainbird had hired a spanking travelling carriage from the best livery stable in Town. He hoped Miss Metcalf would not be shocked at the expense.