found their way to his desk
he did not say, and only once did he raise his voice in
displeasure.
Shortly after the first of the gowns was
delivered, Tansy happened to come upon his grace on the stairs. He
looked at her, looked away, and then cast his eyes over her again,
his expression showing he was not displeased with what he saw. That
is, until his eyes clapped on the cap Tansy had tied about her
head.
“Take that demmed ugly cap and throw it in
the fire—and any others you might have stuffed away in your room!”
he bellowed. “I refuse to allow you to shout to the world that you
consider yourself on the shelf. Why do you think I allowed my
Grandmama to accumulate that mountain of debt if it were not so I
could at least harbor the hope some kind soul would find it in his
heart to have pity on me and take you off my hands? Did you really
think I would want you hanging around my neck for all eternity?
Chaperon m’sister, yes, but cast out a few lures for yourself while
you’re about it, woman,” he ended decisively, and was climbing up
and away from her before she could formulate any reply.
Tansy had entertained thoughts of defying the
Duke, but could not bring herself to disobey the man who had
literally paid for the clothes on her back. Besides, the
stiffly-starched things itched abominably, and made her feel like a
twenty-six-year-old baby rigged out for an airing in the park.
She gave the caps to Comfort, Emily’s
abigail, to dispose of as she pleased. From what little she knew of
the maid, she was willing to wager the chit had hawked them on the
corner for a pretty penny, for never before had Tansy encountered
such a wily creature as Comfort.
A rather sad smile passed across Tansy’s face
as she recalled her own manipulation at Comfort’s hands. The
dowager had insisted Tansy, who had fended for herself since she
was eight, must be provided with a personal abigail, and Comfort
was Jill-on-the-spot with a quick solution. Why, wasn’t it only
last week that her own darling cousin Pansy had mentioned she was
thinking of looking for another post, since her employer had been
taking a bit too much notice of his young servant (not to mention
his taking an actual pinch or two when the opportunity presented
itself).
It was the perfect solution! Pansy could be
installed within the space of a day, and Comfort could instruct her
if there were any lapses in her education as to the duties of a
personal abigail.
Tansy soon learned Pansy had need of
Comfort’s guidance, as that organizing young woman had neglected to
say that Pansy’s main duties in her last employment consisted of
scrubbing out kitchen pots and peeling vegetables for the cook.
The dowager was all for sending Pansy off and
looking elsewhere, but once again Tansy’s protective nature
surfaced. She insisted the undersized, constantly whimpering girl
was just what she had in mind. By now Pansy had settled down to her
own version of a routine: scorching fine lawn nightgowns and then
crying, dropping buckets full of soapy bathwater on the carpet and
crying, closing all the dozens of tiny buttons on Tansy’s gowns
with fumbling fingers before discovering she had missed one tiny
button halfway down and crying, etc., and so forth.
Another young woman would have been upset,
and rightly so, but Tansy just sighed, handed Pansy a handkerchief,
and sent her off to the kitchens where Pansy would sit peeling
potatoes for hours in a high degree of good humor.
Comfort was surprised when Miss Tansy’s wrath
did not come raining down upon her head on the matter of Pansy, but
she was outraged when the companion warned her against allying
herself with Miss Emily by abetting her in any more secret
assignations or in the delivering of any more illicit billets-doux from young men willing to reward her monetarily
for her cooperation.
Comfort was not so totty-headed as to think
her part in Miss Emily’s little escapades were untraceable, but she
did not enjoy the
he did not say, and only once did he raise his voice in
displeasure.
Shortly after the first of the gowns was
delivered, Tansy happened to come upon his grace on the stairs. He
looked at her, looked away, and then cast his eyes over her again,
his expression showing he was not displeased with what he saw. That
is, until his eyes clapped on the cap Tansy had tied about her
head.
“Take that demmed ugly cap and throw it in
the fire—and any others you might have stuffed away in your room!”
he bellowed. “I refuse to allow you to shout to the world that you
consider yourself on the shelf. Why do you think I allowed my
Grandmama to accumulate that mountain of debt if it were not so I
could at least harbor the hope some kind soul would find it in his
heart to have pity on me and take you off my hands? Did you really
think I would want you hanging around my neck for all eternity?
Chaperon m’sister, yes, but cast out a few lures for yourself while
you’re about it, woman,” he ended decisively, and was climbing up
and away from her before she could formulate any reply.
Tansy had entertained thoughts of defying the
Duke, but could not bring herself to disobey the man who had
literally paid for the clothes on her back. Besides, the
stiffly-starched things itched abominably, and made her feel like a
twenty-six-year-old baby rigged out for an airing in the park.
She gave the caps to Comfort, Emily’s
abigail, to dispose of as she pleased. From what little she knew of
the maid, she was willing to wager the chit had hawked them on the
corner for a pretty penny, for never before had Tansy encountered
such a wily creature as Comfort.
A rather sad smile passed across Tansy’s face
as she recalled her own manipulation at Comfort’s hands. The
dowager had insisted Tansy, who had fended for herself since she
was eight, must be provided with a personal abigail, and Comfort
was Jill-on-the-spot with a quick solution. Why, wasn’t it only
last week that her own darling cousin Pansy had mentioned she was
thinking of looking for another post, since her employer had been
taking a bit too much notice of his young servant (not to mention
his taking an actual pinch or two when the opportunity presented
itself).
It was the perfect solution! Pansy could be
installed within the space of a day, and Comfort could instruct her
if there were any lapses in her education as to the duties of a
personal abigail.
Tansy soon learned Pansy had need of
Comfort’s guidance, as that organizing young woman had neglected to
say that Pansy’s main duties in her last employment consisted of
scrubbing out kitchen pots and peeling vegetables for the cook.
The dowager was all for sending Pansy off and
looking elsewhere, but once again Tansy’s protective nature
surfaced. She insisted the undersized, constantly whimpering girl
was just what she had in mind. By now Pansy had settled down to her
own version of a routine: scorching fine lawn nightgowns and then
crying, dropping buckets full of soapy bathwater on the carpet and
crying, closing all the dozens of tiny buttons on Tansy’s gowns
with fumbling fingers before discovering she had missed one tiny
button halfway down and crying, etc., and so forth.
Another young woman would have been upset,
and rightly so, but Tansy just sighed, handed Pansy a handkerchief,
and sent her off to the kitchens where Pansy would sit peeling
potatoes for hours in a high degree of good humor.
Comfort was surprised when Miss Tansy’s wrath
did not come raining down upon her head on the matter of Pansy, but
she was outraged when the companion warned her against allying
herself with Miss Emily by abetting her in any more secret
assignations or in the delivering of any more illicit billets-doux from young men willing to reward her monetarily
for her cooperation.
Comfort was not so totty-headed as to think
her part in Miss Emily’s little escapades were untraceable, but she
did not enjoy the
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