“Yes, exactly, so you see, it is nothing in the least bit objectionable to anyone of sense,” Miss Abigail said placidly. “Will he bite you?”
“No, ma’am, but perhaps you might just encourage the cat to leave the room. I expect these people would like us to go away, and Jeremiah is unlikely to descend if the cat remains.”
“Oh, to be sure. Come along, Clemmy.”
Letty glanced at her again. “Clemmy? I thought it was called Puss.”
“No, only Liza calls him Puss. His name is St. Clement’s,” Miss Abigail explained as she picked up the cat and stroked him. “Perhaps you do not know our English nursery rhymes, but because he is orange and yellow—”
“Oh, of course. ‘Oranges and lemons, sang the bells of St. Clement’s.’ I must say, though, he does not behave much like a saint.”
“No, and the name became too much for us to say every time, so he soon became just Clemmy. I’ll shut him up in my bedchamber for now, dear, and then I shall wait for you on the landing.”
“Thank you. I’ll be along directly.”
Although finding it difficult to ignore the couple in the bed, Letty forced herself to act as if she were alone with the monkey. She coaxed patiently, and was rewarded when he dropped to her shoulder and rubbed his face against her neck.
“Poor Jeremiah,” she crooned, stroking him and holding her muff open until he slid down her arm and curled up inside. Then, without another word, she left the room, shutting the door securely behind her.
In the hallway, she found Jenifry, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Miss Letty,” the maid said, “was there people in that bed? It looked like—”
“There were,” Letty said. “I don’t know whether to laugh or to shriek like Jeremiah. I begin to think that I have inherited a most unusual household, Jen, and I am not at all certain what I should do about it.”
“I expect you should tell his lordship, miss. That’s what you ought to do. Why, it’s wicked, what they’re doing. Unless, of course,” she added with a conscientious air, “those two are husband and wife.”
“You know they are not,” Letty said, “but I am not sending word of this to Papa. I don’t want you talking of it to anyone, either, particularly not to Elvira.”
“Lor’, I wouldn’t,” Jenifry said indignantly. “You know I’d never—”
“I do know,” Letty said, “and I did not mean to offend you. I just want to be certain you understand that I depend upon your discretion. If you write to your friends in Paris, you must not mention this, lest it somehow get back to Papa.”
“It’s not like you to keep secrets from his lordship, my lady.”
“If I’ve sunk to being my lady, I know you do not approve, but I am not keeping it from him, exactly. I just want to show him I can manage my own affairs.”
“This affaire is not yours, however, but someone else’s.”
Letty chuckled. “It is, indeed. Mercy, what a coil! But come along now. Miss Abigail will have shut up the cat and is doubtless impatiently awaiting our arrival. I wonder what Mrs. Linford will say about this.”
“Not much just now,” Jenifry said, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t you remember, miss? Jackson said she’s got the vicar with her.”
Stifling a childish urge to giggle, Letty led the way down to the first landing, where they did indeed find Miss Abigail awaiting them. She rubbed her hands on her skirt, and although no trace of dampness showed, Letty wondered if the elderly lady’s palms were sweating at the thought of telling her sister that Letty had discovered the house’s little secret.
“As you see, I’ve got him, Miss Abigail,” Letty said.
Nodding distractedly, Miss Abigail said, “I wonder if I might ask you not to call me Abigail, my dear. To have both you and Miranda calling me Abigail, which I promise even Papa never did, is quite unnerving. I much prefer Abby.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am,” Letty said. “I shall be delighted to call you so.”
Miss Abby led her to a drawing room larger than the one she had seen before, but the old lady had no sooner stepped inside than she stopped in her tracks, exclaiming, “Vicar! My goodness me, I thought you must have gone by now. That is to say … W-won’t you have another biscuit? Liza,” she added in an overloud voice to the girl, who was straightening items on a side table, “don’t you see that Mr. Shilston’s plate is empty? A hostess does not neglect a guest’s needs, my dear.”
“Vicar is just leaving,” Mrs. Linford said calmly. “He waited only to meet Letitia. Letitia, my dear, may I present Mr. Shilston, our vicar from St. Michael’s Chapel. Vicar, this is Lady Letitia Deverill, who now owns this house.”
“That was a very odd thing for your cousin to do, I must say, and ’tis fortunate indeed that your father had left you two dear ladies well fixed for life,” the vicar said in reedlike tones as he got to his feet and made a ponderous bow. He was a stout man of medium height, and when Letty held out her hand, his proved chilly when he grasped it. His grip was light, however, and his smile delightful. He said, “I am sure you must have found it odd, too, my lady, for if you even were acquainted with Augustus Benthall, I am sure I never knew of it.”
“You are kind to concern yourself, sir,” she said, gently removing her hand from his grasp.
“It may be no more than kindness to inquire,” Mrs. Linford said, “but I cannot imagine why you should know about our cousin’s affairs, Vicar. It would be even odder, in my mind, if you did, for Augustus rarely confided in anyone and his opinion of the church don’t bear repeating in polite company.”
“Yes, yes, my dear Mrs. Linford, but we must give him the benefit of our superior knowledge of religion, must we not? He was kind enough to establish your tenancy here, and thus I am convinced that he is now with our Lord, which is what I have said over and over to you, in hopes of comforting you for his loss.”
“My dear Vicar, Augustus has been gone for over nine months now. Any comfort we might have required—and in truth, I don’t believe we required any—would be long overdue had you not been so conscientious in the meantime about expressing it every time we have chanced to meet.”
“Ah, yes, but two ladies living all alone! One must attempt one’s poor best. I know that you, my dear ma’am, are quite capable of looking after yourself, but—”
“Do you think I am not?” Miss Abby demanded.
“That will do, Abigail,” Mrs. Linford said, glancing at Letty. “Letitia has come here to take a tour of the house, Vicar, so I daresay you will not object if I ring for Mrs. Hopworthy now, and arrange for her to do so.”
“Bless me, I have already stayed longer than I ought,” he said, bowing in her general direction but keeping his eyes on Letty. “You would prefer to show her the house yourself, I daresay, and I am keeping you from that pleasant duty. No need to ring for anyone to show me out, either,” he added. “If after all these years I do not know my way to your front door, I do not know anything at all.”
Despite this assurance, Mrs. Linford pulled the bell, and Jackson appeared with sufficient speed to inform Letty that he had been awaiting the summons. He glanced from her to Miss Abby, then nodded to the vicar and held open the door.
When it had shut again behind them, Mrs. Linford sighed and said, “I daresay there are vicars in this world who are not tedious bores. It would be a pleasant change of affairs if we could get one of them at St. Michael’s, but I daresay I should not speak ill of any servant of God. How do you do today, Letitia?”
“Very well, thank you, ma’am,” Letty said. “I hope you know you need not trouble to show me over the house yourself. I shall be quite content with Mrs. Hopworthy, I promise you.”
“Yes, I daresay. I’ll just ring for—”
“Not yet, Miranda,” Miss Abby said urgently. “There is something that we must … That is to say, a certain unfortunate event has occurred that—” Breaking off again with a gesture that set the ribbons and beads on her hat fluttering, she tried again. “Not unfortunate, no
,” she said. “At least, that is not the word I should use. The plain fact is that … well … Oh, dear Miranda, you will be so vexed!”
“I will certainly be vexed if you do not explain yourself, Abigail,” Mrs. Linford said austerely. “Liza,” she added, “it is time for your walk in the garden, my dear. Bid Lady Letitia good afternoon and then be on your way.”
When Liza had gone, albeit with visible reluctance, Mrs. Linford said, “Now, what on earth were you trying to tell me, Abigail?”
“Letitia knows. She didn’t peek, exactly, but …”
When she paused again, the resulting silence grew heavy. Mrs. Linford looked from her to Letty and back before she said, “You are unnecessarily cryptic, Abigail. Be plain, if you please, so that one need not guess what you mean to say.”
When Miss Abby’s mouth opened and shut several times, making her look like a distracted fish, Letty took pity on her.
“I am afraid Jeremiah escaped, ma’am,” she said. “I did not bring his chain today, because he can detach it from his collar himself, and I thought my muff would suffice to hold him. It did not, however, and I’m afraid he got upstairs and into one of the bedchambers before I could recapture him.”
Mrs. Linford’s eyes narrowed. “Jeremiah? Oh, yes, your pet monkey. Abigail was in raptures all morning at the expectation of his coming today. You say he escaped. Where is he now, if I may ask?”
“He is curled up, asleep, in my muff now,” Letty said, raising it slightly, “but your cat frightened him, you see, and he got away and dashed up the stairs.”
“I am happy to say that the cat is not mine. It belongs to Abigail.”
“They interrupted Lady Witherspoon, Miranda!” Miss Abby spoke in a rush, with the air of one confessing to a great crime.
Mrs. Linford looked long at her, then said calmly, “I see. Sit down, Letitia. It becomes plain that we must talk.”
“Yes, certainly, ma’am,” Letty said, taking a nearby chair.
Miss Abby chose a straight-backed chair by the door, and sat poised as if to take flight at any moment.
Letty said, “I don’t know what there is to discuss, ma’am. Surely you know that I cannot be associated with such goings-on. Indeed, I daresay you ought not to be associated with them, either. Lady Witherspoon’s assignations here must stop.”
Matter-of-factly Mrs. Linford said, “Where would you have her go instead?”
“Yes, where?” Miss Abby echoed. “She must go somewhere. Moreover, we have many other friends who have such difficulties as you cannot imagine, finding appropriate places in which to enjoy themselves. We are doing them a great service, my dear. You would not have us abandon them all, I hope.”
“All?” Letty felt her composure slipping. Only too easily could she imagine her father’s reaction to this discovery. “H-how many people are involved?”
“Only a dozen or so, I believe,” Mrs. Linford said.
“Oh, no, Miranda,” Miss Abby said. “I am sure we must have at least a score or more by now. You must have forgotten that both of the ladies Bar—”
“That will do, Abigail,” Mrs. Linford interjected sharply. “You must not name names, if you please. Suffice it to say, dear Letitia, that a number of people now depend upon us for the service we provide. I do not think there can be so many as twenty, but we will not argue the point.”
“Twenty,” Letty repeated. Even to her ears, her voice sounded weak.
“At least twenty,” Miss Abby said earnestly. “I am quite certain.”
“But how can you?”
“Why, I counted them!”
“I don’t mean—”
“I understood you, I believe,” Mrs. Linford said. “You desire to know how it is that we are able to accommodate them.”
“Yes … at least …” Letty fell silent, unsure that she had made herself clear but not at all certain how to phrase her questions to the two very odd old ladies.
Mrs. Linford went on, “It is quite simple, really. The women call upon us, as they would, in any event. Then the gentlemen arrive more discreetly through our mews and back garden. We are most fortunately placed here, you see. Since numerous houses share a central mews, one can approach this house from Green Street, Park Street, and South Audley Street, as well as from Upper Brook Street.”
“I meant …” Letty strove to retain her self-control, then began again. “If you will forgive my saying so, ma’am, neither you nor Miss Abby seems the sort to condone such activities, let alone to encourage them. Still, if so many people are finding accommodation here, you certainly must be encouraging them.”
“Well, goodness me, of course we encourage them,” Miss Abby said, her eyes wide. “We have our image to support, after all.”
“But that’s what I mean,” Letty said, trying to ignore the feeling that she had blinked and somehow ended up consorting with the inmates in Bedlam. “To protect your image, not to mention your reputations, I should think you would do all in your power to avoid associating with people who so casually break their marriage vows.”
Mrs. Linford stiffened. “We allow no married woman here who has not produced a proper heir for her husband, and we allow no unmarried women at all.”
“I … I see.” Taking care to avoid Jenifry’s gaze, Letty drew a deep breath and said, “Perhaps you might just explain the whole thing quite slowly to me, Mrs. Linford. Clearly, I do not understand all of what you are trying to say.”
“It is quite simple, really,” Miss Abby said.
“Hush, Abigail. I will explain, if you please.”
“Of course, Miranda. I would most likely make a mull of it, in any case.”
After a brief pause, during which Letty forced herself to remain silent, Mrs. Linford said, “It is most unfortunate that we should be reduced to such a course, naturally. And certainly we would be exceedingly distressed if our services were to become widely known. At present, the only people who know are persons with an even stronger motivation than we have to maintain silence. We do realize, however, that one day someone might speak too freely, in which event, we hope that our reputations will protect us and that no one will believe it. If by some mischance everyone did believe it, we would be ruined, of course, but when the whole thing began, we never expected it to come to this.”
“At the time, there was nothing else we could do,” Miss Abby said.
“How did it begin, then?” Letty asked.
“Oh, it was dreadful,” Miss Abby said. “Our dear friend, Lady Fram—”
“Abigail! No names,” Mrs. Linford snapped. In a gentler tone, she added, “You really must let me tell the tale, my dear.”
“Yes, of course, Miranda. My tongue just keeps rattling, I’m afraid.”
“It is true that our situation was frightful, Letitia,” Mrs. Linford said. “We were in sad straits when our brother, Sir Horace Frome, died. Everyone thought we were quite well to pass, however, because Papa had left us so and Horace had made no bones about telling everyone we were rich. After his death, however, we had that image to maintain, and although it was a struggle, we did our best.”
“You did, Miranda,” Miss Abby said. “You managed things with a truly magical touch. Had you managed everyone’s money from the outset, instead of allowing poor dear Horace to do so—though you had no choice, of course—we should all have grown quite as rich as he said we were, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, dear, but as you say, I could do nothing about Horace, and my efforts to look after the two of us would have failed had Fate not intervened. We had a dear friend some years ago, Letitia. She married well, but I am afraid that her husband proved unworthy of her. Worse, he was quite brutally abusive. Many was the time she fled to us in tears, bruised and battered from his beatings.”
“Oh, yes,” Miss Abby murmured. “He was a horrid man.”
“My Mr. Linford was no saint,” Mrs. Linford said. “I would be the last to say that he was, but he was kind to me. Moreover, he proved quite willing to provide a home f
or my dear sister after our parents died, which was more than his heir was willing to do when Mr. Linford passed on. Had it not been for Cousin Augustus letting us live here, Abigail and I might have ended in the poorhouse.”
“Oh, Miranda, you cannot believe that,” Miss Abby exclaimed. “Dearest Sally would never have allowed it. You know she would not.”
“Don’t be foolish, Abigail. If you can tell me what she could have done when she had been married no more than a week at the time, I should like to hear it.”
“Oh.” Miss Abby looked daunted. “Why, that is perfectly true. Sally was still in leading strings when Papa passed on, and Horace … Horace was her papa, you see, Letitia, and our brother, of course—Miranda said that, did she not? Poor Horace never had a feather to fly with except what Papa allowed him. Nor was he at all discriminating in his financial habits, and to our great misfortune, he controlled our trust for fifteen years before his death. The only good thing he did for us was to arrange for Miranda to control our trust afterward, so no one else ever learned what a fix he left us in when he died. He was only forty-four then, so most folks thought it a most untimely demise, but I can tell you, we were utterly—”
“You need say no more on that head, Abigail,” Mrs. Linford said. “Pray, let me get on with explaining the facts to Letitia, if you please.”
“Oh, yes, Miranda. I am exceedingly sorry to keep interrupting.”
“I believe I had got to when our friend begged us for assistance.”
Letty nodded. “Yes, ma’am, someone with an abusive husband.”
“Yes, quite horrid, but as good fortune would have it, she met someone more suitable and in the end managed to leave the brute and begin a new life in France.”
“I am happy for her, ma’am, but pray, what has this to do with the scene I interrupted upstairs just now?”
“Everything,” Miss Abby said fervently. “Just everything!”
Quelling her this time with a stern look, Mrs. Linford said, “We felt sorry for her, you see, and as you must realize, her deliverance did not occur overnight.”
Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 04] Page 9
