husband’s moodiness and disapproval. The footman was a happy young man, very cheerful and good-natured. But the world still thinks ill of Mrs Clarence and assumes she died soon after in disgrace. But she was a wealthy woman in her own right, so they would not starve. I would like to find her again and tell her that her husband is dead, and that she is free to marry, but I do not know where she can be found.
‘Mr Clarence died and left me a legacy. How I longed to be free to travel in those long years during which he became a recluse.’
‘Why did you stay?’ asked Belinda curiously.
‘I was loyal. I never managed to save much money. I ran the house my own way. I could perhaps have moved to a livelier household, but might have been badly treated by some new mistress. But as to your future, miss, would it not be better to be mistress of this grand castle and a marchioness than to go to Bath in disgrace?’
Belinda rose to her feet and stooped and dropped a kiss somewhere in the air above Hannah’s head. ‘Dear Miss Pym,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I shall endure my stay with Great-Aunt Harriet and dream of my future as a spinster. You need not help me to bed. I am not really such a spoilt brat that I cannot look after myself.’
Hannah took herself off to her own bedroom. She chided herself for having been too forward too soon.Belinda obviously did not view the marquess with a loverlike eye and probably never would.
The marquess said good night to the Jordans and mounted the stairs. He decided to see how Miss Wimple was faring. He was startled at that lady’s shaven head, and then realized she had probably been leeched. The doctor was holding a glass to her lips, as she had just regained consciousness.
‘I am very pleased with our patient’s progress, my lord,’ said Dr Patterson.
‘I see she has recovered her senses.’ The marquess approached the bed. ‘You have finished leeching the lady’s head. It might be a good idea to tie a nightcap on her.’
‘Just about to do that,’ said the doctor. A maid appeared from the shadowy recesses of the bedroom, stooped over Miss Wimple and tied on a lacy nightcap, and then collected the empty glass from the doctor and left the room.
‘When will she be fit to travel?’ asked the marquess.
‘Hard to tell. A week. Two weeks. Of course, if these passengers weary you, they could be conveyed to the Queen Bess within, say, a couple of days. As you know, my lord, it is an excellent hostelry, not far from here, and our patient could be taken there lying in one of your carriages.’
‘We shall see,’ said the marquess. ‘You may retire for the night, Doctor. I shall wait with the patient until a servant arrives to watch over her. Ask thehousekeeper for a suitable maid. She herself has done her stint of duty at the bedside.’
The doctor left. Miss Wimple appeared to be trying to speak. The marquess drew even closer to the bed. ‘Belinda – Miss Earle?’ whispered Miss Wimple in a weak voice.
‘She is safe and well, madam. Your only concern is to regain your health.’
‘Wayward girl,’ said Miss Wimple in a stronger voice. ‘You are the Marquess of Frenton, Dr Patterson tells me.’
‘At your service, ma’am.’
‘My compliments to your wife, my lord.’
‘I am not married.’
‘Ah. You must, my lord, forgive my charge’s wayward ways. Running off with a footman indeed.’
Miss Wimple’s voice was becoming stronger by the minute.
‘Ran off with a footman, did she?’ asked the marquess.
‘Nothing came of it.’ Miss Wimple’s voice became suddenly weary. ‘A wicked, wicked girl, but even the footman did not want her.’ Her voice trailed away and her eyelids began to droop.
And having successfully demolished Belinda’s reputation in the eyes of the Marquess of Frenton, Miss Wimple folded her hands on her massive bosom and fell asleep.
4
There’s something undoubtedly in a fine air,
To know how to smile and be able to
‘Mr Clarence died and left me a legacy. How I longed to be free to travel in those long years during which he became a recluse.’
‘Why did you stay?’ asked Belinda curiously.
‘I was loyal. I never managed to save much money. I ran the house my own way. I could perhaps have moved to a livelier household, but might have been badly treated by some new mistress. But as to your future, miss, would it not be better to be mistress of this grand castle and a marchioness than to go to Bath in disgrace?’
Belinda rose to her feet and stooped and dropped a kiss somewhere in the air above Hannah’s head. ‘Dear Miss Pym,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I shall endure my stay with Great-Aunt Harriet and dream of my future as a spinster. You need not help me to bed. I am not really such a spoilt brat that I cannot look after myself.’
Hannah took herself off to her own bedroom. She chided herself for having been too forward too soon.Belinda obviously did not view the marquess with a loverlike eye and probably never would.
The marquess said good night to the Jordans and mounted the stairs. He decided to see how Miss Wimple was faring. He was startled at that lady’s shaven head, and then realized she had probably been leeched. The doctor was holding a glass to her lips, as she had just regained consciousness.
‘I am very pleased with our patient’s progress, my lord,’ said Dr Patterson.
‘I see she has recovered her senses.’ The marquess approached the bed. ‘You have finished leeching the lady’s head. It might be a good idea to tie a nightcap on her.’
‘Just about to do that,’ said the doctor. A maid appeared from the shadowy recesses of the bedroom, stooped over Miss Wimple and tied on a lacy nightcap, and then collected the empty glass from the doctor and left the room.
‘When will she be fit to travel?’ asked the marquess.
‘Hard to tell. A week. Two weeks. Of course, if these passengers weary you, they could be conveyed to the Queen Bess within, say, a couple of days. As you know, my lord, it is an excellent hostelry, not far from here, and our patient could be taken there lying in one of your carriages.’
‘We shall see,’ said the marquess. ‘You may retire for the night, Doctor. I shall wait with the patient until a servant arrives to watch over her. Ask thehousekeeper for a suitable maid. She herself has done her stint of duty at the bedside.’
The doctor left. Miss Wimple appeared to be trying to speak. The marquess drew even closer to the bed. ‘Belinda – Miss Earle?’ whispered Miss Wimple in a weak voice.
‘She is safe and well, madam. Your only concern is to regain your health.’
‘Wayward girl,’ said Miss Wimple in a stronger voice. ‘You are the Marquess of Frenton, Dr Patterson tells me.’
‘At your service, ma’am.’
‘My compliments to your wife, my lord.’
‘I am not married.’
‘Ah. You must, my lord, forgive my charge’s wayward ways. Running off with a footman indeed.’
Miss Wimple’s voice was becoming stronger by the minute.
‘Ran off with a footman, did she?’ asked the marquess.
‘Nothing came of it.’ Miss Wimple’s voice became suddenly weary. ‘A wicked, wicked girl, but even the footman did not want her.’ Her voice trailed away and her eyelids began to droop.
And having successfully demolished Belinda’s reputation in the eyes of the Marquess of Frenton, Miss Wimple folded her hands on her massive bosom and fell asleep.
4
There’s something undoubtedly in a fine air,
To know how to smile and be able to
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