Amelia heard the other guests burst into conversation.
“That certainly put the cat among the pigeons,” she said to him as they followed Harriet down the hall toward Mr. Smithson’s study. “I doubt that they believed us.”
“I couldn’t care less what they think,” Quentin said with a grin. “It’s none of their business. So long as we marry as quickly as possible, any scandal we might have caused will be a nine days’ wonder.”
Amelia knew he was right, but she still couldn’t help but worry. She’d spent so long fearful of ruining her reputation and therefore her chances of making an eligible match, that now she’d secured one she felt as if she needed to wake up from some fabulous dream.
At the door to Mr. Smithson’s study, Harriet stopped and turned to look at them.
“I am so happy for you!” she gushed to Amelia before hugging her one last time. “Don’t let Mama and Papa bully you. They’re just disappointed to lose you as my companion. They can’t say yes or no about your betrothal because they are only your employers.”
“Harriet,” Amelia said, her eyes wide. “How do you even know that’s what this is about?”
Her charge all but rolled her eyes. “Do acquit me of having some sense, Miss Snowe,” she said with a laugh. “I knew the two of you had a history from the moment Lord Quentin introduced himself. And when you walked in just now you were both grinning. It hardly took any great powers of deduction on my part to guess what had happened.” She hugged Amelia again, then Quentin. “I’m so happy for you both I can hardly stand it!” she said with her own grin.
“Thank you, Miss Smithson,” Quentin said with a slight bow. “Now, wish us luck.”
“You’ve got it,” Harriet said before shooing them through the doorway and shutting the door behind them.
When the door opened, Mrs. Smithson, who had been in mid-tirade, stopped speaking and stared. “Well, it’s about time,” she said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. “What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Snowe?” she demanded. “Because I hope you know that I won’t keep a light-skirt in my employ no matter how much town bronze she might be able to promise my daughter.”
“Now, Kitty,” Mr. Smithson said with a wince, “there’s no need for that.”
“Mrs. Smithson,” Quentin said before Amelia could even respond, “I’m afraid I must ask you to apologize to my fiancée. She really does not deserve that sort of disrespect from you. Especially given how hard she’s worked to see to Harriet’s future.”
“Fiancée?” the older woman demanded.
“Congratulations, the both of you,” Mr. Smithson said, breaking out into a huge grin. “This is wonderful news, make no mistake.”
“But,” Mrs. Smithson began. “How could you? After all we’ve done for you! You ungrateful girl!”
She raised her hand as if she was going to slap Amelia, but Mr. Smithson was there first. He grabbed her hand in midair and held her fast. “No, Kitty. That’s not the way. If you wish to blame anyone, blame me. I’m the one who invited Lord Quentin. We were working on a business deal and I thought he might enjoy the party seeing as how he knew Miss Snowe from before.”
Mrs. Smithson’s eyes grew round. “A business deal?” she demanded. “He is a duke’s son! A duke’s son I wished to pair with our Harriet! He’s been tempted away by this hussy and our Harriet will be an old maid.”
“Mrs. Smithson, really,” Quentin said with a frown. “If you continue to speak of Miss Snowe in those terms I will be forced to take action against you.”
No longer frightened of losing her position, Amelia allowed herself to ask the question that had plagued her since she’d first been hired by the Smithsons. “Mrs. Smithson, why do you despise me so? I thought it might have been because you wished to ensure that I knew my place, but it seems to be more than that. Isn’t it?”
The other woman’s
“That certainly put the cat among the pigeons,” she said to him as they followed Harriet down the hall toward Mr. Smithson’s study. “I doubt that they believed us.”
“I couldn’t care less what they think,” Quentin said with a grin. “It’s none of their business. So long as we marry as quickly as possible, any scandal we might have caused will be a nine days’ wonder.”
Amelia knew he was right, but she still couldn’t help but worry. She’d spent so long fearful of ruining her reputation and therefore her chances of making an eligible match, that now she’d secured one she felt as if she needed to wake up from some fabulous dream.
At the door to Mr. Smithson’s study, Harriet stopped and turned to look at them.
“I am so happy for you!” she gushed to Amelia before hugging her one last time. “Don’t let Mama and Papa bully you. They’re just disappointed to lose you as my companion. They can’t say yes or no about your betrothal because they are only your employers.”
“Harriet,” Amelia said, her eyes wide. “How do you even know that’s what this is about?”
Her charge all but rolled her eyes. “Do acquit me of having some sense, Miss Snowe,” she said with a laugh. “I knew the two of you had a history from the moment Lord Quentin introduced himself. And when you walked in just now you were both grinning. It hardly took any great powers of deduction on my part to guess what had happened.” She hugged Amelia again, then Quentin. “I’m so happy for you both I can hardly stand it!” she said with her own grin.
“Thank you, Miss Smithson,” Quentin said with a slight bow. “Now, wish us luck.”
“You’ve got it,” Harriet said before shooing them through the doorway and shutting the door behind them.
When the door opened, Mrs. Smithson, who had been in mid-tirade, stopped speaking and stared. “Well, it’s about time,” she said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. “What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Snowe?” she demanded. “Because I hope you know that I won’t keep a light-skirt in my employ no matter how much town bronze she might be able to promise my daughter.”
“Now, Kitty,” Mr. Smithson said with a wince, “there’s no need for that.”
“Mrs. Smithson,” Quentin said before Amelia could even respond, “I’m afraid I must ask you to apologize to my fiancée. She really does not deserve that sort of disrespect from you. Especially given how hard she’s worked to see to Harriet’s future.”
“Fiancée?” the older woman demanded.
“Congratulations, the both of you,” Mr. Smithson said, breaking out into a huge grin. “This is wonderful news, make no mistake.”
“But,” Mrs. Smithson began. “How could you? After all we’ve done for you! You ungrateful girl!”
She raised her hand as if she was going to slap Amelia, but Mr. Smithson was there first. He grabbed her hand in midair and held her fast. “No, Kitty. That’s not the way. If you wish to blame anyone, blame me. I’m the one who invited Lord Quentin. We were working on a business deal and I thought he might enjoy the party seeing as how he knew Miss Snowe from before.”
Mrs. Smithson’s eyes grew round. “A business deal?” she demanded. “He is a duke’s son! A duke’s son I wished to pair with our Harriet! He’s been tempted away by this hussy and our Harriet will be an old maid.”
“Mrs. Smithson, really,” Quentin said with a frown. “If you continue to speak of Miss Snowe in those terms I will be forced to take action against you.”
No longer frightened of losing her position, Amelia allowed herself to ask the question that had plagued her since she’d first been hired by the Smithsons. “Mrs. Smithson, why do you despise me so? I thought it might have been because you wished to ensure that I knew my place, but it seems to be more than that. Isn’t it?”
The other woman’s
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