Read Online An Escapade and an Engagement by Annie Burrows - Free Book Online
Authors: Annie Burrows
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with yourself this evening,’ he
observed dryly. ‘I suppose I should have expected it. You are never happier than
when you are up to your neck in mischief, are you?’
She turned to stare at him, wide-eyed, at the unfairness of
that remark, and saw that he looked as though he was really annoyed with her
about something. Though, cudgel her brains as she might, she could not think
what.
That morning she had driven up to the front of Madame Pichot’s
at the prearranged hour, in Lady Penrose’s town carriage, and, seeing a tall,
dark-haired girl loitering on the pavement, gazing wistfully at the window
display, had sat forward and said artlessly, ‘My goodness. Can that be Milly?
Whatever can she be doing in Town?’
And then she had leaped out nimbly and darted up to the girl to
make sure she was the right person. By the time Lady Penrose had exited the
carriage with rather more decorum she’d thought enough time had passed for her
to have extracted the news from her supposed friend that she had recently come
into some money, quite unexpectedly, and had come up to Town to purchase a
fashionable wardrobe.
Having imparted that information to Lady Penrose, she had then
swept Milly into the shop, chattering about the newest fashions in that month’s La Belle Assemblée, and naturally the modiste,
seeing the two on such good terms, had assumed Milly must be a somebody, and
treated her accordingly.
‘Now you are looking at me,’ Lord Ledbury was saying, ‘as
though you expect me to congratulate you for this morning’s work. Did you come
here expecting me to thank you?’
‘Well, yes,’ she replied, growing more mystified at his ill
humour by the minute.
Milly had certainly been thrilled at the way the morning had
turned out. She had admitted that she would never have dared set foot in an
establishment like Madame Pichot’s. But now she would be able to return whenever
she wanted, after an introduction like that. Even if Lady Jayne was not able to
go with her, Madame Pichot would never let one of her customers leave her shop
looking anything less than elegant. Which was surely what Lord Ledbury
wanted?
‘Well, I cannot thank you for issuing her with a false name.
Milly informs me that she is now to be known as Miss Amelia Brigstock!’
Oh, so that was it. ‘That is entirely your fault,’ she
retorted, stung by his determination to find fault with her in spite of all she
had achieved on his behalf. ‘You omitted to tell me her full name.’ And she had
not criticised him for his lack of foresight, had she? She had just plugged up
the leak as best she could, to make sure the whole campaign did not sink before
it even got underway. ‘Since she was supposed to be a long-lost friend, newly
come to Town, I could hardly ask her what it was, could I? When Lady Penrose
asked me to introduce her I had to come up with something.’
His hands tightened on the head of his cane. A muscle twitched
in his jaw.
She reminded herself that he was not in the best of health, and
that being in pain could make anyone short-tempered.
Whilst arranging her skirts into decorous folds, making sure
the train was well out of the way of his feet, she resolutely stifled the pang
of hurt his lack of gratitude had inflicted. Only when she was confident she
could do so in a calm, even tone, did she point out, ‘And I assumed Milly must
be short for something. Amelia is a good, safe kind of name for a girl who is
supposed to be completely respectable, though not from the top drawer. And the
name Brigstock just popped into my head.’
‘Her name is Milly,’ he grated. ‘Just Milly. And there is
nothing wrong with that.’
‘There is if I am to invite her to go about with me and pretend
that we are bosom friends.’
He looked aghast. ‘I have not asked you to do that! Surely you
only need to take her shopping a few times to teach her the difference between
taste and tawdriness?’
She mellowed a little. How could she not, when he
observed dryly. ‘I suppose I should have expected it. You are never happier than
when you are up to your neck in mischief, are you?’
She turned to stare at him, wide-eyed, at the unfairness of
that remark, and saw that he looked as though he was really annoyed with her
about something. Though, cudgel her brains as she might, she could not think
what.
That morning she had driven up to the front of Madame Pichot’s
at the prearranged hour, in Lady Penrose’s town carriage, and, seeing a tall,
dark-haired girl loitering on the pavement, gazing wistfully at the window
display, had sat forward and said artlessly, ‘My goodness. Can that be Milly?
Whatever can she be doing in Town?’
And then she had leaped out nimbly and darted up to the girl to
make sure she was the right person. By the time Lady Penrose had exited the
carriage with rather more decorum she’d thought enough time had passed for her
to have extracted the news from her supposed friend that she had recently come
into some money, quite unexpectedly, and had come up to Town to purchase a
fashionable wardrobe.
Having imparted that information to Lady Penrose, she had then
swept Milly into the shop, chattering about the newest fashions in that month’s La Belle Assemblée, and naturally the modiste,
seeing the two on such good terms, had assumed Milly must be a somebody, and
treated her accordingly.
‘Now you are looking at me,’ Lord Ledbury was saying, ‘as
though you expect me to congratulate you for this morning’s work. Did you come
here expecting me to thank you?’
‘Well, yes,’ she replied, growing more mystified at his ill
humour by the minute.
Milly had certainly been thrilled at the way the morning had
turned out. She had admitted that she would never have dared set foot in an
establishment like Madame Pichot’s. But now she would be able to return whenever
she wanted, after an introduction like that. Even if Lady Jayne was not able to
go with her, Madame Pichot would never let one of her customers leave her shop
looking anything less than elegant. Which was surely what Lord Ledbury
wanted?
‘Well, I cannot thank you for issuing her with a false name.
Milly informs me that she is now to be known as Miss Amelia Brigstock!’
Oh, so that was it. ‘That is entirely your fault,’ she
retorted, stung by his determination to find fault with her in spite of all she
had achieved on his behalf. ‘You omitted to tell me her full name.’ And she had
not criticised him for his lack of foresight, had she? She had just plugged up
the leak as best she could, to make sure the whole campaign did not sink before
it even got underway. ‘Since she was supposed to be a long-lost friend, newly
come to Town, I could hardly ask her what it was, could I? When Lady Penrose
asked me to introduce her I had to come up with something.’
His hands tightened on the head of his cane. A muscle twitched
in his jaw.
She reminded herself that he was not in the best of health, and
that being in pain could make anyone short-tempered.
Whilst arranging her skirts into decorous folds, making sure
the train was well out of the way of his feet, she resolutely stifled the pang
of hurt his lack of gratitude had inflicted. Only when she was confident she
could do so in a calm, even tone, did she point out, ‘And I assumed Milly must
be short for something. Amelia is a good, safe kind of name for a girl who is
supposed to be completely respectable, though not from the top drawer. And the
name Brigstock just popped into my head.’
‘Her name is Milly,’ he grated. ‘Just Milly. And there is
nothing wrong with that.’
‘There is if I am to invite her to go about with me and pretend
that we are bosom friends.’
He looked aghast. ‘I have not asked you to do that! Surely you
only need to take her shopping a few times to teach her the difference between
taste and tawdriness?’
She mellowed a little. How could she not, when he
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