Sir Philip's Folly (The Poor Relation Series Book 4) by M. C. Beaton Page A
Authors: M. C. Beaton
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polish the grate or anything like that. Jack will come in when we are gone and do the proper work, and Mary, the chambermaid, will do mine. We will work a little in the sitting-room to make sure no one is going to be around to disturb us and then we will unlock Arabella’s door.”
Miss Tonks fumbled at the ring of keys hanging from her belt until she found the right one. Then she opened the door to Lady Carruthers’s apartment. She then had to chide the earl softly on the noise he was making clearing the hearth. “Good servants
never
make a noise.” Miss Tonks herself did some perfunctory dusting and cushion-plumping until the fire was set.
She beckoned to the earl and selecting another key, turned it softly in the lock to Arabella’s room.
Arabella was not in bed. She was standing by the window looking forlornly down into the street. She turned round as Miss Tonks said, “Arabella,” and her eyes lit up.
The earl was furious to see how wan and pale she looked. Her hair was not braided or in ribbons but cascaded to her waist in rippling waves and curls.
“You are not ill, are you, dear?” asked Miss Tonks.
“No, Mama was so annoyed because I put my hair up and wore her gown. I am so bored and weary. Look at the sunshine outside. I feel like a prisoner.
I am a
prisoner.”
“You need feel like that no longer,” said Miss Tonks eagerly. “See, here is a spare key to your room and one to the outer door. I notice your mama’s servants do not leave the key in the door when you are locked in and so you can easily escape anytime you want.
“Come out. Come for a walk with me now,” urged the earl. “You look sorely in need of fresh air.”
“Mama will not be awake for another few hours,” said Arabella, her spirits soaring. “All I need to do is to lock the door behind me.” She quickly swung a cloak about her shoulders.
“I need a hat,” she suddenly exclaimed. “And my hair is loose. I need ribbons.”
“Leave it,” said the earl. “We will look like a servant walking his young lady.”
Oh, please let Letitia stay behind, Arabella silently prayed. I want him to myself. To her dismay, Miss Tonks gave a little cough and whispered, “You must not go out unchaperoned. I will fetch my bonnet and pelisse.”
“I do not think that will be necessary,” said the earl with a smile. “No one fashionable will be about at this hour.” He took off his baize apron and handed it to Miss Tonks.
“Come along,” hissed Arabella, fretting with impatience in case her mother or one of the servants would awake.
She did not relax until she and the earl were outside the hotel and walking down Bond Street towards Piccadilly. There was a brisk breeze and a strand of her flying hair blew across the earl’s mouth.
Arabella apologized and hurriedly braided her hair into a pigtail which she fastened with a handkerchief. The earl glanced at this tidying up of all that glorious river of shining hair with regret. He had a sudden vivid picture of what this high-breasted girl would look like naked with her hair tumbling around her body and then he angrily brushed the thought from his mind. She now looked once more like the schoolgirl her mother wished her to appear.
“You have not heard my momentous news,” he said. “I had an audience with the Prince Regent and His Royal Highness graciously said he would try to attend. We must just hope he does not find a more pressing engagement when the time arrives.”
Her eyes shone. “But don’t you see!” she cried. “Mama must surely be delighted to let me attend the ball. She cannot refuse.”
“I considered that. I think Lady Carruthers is so determined to marry again and so determined not to let anything stand in her way that she may find an excuse to keep you in your room. I must think of some plan before I approach her.”
“Mama views you in the light of a future husband,” said Arabella. “Perhaps… perhaps if you were to
imply
that as my future papa
Miss Tonks fumbled at the ring of keys hanging from her belt until she found the right one. Then she opened the door to Lady Carruthers’s apartment. She then had to chide the earl softly on the noise he was making clearing the hearth. “Good servants
never
make a noise.” Miss Tonks herself did some perfunctory dusting and cushion-plumping until the fire was set.
She beckoned to the earl and selecting another key, turned it softly in the lock to Arabella’s room.
Arabella was not in bed. She was standing by the window looking forlornly down into the street. She turned round as Miss Tonks said, “Arabella,” and her eyes lit up.
The earl was furious to see how wan and pale she looked. Her hair was not braided or in ribbons but cascaded to her waist in rippling waves and curls.
“You are not ill, are you, dear?” asked Miss Tonks.
“No, Mama was so annoyed because I put my hair up and wore her gown. I am so bored and weary. Look at the sunshine outside. I feel like a prisoner.
I am a
prisoner.”
“You need feel like that no longer,” said Miss Tonks eagerly. “See, here is a spare key to your room and one to the outer door. I notice your mama’s servants do not leave the key in the door when you are locked in and so you can easily escape anytime you want.
“Come out. Come for a walk with me now,” urged the earl. “You look sorely in need of fresh air.”
“Mama will not be awake for another few hours,” said Arabella, her spirits soaring. “All I need to do is to lock the door behind me.” She quickly swung a cloak about her shoulders.
“I need a hat,” she suddenly exclaimed. “And my hair is loose. I need ribbons.”
“Leave it,” said the earl. “We will look like a servant walking his young lady.”
Oh, please let Letitia stay behind, Arabella silently prayed. I want him to myself. To her dismay, Miss Tonks gave a little cough and whispered, “You must not go out unchaperoned. I will fetch my bonnet and pelisse.”
“I do not think that will be necessary,” said the earl with a smile. “No one fashionable will be about at this hour.” He took off his baize apron and handed it to Miss Tonks.
“Come along,” hissed Arabella, fretting with impatience in case her mother or one of the servants would awake.
She did not relax until she and the earl were outside the hotel and walking down Bond Street towards Piccadilly. There was a brisk breeze and a strand of her flying hair blew across the earl’s mouth.
Arabella apologized and hurriedly braided her hair into a pigtail which she fastened with a handkerchief. The earl glanced at this tidying up of all that glorious river of shining hair with regret. He had a sudden vivid picture of what this high-breasted girl would look like naked with her hair tumbling around her body and then he angrily brushed the thought from his mind. She now looked once more like the schoolgirl her mother wished her to appear.
“You have not heard my momentous news,” he said. “I had an audience with the Prince Regent and His Royal Highness graciously said he would try to attend. We must just hope he does not find a more pressing engagement when the time arrives.”
Her eyes shone. “But don’t you see!” she cried. “Mama must surely be delighted to let me attend the ball. She cannot refuse.”
“I considered that. I think Lady Carruthers is so determined to marry again and so determined not to let anything stand in her way that she may find an excuse to keep you in your room. I must think of some plan before I approach her.”
“Mama views you in the light of a future husband,” said Arabella. “Perhaps… perhaps if you were to
imply
that as my future papa
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