Lord Rathbone's Flirt Read online

  Verity returned the maid’s greeting. She saw that her lug­gage had already been unpacked and that her bedgown and overrobe had been laid across the coverlet on the bed. She took off her bonnet and pulled off her gloves as she surveyed the room. “This is a comfortable room, indeed,” she said, smil­ing.

  “Aye, miss. There will be fresh water in the basin so that you can wash, and as soon as I have the fire started good and proper, I will go fetch up a tray of supper for you,” said the maid. She sat back on her heels, surveying the result of her ef­forts. “There now. That will soon take the chill off.”

  “Thank you.” Verity smiled her appreciation as the servant-woman left the bedroom. She unbuttoned her pelisse and laid it with her bonnet and gloves on a chair. Then she washed her face and hands in the basin.

  By the time that she had finished with her toilette and tried to fluff her crushed hair, the maid had returned with a tray. There was soup, tea, and buttered bread.

  The maid offered to undo the buttons down the back of Miss Worth’s dress before she left. “For I’m certain that you’ll not easily manage all of them for yourself, miss.”

  Verity agreed. She thought that it would be an adjustment for her to make do without a maid. For several weeks she had shared a dresser with her mother and it had been agreed that the woman would go with Lady Worth to Brighton. Verity’s own maid had some time before gone to help her sister with a new baby and when the decision to close Crofthouse had been made, the woman had been sent notice that she need not return until Miss Worth was once more in a position which would re­quire the offices of a personal maid.

  With the maid’s help, Verity undressed and made ready for bed. The maid ran a warming pan between the bedsheets, rec­ommended that Miss Worth enjoy her supper, and left once more. In gown and dressing gown, Verity sat down to the small table and disposed of her lukewarm soup and bread. She discovered that she really was hungry and the soup was very satisfying.

  Afterward, she snuffed out the candle and slid under the heavy coverlet. She was asleep almost at once. It had been a long fatiguing journey and not even her natural anxiety over her future in the Pettiforth household could keep her awake.

  In the morning at breakfast, Miss Worth met Mr. Pettiforth. They were the only ones in the breakfast room at the time, since Mrs. Pettiforth and Miss Pettiforth did not come out of their rooms until later, while the younger children took break­fast in the schoolroom with their governess. This much Verity learned in the matter of minutes of their introduction to one another.

  Mr. Pettiforth assured her that she was to consider herself part of the family. “You are not to stand on ceremony with us, my dear. I consider you almost one of my own daughters due to the close correspondence that your father and I enjoyed for so many years.”

  “I know that he derived as much pleasure out of your letters, sir,” said Verity.

  Mr. Pettiforth was pleased to hear that it was so. He in­quired after Lady Worth and Verity’s brothers and sisters in detail, initially surprising Verity as to how well-informed he was; but, of course, her father must have told him much over the years. As a consequence, Verity felt rather more free in talking about her family to him than she might have otherwise.

  Mr. Pettiforth shook his head, frowning in sympathy at her confessed misgivings over her brother’s continued absence from England. “And not a word, you say. That is certainly cause for anxiety. But nevertheless I do not doubt that Sir Charles will return. From everything that your father wrote me of him, Sir Charles has something of a wild turn in his charac­ter. I expect that we shall discover he was delayed through being engaged in some odd enterprise or other and that the word of your father’s death did not reach him at once.”

  “I trust that you are right, sir,” said Verity. She found that she was cheered by her cousin’s observation. It was perfectly true that her brother could have gone off on some start or other. Indeed, how very like dear Charles that would be!

  As they continued to converse, Verity decided that she liked Mr. Pettiforth very much. His was a quiet personality, and he listened with sincere interest to all that was said. Her own questions about the household and her duties were answered thoughtfully and completely.

  She was surprised to learn that there had been some discus­sion between the Pettiforths and that it had been decided that she would be accompanying Miss Pettiforth to most of their social obligations. She had assumed that her responsibility would be limited to the daily rounds of activity and an occa­sional excursion. Verity had naturally thought that Mrs. Petti­forth would herself wish to chaperone her daughter into society, but according to Mr. Pettiforth that was not the case.

  With Mrs. Pettiforth’s conduct vividly in mind, Verity thought that it would be wise to establish just what was ex­pected of her by that lady. “I shall hold myself available to ful­fill whatever needs are required of me by Mrs. Pettiforth, of course. Will she wish anything else of me, sir?” she asked.

  “Thank you, my dear. You will discover that your role is just as I have said and that you will soon feel quite comfort­able with us,” said Mr. Pettiforth.

  Mrs. Pettiforth entered the breakfast room just as Mr. Petti­forth was rising. She inclined her cheek for her husband’s salute. “Dear Mr. Pettiforth, good morning. And Verity, too! You have had an opportunity to talk, then?”

  “Yes, indeed. I believe our cousin shall be an asset to us, Mrs. Pettiforth,” said Mr. Pettiforth.

  Mrs. Pettiforth nodded. She allowed her husband to seat her at the table. “Just as I thought. We shall deal famously, I do not doubt.”

  Mr. Pettiforth excused himself once more to the ladies and exited.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Mrs. Pettiforth poured herself a cup of tea, but she did not serve herself anything from the sideboard. “I never touch a morsel before luncheon, but I see that you are a fine trencher-woman, Verity. But then you are a rather tall young woman, are you not? Not at all like myself or my dear Cecily. I do hope that you have a store of gowns, for I should not like the fitting of you.”

  “Pray do not be anxious on that account, ma’am. I assure you that I am decently wardrobed,” said Verity quietly. She did not give any indication that she was aware that Mrs. Petti­forth had offered insult. One did not give notice to another’s ill-breeding.

  It was becoming obvious to her that however much Mr. Pet­tiforth wanted her in the house, Mrs. Pettiforth held hidden re­sentments over her presence. Verity smiled slightly. “However, you have raised a question. Mr. Pettiforth told me that I would be accompanying Miss Pettiforth to several social functions. May I inquire more closely into what you desire of me?”

  Mrs. Pettiforth fiddled with the lace at her bosom. “Yes, well, that was talked of. Mr. Pettiforth hopes to spare me anxi­ety by having a companion whose sole responsibility will be to provide an example for our daughter. Of course, you are not quite out of mourning, but Mr. Pettiforth does not consider that a true objection, since you will not be dancing in any event.” She looked up and bestowed a patently false smile on Verity. “I would not wish you to go against the dictates of your conscience, however.”

  Verity smiled also. She was very well able to discern Mrs. Pettiforth’s true desires. The lady did not want an interloper chaperoning her daughter, but at the same time she did not want to run counter to her husband’s expressed wishes. As for herself, Verity rather thought that she would take her cue from Mr. Pettiforth himself. It was him to whom she owed her pre­sent position and so that was where her strongest loyalties must incline. Indeed, she would far rather accept Mr. Pettiforth’s description of her place in the house rather than that to which she suspected Mrs. Pettiforth would prefer to relegate her. But the matter had to be handled with as much diplomacy as possible, for she had no wish to make an enemy of Mrs. Pettiforth. If she so chose, the lady of the house could un­doubtedly make Verity’s position very uncomfortable indeed.

  “I am out of black gloves, ma’a
m. I do not believe that the conventions will be outraged if I were to pursue the charge that you have laid upon me. Indeed, it would be a dereliction of my duty if I were to cry off for such a reason when I am certain that you have much planned for Miss Pettiforth’s enter­tainment,” said Verity.

  Mrs. Pettiforth’s stiff expression eased. “Indeed, we do have ambitious plans in train for my beloved Cecily’s edification. I was never one to see the sense of throwing a sheltered young miss willy-nilly onto the London social scene without first having some experience behind her.”

  “I do agree, Mrs. Pettiforth. Nothing is more detrimental to a young girl’s chances, especially if she is the least bit spir­ited,” said Verity, venturing to draw a bow in the dark.

  Her arrow struck the target. Mrs. Pettiforth nodded and un­bent even further. She said proudly, “There is no denying that Cecily is exceedingly high-strung and sometimes her playful­ness can lead her too far. Cecily is a beauty, of course, and much can be forgiven her for that reason. You understand that there are those whose envy of Cecily’s superior looks leads them to catty whisperings which put my dear girl out of all pa­tience.”

  Mrs. Pettiforth shrugged. “However, I wish Cecily to put forward her very best foot no matter what the circumstance. She must learn to behave with all the cool disdain that a lady should possess when faced with direct insult. That is where you come in, dear Verity. You shall be Cecily’s example in how to go on in society, for Mr. Pettiforth assures me there could be no person better qualified to handle the task. In addi­tion, I wish you to shield my girl as much as possible from those unfortunate remarks that sting her sensibilities and lead her into rash retaliation.”

  “I understand you, I think,” said Verity slowly. “Miss Petti­forth is both high-strung and perhaps overly sensitive to possi­ble slight. That is indeed an awkward combination when one is to make one’s debut. Polite society is rarely compassionate where a faux pas is concerned, and especially when it is com­mitted by a young lady unestablished in the world.”

  “Exactly,” said Mrs. Pettiforth. She was very nearly beam­ing her approval of Verity’s quick grasp of the situation. “I see that Mr. Pettiforth was precisely right in his estimation of your character. My anxieties may be put to rest, indeed! I shall rely upon you, dear Verity, for I hope that Cecily will go off ex­ceedingly well. In point of fact—”

  Abruptly, Mrs. Pettiforth seemed to realize that she had very nearly confided something that she should not. She had leaned over the table in a conspiratorial posture, but now she straight­ened. She picked up her teacup. “But I should not say anything more at present. You will understand a mother’s hopes, I know, for Lady Worth must have cherished much the same for you. It is such a pity that you did not take, my dear.”

  Verity was rather taken aback by Mrs. Pettiforth’s assump­tion. She did not quite know what to say, and so she made a noncommittal statement that could be taken in any way. “My hopes were also rather dashed, ma’am. However, I do not re­gret the opportunities that were given me.”

  Mrs. Pettiforth chose to accept Verity’s reply as agreement with her observation. She actually smiled. “I can now under­stand why Mr. Pettiforth’s thoughts naturally turned directly to you, my dear Verity. You have a very superior understanding. Sir Montague’s letters indicated a pride in you. Indeed, in all of his family. I was never more shocked than to hear of his death. I would have been at the funeral with Mr. Pettiforth ex­cept that I was laid down on my bed with an ailment. It was nothing serious, I do assure you, but nevertheless it barred me from any exertion. I do hope that Mr. Pettiforth properly con­veyed my respects to your dear mama.”

  Verity recalled from that terrible time a rare visit from Mr. Pettiforth to her mother, and though she did not actually know what had passed in that interview, she thought it was safe to assume that Mr. Pettiforth had indeed discharged this duty. “Yes, he did, ma’am. My mother was much appreciative of the gesture of condolences, I know.”

  Mrs. Pettiforth nodded. “Very good. I know that you will be anxious to settle into your duties with us. You will undoubt­edly meet Cecily at luncheon.”

  Verity realized that she had been dismissed again. Since she had already finished her breakfast, there was nothing else to keep her in the room. She therefore rose and gracefully took her leave.

  Upon exiting the breakfast room, Verity inquired of a foot­man the location of the library. She went directly there, as­sured of finding stationery and pens available. She wrote at once to her mother, outlining for that lady the welcome that she had found. Also, she requested that her evening gowns, and the new gowns that had been ordered, be sent to her since she would require them after all. She also wrote letters to her brother and sister-in-law, with a special word each for Timo­thy and Bart, and to her sister, Elizabeth. Much of the morning passed quickly and pleasantly at the task. When she emerged from the library with her finished letters, she requested that the butler frank them for her, Mr. Pettiforth having put this cour­tesy at her command.

  Verity then went upstairs to idle away the time remaining before luncheon. On the landing she chanced to meet a supe­rior female of stern demeanor, who was herding three young females of varying ages down the hall. Correctly divining that this must be the governess and the younger ladies of the house, Verity paused to introduce herself.

  The governess regarded Verity with what could only be called a measuring look. Verity wondered at the sharpness of the woman’s glance and what it could possibly mean. The woman briskly shook Verity’s hand. “I am Miss Tibbs. These young ladies are Miss Sophronia, Miss Dorothy, and Miss Re­becca.” Each of the girls curtsied in turn as they were intro­duced, silently staring with wide eyes at the new member of their household.

  Verity smiled at them. “How do you do, girls. I am glad to make your acquaintance.”

  The girls murmured polite acknowledgments. The tallest girl said hesitantly, “Perhaps Miss Worth would like to join us, Miss Tibbs?”

  Miss Tibbs glanced at the girl, permitting a small smile of approval to touch her lips. She lifted her gaze from the girl’s gratified expression. “We are on our way to take a turn about the walking gallery. Would you care to join us, Miss Worth?”

  “Yes, thank you. That would indeed be very pleasant.” Ver­ity turned about and accompanied the little group. It was still early and she had wondered what she was to do with herself until the luncheon bell sounded. Nothing could have suited her better than to meet more of the household and learn something about them. In addition, she was not used to being physically idle and she was grateful for the opportunity to take a little ex­ercise.

  The party traversed the halls to the walking gallery, where­upon the younger members broke away to dash to the far end. “The exercise will do them good. They will sit more quietly at their stitching later,” said Miss Tibbs, as though she was reply­ing to a query about the latitude that she allowed the girls.

  “I recall that my governess disliked it very much whenever I stepped out at more than a sedate walk. She scolded me many times for my lack of ladylike restraint,” said Verity, smiling. “But girls become young ladies so very quickly in any event.”

  “Indeed they do,” said Miss Tibbs. “It is the nature of things, after all. One hopes that in the process valuable lessons are learned so that the transition is relatively painless. I am fortunate that my present charges are fine, sensitive girls.”

  “It is wonderful that you can say so,” said Verity. “I under­stand it is not always the case.”

  Miss Tibbs chuckled. “No, that is true; it is not. Do you have family, Miss Worth?”

  Verity replied and, encouraged by Miss Tibbs’s casual ques­tion, had soon divulged much of her background. Miss Tibbs gave out her own history in a dry way. The conversation be­tween Verity and Miss Tibbs was of this moderate polite na­ture until the governess abruptly put a question that quite turned its character. “Have you any reservations about your position here. Miss Worth?” />
  Verity looked at the governess in considerable surprise. She had not judged the governess to be the sort to inquire so closely into what assuredly did not concern her. “Why, how should I?”

  Miss Tibbs smiled understandingly. “You are astonished. Forgive my bluntness, Miss Worth. I am not rude, as a rule. However, I have taken a liking to you. It was my thought to offer any insights that I might have if you should care to in­quire.”

  “That is kind of you, Miss Tibbs. I shall certainly call upon you if I should ever have a question,” said Verity in gentle re­buff.

  Miss Tibbs nodded and turned aside to speak to one of the girls who had come running up to her. She dealt with the child’s breathless question with a patience and affection easily recognized by Verity.

  Verity saw that under the governess’s blunt exterior hid a kind heart and that rarity of rarities, a genuine interest in oth­ers. Verity realized then that the governess had not spoken as she had out of a desire to enter into gossip or even out of sim­ple curiosity. Miss Tibbs’s offer had been sincere.

  A frown formed between Verity’s brows. The governess ob­viously had something of moment that she wished to say, but she would not do so unless invited. Verity made up her mind. Perhaps it would be well to have some insight into the kind of young woman with whom she would be dealing.

  When the girl had run off again to join her sisters, Verity said, “Miss Tibbs, I would be grateful to know anything that you may be able to tell me about Miss Pettiforth’s character and her likes and dislikes. I have not yet met her, you see, and I do wish to establish a friendly footing as soon as possible. Mr. and Mrs. Pettiforth have stressed that my duty is to influ­ence Miss Pettiforth to acquire social ease. I think that shall be a much simpler task were I to have some insight into her.”

  Miss Tibbs regarded her for a moment. “Of course, Miss Worth. I shall be glad to tell you what I can. I was Miss Pettiforth’s governess until very recently. In fact, it was at my rec­ommendation that Miss Pettiforth was emancipated from the schoolroom.”