Belinda Goes to Bath by M. C. Beaton Page A

Penelope remained unmoved; Penelope because music meant nothing to her, good or bad, and Hannah because her mind was busy with plans. Mrs Judd was eminently bullyable. But what was it that started friction in a marriage? Why, debt, lack of money, thought Hannah with satisfaction. Rows began and went on. Mr Judd was a weak man and in a perverse way had begun to enjoy ill-treating his wife. The crushable Mrs Judd had begun to sinkunder such treatment and, thinking little of herself, obscurely felt she deserved it, which, in a woman, was an open invitation for more bad treatment.
    Before leaving her husband, Mrs Clarence, wife of Hannah’s late employer, had held a musicale in Thornton Hall, their home in Kensington. Ever considerate of the servants, she had arranged for the staff to listen outside the room in which the concert was being held. A couple of singers, man and wife, had been engaged at great expense. But they had not been nearly so good as the Judds, thought Hannah. Something must be done about them. It was no use saying Mrs Judd would be better off without that husband of hers. Women like Mrs Judd would simply go ahead and find another bully. They need a patron, thought Hannah, eyeing the marquess covertly. That gentleman was sitting enraptured by the singing, his normally austere face looking younger. He and Belinda looked similar in that moment, each wrapped up in the pleasure of the music.
    They must marry.
    Hannah gave a little sigh. She had set herself a great task, but she was determined that if Hannah Pym had any say in the matter, then Belinda Earle would arrive in Bath as an engaged lady.
    The song was finished. The marquess, despite his absorption, had nonetheless sensed that it was Belinda, not Penelope, who had shared his pleasure in the singing and music.
    Hannah decided to retire and have a good night’ssleep while she made her plans. She usually needed very little sleep, but the bitter cold of the day and the alarms of the accident had left her feeling tired. Belinda rose at the same time, curtsied to the company, and followed Hannah from the room. The Judds, too, made their escape.
    ‘An unexpectedly charming evening,’ said Penelope. ‘It is very educational to study people of a rank lower than oneself.’
    ‘I think you will find Miss Earle is of our rank in life,’ said the marquess. Having been toadied to and then pursued by adventurers and wastrels from an early age, he had developed a nice eye for social distinctions. ‘In fact, I know I have heard the name before. Untitled aristocracy, I believe.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ cooed Penelope. ‘Miss Earle is a delightful creature and I quite dote on her already, but a little strange in her ways, do you not think? A certain gaucherie? I could not help but overhear what she said to you at supper. To remark on the colour of a gentleman’s hair! I declare I was shocked. But she has been badly brought up perhaps.’
    The marquess should have agreed because he did feel that Miss Earle was regrettably outspoken, but some imp of perversity prompted him to say, ‘I find her inoffensive and much to be pitied. Miss Pym assures me she is an heiress. I can only think it reprehensible that her uncle and aunt found it necessary to subject her to the rigours of a stage-coach in winter.’
    He studied the toes of his shoes while the Jordansexchanged startled glances. This Belinda Earle must be sent on her way as soon as possible.
       
    Belinda and Hannah made their way to Miss Wimple’s room. The physician, a Dr Patterson, was bending over the bed, shaving Miss Wimple’s head. Belinda let out a cry of alarm. ‘It is the necessary treatment for concussion,’ said the doctor, pausing in his work. ‘I shall then apply leeches to her head. After that, I shall apply this salve, which is made with half an ounce of sal ammoniac, two tablespoons of vinegar, and the same quantity of whisky in half a pint of water. Then Miss Wimple, should she show any signs