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Page 7


  “But Rosy always was a little liar, if you’ll forgive me for speaking so open, my lady. Why, I remember the time when MacTavish—that’s the gardener—caught her thieving apples from the orchard in broad daylight, and she turns round on him as bold as brass and says they’re her own apples what she brought along for a picnic.

  “Now, this here, my lady, is the late lordship’s—God rest his soul—dressing case what he took with him when he traveled. All gold fittings. Perhaps my lord would like to have it—What’s this? Well, I never!”

  Mrs. Judd had opened the dressing case and was staring at a folded piece of parchment. On it, in bold gothic letters, was the legend LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.

  Mrs. Judd crackled open the parchment and stared at the signatures, then at the date, and she suddenly sat down on the floor with her hand pressed to her corseted bosom.

  “It do be queer, my lady,” she said as Tilly stared in amazement, “but that there Rosy was telling the truth. This is a later will than the one that was found in the library. Don’t you think you’d better read it, my lady?”

  “No!” said Tilly in a harsh voice. “Considering the contents of the other will, I shudder to think what the old geezer put in this one. Probably,” she added bitterly, “my husband does not inherit unless he cuts my head off two months after the marriage.”

  “Oh, don’t take on so, my lady,” said Mrs. Judd. “His old lordship was all right in his head, although he did have his peculiar little ways.”

  “Do you know my husband’s address in Paris?” asked Tilly abruptly.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Then send… that… example of the noble marquess’s peculiar little ways to him. It’s his affair, not mine.”

  “My lady,” came Masters’s voice from the doorway. “Her Grace, the Duchess of Glenstraith, and Lady Aileen Dunbar have called. Shall I tell them you are indisposed?”

  “No,” said Tilly, thinking quickly. She might be husbandless but at least she was mistress of this splendid home and no longer a penniless companion to be bullied. “I shall receive them. Where have you put them?”

  “In the drawing room, my lady.”

  “Lead the way,” said Tilly, straightening her shoulders.

  It was only after she had entered the drawing room that Tilly realized she should have changed. Her hair was coming down and there was a smut on the end of her nose.

  The duchess was dressed in a tailored suit of a particularly noisy tartan. Her heavy face was free of its usual bristling hairs. Next to her on a Chesterfield sat Aileen, looking very jaunty in a sailor suit and a white straw hat embellished with red china cherries.

  “Well, you haven’t changed, Tilly,” barked the duchess. “Still a mess.”

  Tilly remained standing. “And how are you, Your Grace?” she asked sweetly. “Shaved, I see.”

  “There’s no need to be offensive,” snapped the duchess, turning purple.

  “Oh, really?” said Tilly, raising her brows. “You just were, you know.”

  “This was a mistake,” said the Duchess of Glenstraith. “You always were an ill-bred girl and your present unhappiness does not excuse your rudeness.”

  “Poor Tilly,” sighed Aileen. “I am engaged to Toby Bassett, you know. But perhaps in your present misery you do not wish to hear of anyone else’s good fortune.”

  “What misery?” snapped Tilly. “What rot is this?”

  “If you don’t know, Tilly dear, then I certainly shall be the last to tell you. There’s no need for you to be so cross. We were in the neighborhood and only dropped by to hold your hand.”

  Tilly marched to the window and stared out. A muddy traveling carriage was drawn up outside the house. “You didn’t drop in, you vultures,” she said, swinging around. “You traveled especially from London to relay some piece of spiteful codswallop. So out with it!”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Aileen with her maddening silvery laugh. “Come, Mama! We are obviously not welcome.”

  “Wait a bit!” said Tilly, standing squarely in front of them. “What about my wages?”

  “Your wages!” gasped the duchess. “And you with all this. Oh, selfish child!”

  Tilly pushed her chin forward until her face was almost touching that of the duchess. “You owe me wages,” she said coldly. “You will send them to me or I shall sue. It’ll look great in the newspapers… the great and charitable Duchess of Glenstraith won’t pay a working girl!”

  “Come, Mama,” said Aileen again. “You must excuse Tilly. She is smarting at seeing her own name in the newspapers.”

  Aileen and her mother moved toward the doors, which were quickly swung open by Masters before they could reach them. The cook could be seen sliding quickly through the green baize door at the far side of the hall, and the black skirt of the housekeeper flickered nimbly along the upper landing.

  The duchess paused in the hallway. “I just want to say one thing to you, Tilly. I—”

  “Oh, make a noise like a hoop and bowl off,” snapped Tilly, turning on her heel and retreating to the drawing room. She slammed the doors behind her and stood with her back against them, feeling her heart thudding against her ribs. Then she saw the folded newspaper lying coyly on the sofa, where it had been left by her visitors.

  It seemed to take her a very long time to walk across the room and pick up the newspaper. STRANGE WEDDING NIGHT FOR PEER OF THE REALM seemed to leap at her from the page.

  She read it slowly and carefully and then read it again. Then she sat down and clutched her stomach. I can’t bear any more of this pain, thought Tilly. I won’t!

  The portraits of the Hepplefords stared down at her in disdain. Tilly raised her head and stared back. “No, damn you,” she cried, shaking her fist at their painted faces. “I’ll get even with you Hepplefords yet.” She rose and rang the bell.

  Masters appeared as imperturbable as ever.

  “My lady?”

  “I have a traveling carriage, I assume?” said Tilly, striding up and down the room. “A fast one?”

  “There is his lordship’s Renault… his new motorcar, my lady. Gaskell, the chauffeur, handles her very well, but it is an open car, my lady, and the weather is inclement.”

  “Blow the weather,” said Tilly. “I won’t melt. Get the car round.”

  Tilly paced up and down the drive some fifteen minutes later, swathed in an ulster and with a yellow sou’wester on her head, fretting with impatience while Gaskell lit the acetylene lamps, for the day was dark.

  Finally the engine was turning over and Tilly climbed in the back.

  “London, Gaskell!” cried the Marchioness of Heppleford, hanging on to her hat. “And don’t spare the horsepower!”

  Some thirty minutes later, the Duchess of Glenstraith’s carriage horses neighed and bridled as two speed-mad fiends hurtled past the carriage at thirty miles per hour.

  “Maniacs!” yelled the duchess, thrusting her great head and shoulders through the carriage window.

  She did not know that Tilly was hell-bent on reaching the Glenstraith town house before the duchess arrived home.

  Some four hours later Gaskell was moodily polishing the lamps of the car outside the Duchess of Glenstraith’s house and wondering whether his mistress was mad. He was soaked to the skin, but had refused to go indoors to dry himself at the kitchen fire. He loved the Renault more than anything in his life and shuddered to think what might happen to it if he left it alone for a minute. The rain had stopped, but black and heavy clouds piling up behind the buildings promised a deluge to come. “It’s all right for her ladyship,” grumbled Gaskell to himself. She was partly protected by the hood at the back, but he had to brave the elements unprotected in the front. Funny, he mused, I wouldn’t have thought her ladyship would be thoughtless where servants were concerned He broke off his musings as the door of the mansion opened and Tilly appeared, followed by a young female who was carrying a battered suitcase.

  “Home!” said Tilly triumphant
ly.

  As if in answer the heavens opened and Gaskell steered the car through the glistening streets, feeling as if he were piloting a ship on a stormy sea.

  But he got a surprise one mile outside the limits of the city. Tilly called to him to stop at a large and comfortable-looking inn. Then she issued brisk instructions. Gaskell was to pay the ostler to look after his beloved car by putting it somewhere under cover. Then he, Gaskell, was to go directly upstairs to the bedchamber that Tilly would reserve for him, divest himself of his wet clothes, and give them to the chambermaid to dry and she, Tilly, would send him up a substantial meal.

  Having seen to these arrangements and having brushed aside the startled and voluble thanks of the delighted Gaskell, Tilly settled down in the inn parlor and looked with satisfaction at her companion.

  “Won’t that old trout be as mad as fire when she finds you’ve scarpered,” she said.

  Francine stared at her severely. “You must not use such schoolboyish expressions, Tilly.”

  “Oh, don’t change me now,” wailed Tilly. “Wait until we get home. But, tell me again, Francine. Do you think you can do it?”

  Francine looked at the flushed and earnest face opposite her. “Of course,” she said calmly. “I, Francine, am the best lady’s maid ever. It will be… how you call it…? a challenge. But you must do everything I say, my lady.”

  “I’d rather you call me Tilly, like you used to,” said Tilly shyly. “I’ve been pretty lonely.”

  “No,” said Francine, “it would not be comme il faut What if one of your servants should hear me?”

  “Oh, all right,” said Tilly, crinkling up her eyes.

  “That will have to go for a start, my lady,” said Francine. “That trick with the eyes. You have very pretty eyes, but how can anyone see them when you twist them so?”

  “You’ll do,” said Tilly happily. “I’ll change, you’ll see. Philip won’t recognize me when he comes home… if he ever comes home.”

  Rebellion had arisen in Tilly’s much humiliated breast after she had read the newspaper item. The blood of her battling ancestors had seemed to course in her veins. She was not going to go down without fighting. It had struck her that perhaps Francine’s undoubted genius could transform her in some way. The startled Francine had agreed. There was, she had said, enough raw material to work on. And the clever Francine knew that by the time she was finished with Tilly, then she, Francine, would be famous among ladies’ maids.

  She suddenly looked sympathetically across at Tilly, who was eating huge slices of fruitcake as if they were going to be her last (Which they are, thought Francine), and said, “I can promise you beauty, my lady. I cannot promise you love.”

  “Just give me the one,” said Tilly, “and I’ll just see what I can do about the other.”

  The Marquess of Heppleford was suffering from burnt-out passion and a guilty conscience. He sat at his desk in the apartment in the Avenue Foch and stared moodily at the pile of unopened correspondence on his desk. He had just spent what should have been two glorious weeks with his mistress in the South of France, but the whole thing had been haunted by Tilly’s hurt face and accusing eyes.

  As his man unpacked his trunks he opened the first letter with a sigh. It was from one of his aunts, Lady Mary Swingleton. Pinned to the top of the letter was that cutting from the newspaper. Underneath, Lady Mary had given vent to her lacerated feelings: That the marquess should marry this freak of a girl was bad enough, but that he should have the family name dragged through the columns of the gutter press was outside of enough!

  The marquess crumpled it and threw it into the wastepaper basket. He picked up the next one and opened it.

  Much to his surprise, his father’s will fell out, accompanied by a brief note from his steward explaining how the will had been found. The marquess read it slowly. “‘A most ingenious paradox,’” he quoted bitterly. Then he picked up the will again. “Let me see,” he muttered. “Who gets the moneybags if I don’t comply with the terms? Cyril Nettleford! My god, over my dead body.” Cyril Nettleford, his nephew, was a spotty youth with doubtful sexual tastes and worse manners.

  I shall contest it, thought the marquess, though I don’t think it’ll do much good. I’m supposed to show evidence of an heir within twelve months! What will my beloved wife say to that? Probably, “Oh, rats!”

  He leaned back in his chair and called to his man, “Pack the bags again. We’re leaving for home.”

  Home.

  He had a sudden vision of Chennington with its quiet rooms and cool lawns. Then the picture was marred by a vision of Tilly. His home was no longer his own. He now had to share it with a tomboy who would no doubt rebuke him for his well-broadcast infidelity in the language of the stables.

  His gentleman’s gentleman, Lennox, coughed discreetly. “Does your lordship wish to apprise her ladyship of our return?”

  “No. Oh, damn it, yes.”

  Had Tilly seen the newspaper? he wondered. No doubt some well-meaning friend would tell her. Yet, after all, he had nothing to feel guilty about. They had a business arrangement. But he should never have caused her such humiliation. He would make it up to her, he decided.

  And then he remembered that he had to produce an heir.

  “He’s coming home,” cried Tilly, dancing into the drawing room and waving a marconigram. “He’s coming home!” She smiled and crinkled up her eyes, and received a glass of iced water straight in the face.

  As she choked and sputtered Francine put down the glass and said grimly, “I had to do it, my lady. Shock tactics. You must never again twist the eyes up so. Jamais!”

  “Oh, Francine, you are a slave driver,” moaned Tilly, dabbing her eyes with the towel that Francine had handed to her. “I’m absolutely starving, my eyes are sore from reading, my back is sore from sitting up so straight, I’m tired of mock dinners and mock tea parties, and I’d like to go riding.”

  “Not yet,” was all Francine would say. “It is time for your rehearsal, and you must pretend it is real.” She rang the bell on the wall beside her and a group of ten servants, including Masters, the butler, and Mrs. Judd, the housekeeper, came in.

  “Now,” said Francine, smoothing down the folds of her new black silk gown, “you must all pretend you are actors and that I am your producer. Lady Tilly, this is your house party and you must work the imagination and pretend these are your guests. Now, begin!”

  The servants enjoyed these mock parties immensely and played their parts with gusto. Mrs. Judd made a formidable duchess; Mr. Masters a boring elder statesmen; and James, the second footman, a wild young man whose conversation showed an alarming tendency to become too intimate. Among them they managed to represent all the social embarrassments that Tilly might meet, while Francine carefully listened and schooled Tilly’s replies.

  Francine looked at her protégée with some complacency—as well she might. Rigorous dieting and the right sort of exercise had melted away Tilly’s puppy fat like magic, leaving her with a slim figure, rounded in the right places. Her red hair was brushed until it shone and fell in soft, natural waves on her forehead. Her skin was creamy with only a faint blush of pink on her cheeks, which owed nothing to art. She was wearing a high-collared dress of smoky-blue tulle that emphasized the blue of her eyes. Her gown had the latest thing in hobble skirts, the narrow hemline, as the lady’s maid pointed out, being an excellent device for curbing Tilly’s long mannish strides.

  At last the rehearsal was over and Tilly was flushed with success, for Francine had hardly had to correct her at all.

  “Now we will have a real house party for his lordship’s return,” said Francine.

  Tilly’s face fell in disappointment. “I—I wanted to be alone with him,” she said shyly.

  “And what good would that do?” asked the lady’s maid. “It is better that he sees you in a crowd of people first. The men, they always want what is elusive. And we shall ask the duchess and her so-horrible fille.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, no!” wailed Tilly. “Anyone but them. Anyway, they won’t come.”

  “Yes, they will,” said Francine. “They will want to see exactly how your marriage has failed.”

  “Mr. Toby Bassett,” announced Masters.

  Francine whipped up her workbasket, escaped to a chair in the corner of the room, and then bent her black head over her work, looking the very picture of a correct lady’s maid.

  Tilly rose gracefully to her feet. “Mr. Bassett!” she exclaimed in a soft voice, quite unlike her usual ringing tones. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  Toby sat down suddenly on the nearest chair, holding his hat and cane, since society decreed that a gentleman should never surrender hat and cane to the butler on making a call, as it might imply that he meant to stay longer than the prescribed time.

  He looked at Tilly with his familiar brooding stare.

  “You are Miss Burningham… I mean, you are Philip’s wife, aren’t you?”

  Tilly gave a light, silvery laugh that ran carefully up trie scale and down again. Mrs. Humphry, in her book Manners for Women, which Tilly had studied at length, said,

  There is no greater ornament to conversation than the ripple of silvery notes that forms the perfect laugh. It makes the person who evokes it feel pleased with himself, and even invests what he has said with a charm of wit and humor that might not be otherwise observed.

  But Toby continued to smolder at her and in no way looked pleased with himself, so Tilly said lightly, “Don’t I look the same, Mr. Bassett?”

  “No, you don’t,” said Toby. “In fact, you look like all the other ladies… you know, pretty.”

  Tilly glowed with pleasure and said, “Thank you,” although she felt his remark had not been meant as a compliment.

  There was an awkward silence. Then Tilly remembered Masters’s maxim. “If conversation fails, my lady, ring for tea.”

 

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Hasty Death emm-2 Read onlineEdwardian Murder Mystery 02; Hasty Death emm-2The Constant Companion Read onlineThe Constant CompanionHamish Macbeth 14 (1999) - Death of a Scriptwriter Read onlineHamish Macbeth 14 (1999) - Death of a ScriptwriterGinny Read onlineGinnyHamish Macbeth 10 (1994) - Death of a Charming Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 10 (1994) - Death of a Charming ManHamish Macbeth 03; Death of an Outsider hm-3 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 03; Death of an Outsider hm-3The Love from Hell ar-11 Read onlineThe Love from Hell ar-11The Scandalous Lady Wright (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 4) Read onlineThe Scandalous Lady Wright (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 4)Hamish Macbeth 17 (2001) - Death of a Dustman Read onlineHamish Macbeth 17 (2001) - Death of a DustmanHamish Macbeth 13 (1997) - Death of a Dentist Read onlineHamish Macbeth 13 (1997) - Death of a DentistThe Paper Princess (The Royal Ambition Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Paper Princess (The Royal Ambition Series Book 7)Rainbird's Revenge: HFTS6 Read onlineRainbird's Revenge: HFTS6The Perfect Gentleman (The Love and Temptation Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Perfect Gentleman (The Love and Temptation Series Book 7)Sir Philip's Folly (The Poor Relation Series Book 4) Read onlineSir Philip's Folly (The Poor Relation Series Book 4)The Witches' Tree--An Agatha Raisin Mystery Read onlineThe Witches' Tree--An Agatha Raisin MysteryDeath of an Outsider Read onlineDeath of an OutsiderHamish MacBeth 03 (1988) - Death of an Outsider Read onlineHamish MacBeth 03 (1988) - Death of an OutsiderAgatha Raisin and the Perfect Paragon Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Perfect ParagonDeath of a Chimney Sweep Read onlineDeath of a Chimney SweepThe Dreadful Debutante (The Royal Ambition Series Book 1) Read onlineThe Dreadful Debutante (The Royal Ambition Series Book 1)Something Borrowed, Someone Dead Read onlineSomething Borrowed, Someone DeadAgatha Raisin and The Murderous Marriage ar-5 Read onlineAgatha Raisin and The Murderous Marriage ar-5The Highland Countess Read onlineThe Highland CountessDeath of a Chimney Sweep hm-1 Read onlineDeath of a Chimney Sweep hm-1The Skeleton in the Closet Read onlineThe Skeleton in the ClosetSusie Read onlineSusieAgatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas Goodbye Read onlineAgatha Raisin and Kissing Christmas GoodbyeRegency Gold (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 2) Read onlineRegency Gold (The Regency Intrigue Series Book 2)The Marquis Takes a Bride Read onlineThe Marquis Takes a BrideHamish Macbeth 16 (1999) - A Highland Christmas Read onlineHamish Macbeth 16 (1999) - A Highland ChristmasDeath of a Liar Read onlineDeath of a LiarHamish Macbeth 01; Death of a Gossip hm-1 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 01; Death of a Gossip hm-1Love and Lady Lovelace (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 8) Read onlineLove and Lady Lovelace (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 8)Death of an Honest Man Read onlineDeath of an Honest ManThe Desirable Duchess Read onlineThe Desirable DuchessDeception (Daughters of Mannerling 3) Read onlineDeception (Daughters of Mannerling 3)A Highland Christmas hm-16 Read onlineA Highland Christmas hm-16Polly Read onlinePollyThe Savage Marquess Read onlineThe Savage MarquessAgatha Raisin 03 (1994) - The Potted Gardener Read onlineAgatha Raisin 03 (1994) - The Potted GardenerPushing Up Daisies Read onlinePushing Up DaisiesDeath Of An Addict Read onlineDeath Of An AddictBanishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1) Read onlineBanishment (Daughters of Mannerling 1)Amaryllis Read onlineAmaryllisHamish MacBeth 06 (1991) - Death of a Snob Read onlineHamish MacBeth 06 (1991) - Death of a SnobThe Paper Princess Read onlineThe Paper PrincessHamish Macbeth 06; Death of a Snob hm-6 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 06; Death of a Snob hm-6The Dreadful Debutante Read onlineThe Dreadful DebutanteAgatha Raisin and the Fairies of Fryfam Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Fairies of FryfamHamish Macbeth 22 (2006) - Death of a Dreamer Read onlineHamish Macbeth 22 (2006) - Death of a DreamerDishing the Dirt Read onlineDishing the DirtMinerva Read onlineMinervaDeath of a Nag hm-11 Read onlineDeath of a Nag hm-11Hamish Macbeth 18 (2002) - Death of a Celebrity Read onlineHamish Macbeth 18 (2002) - Death of a CelebrityQuadrille (The Love and Temptation Series Book 5) Read onlineQuadrille (The Love and Temptation Series Book 5)Death of a Glutton hm-8 Read onlineDeath of a Glutton hm-8The Westerby Sisters (Changing Fortunes Series) Read onlineThe Westerby Sisters (Changing Fortunes Series)The Scandalous Marriage (The Dukes and Desires Series Book 7) Read onlineThe Scandalous Marriage (The Dukes and Desires Series Book 7)The Adventuress: HFTS5 Read onlineThe Adventuress: HFTS5Death of a Valentine Read onlineDeath of a ValentineDeath of a Nag Read onlineDeath of a NagDeath of a Dustman hm-17 Read onlineDeath of a Dustman hm-17Hamish Macbeth 09 (1993) - Death of a Travelling Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 09 (1993) - Death of a Travelling ManThe Loves of Lord Granton (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 2) Read onlineThe Loves of Lord Granton (The Changing Fortunes Series, Vol. 2)Agatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison ar-19 Read onlineAgatha Raisin and a Spoonful of Poison ar-19To Dream of Love Read onlineTo Dream of LoveAgatha Raisin 04 (1995) - The Walkers of Dembley Read onlineAgatha Raisin 04 (1995) - The Walkers of DembleyHamish MacBeth 01 (1985) - Death of a Gossip Read onlineHamish MacBeth 01 (1985) - Death of a GossipDeath of a Maid hm-23 Read onlineDeath of a Maid hm-23Belinda Goes to Bath Read onlineBelinda Goes to BathDeath of a Kingfisher Read onlineDeath of a KingfisherDeath of a Charming Man hm-10 Read onlineDeath of a Charming Man hm-10Death of a Prankster hm-7 Read onlineDeath of a Prankster hm-7The Miser of Mayfair: HFTS1 Read onlineThe Miser of Mayfair: HFTS1Hamish Macbeth 05; Death of a Hussy hm-5 Read onlineHamish Macbeth 05; Death of a Hussy hm-5A Governess of Distinction (Endearing Young Charms Book 6) Read onlineA Governess of Distinction (Endearing Young Charms Book 6)The Westerby Inheritance Read onlineThe Westerby InheritanceDeath of a Hussy Read onlineDeath of a HussyHamish MacBeth 07 (1998) - Death of a Prankster Read onlineHamish MacBeth 07 (1998) - Death of a PranksterHamish Macbeth 20 (2004) - Death of a Poison Pen Read onlineHamish Macbeth 20 (2004) - Death of a Poison PenMiss Tonks Turns to Crime Read onlineMiss Tonks Turns to CrimeEdwardian Murder Mystery 01; Snobbery with Violence emm-1 Read onlineEdwardian Murder Mystery 01; Snobbery with Violence emm-1Agatha Raisin and the Wizard of Evesham Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Wizard of EveshamHamish Macbeth 12 (1996) - Death of a Macho Man Read onlineHamish Macbeth 12 (1996) - Death of a Macho ManYvonne Goes to York Read onlineYvonne Goes to YorkA Highland Christmas Read onlineA Highland ChristmasSweet Masquerade (The Love and Temptation Series Book 4) Read onlineSweet Masquerade (The Love and Temptation Series Book 4)Agatha Raisin and the Witch of Wykhadden Read onlineAgatha Raisin and the Witch of WykhaddenThe Dead Ringer Read onlineThe Dead RingerAgatha Raisin 05 (1996) - The Murderous Marriage Read onlineAgatha Raisin 05 (1996) - The Murderous MarriageAgatha Raisin 07 (1998) - The Wellspring of Death Read onlineAgatha Raisin 07 (1998) - The Wellspring of DeathAgatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns ar-22 Read onlineAgatha Raisin: As the Pig Turns ar-22