The Virtuous Ward (Sweet Deception Regency #5) (11 page)

"You have to admit that she agreed to help without a single argument."

"She'd nothin' to lose and everything' to gain, if you ask me," Betta responded, unwilling to give an inch. "Didn't lose a cent, did she now and you'll be wearin' her clothes all over London and looking like a regular princess."

"Oh, I do like the sound of that," Amity chuckled. "I shall walk with my nose in the air and everyone shall fall down in awe."

"More certain you'll do the fallin', iffen you don't look where you're goin' "

Amity turned to grin at her abigail and a moment later crashed into a very substantial body. She whirled to apologize and was confronted by a handsome soldier whose empty sleeve was pinned to the shoulder of his uniform jacket. As she opened her mouth to speak, she noticed the sudden pallor of the man's face and the dots of perspiration that had broken out on his forehead.

"Hartshorn, Betta," she whispered, knowing her abigail always carried ample supplies of necessities.

While the girl dug in her reticule, Amity pushed the weakened man against the wall of the building, where he sagged, held up only by Amity's strong arms. Betta opened the vial and thrust it beneath the soldier's nose. It took two whiffs before his eyes fluttered open and his head jerked away from the burning aroma.

"Blimey," he said with disgust.

"Are you better?" Amity asked.

"I'll never smell again." His voice was raspy but there was a rather shaky grin on his face and his brown eyes twinkled at the two ladies now giggling at his words.

"I'm so sorry I bumped into you," Amity said. "Did I hurt you?" She indicated his missing arm and his smile widened.

"Twas not me arm giving me trouble, Miss, but me belly," he said. "I've neglected to eat much today and I was feeling a bit rocky."

"Well that's easily attended to," Amity said taking charge of the situation in her usual high-handed manner. "Bring him along, Betta."

In his weakened condition, the soldier was unable to gainsay the little abigail and in no time at all the three were seated in a nearby tearoom. Amity ordered sandwiches and pastries and then introduced herself and Betta to the bemused young man.

"Jason Conway, miss. Was a sergeant before the Frogs took me arm. Been in London several days and now I suspect I've died and gone to heaven for I'm surrounded by angels."

Amity liked the look of the soldier with his thick thatch of hair and cheeky smile. Now that the color had returned to his face, he looked tan and healthy despite the missing arm. When the food arrived he ate with deliberation although she suspected his inclination was to cram everything into his mouth. It was apparent that it had been quite awhile since he had eaten and his uniform was much the worse for wear. If not penniless, he was close to it.

"What did you do before the war, Jason?" Amity asked as she sipped her tea.

"Worked for a solicitor. I've a head for numbers, though lot of use that'll do me," he said, bitterness creeping into his voice for the first time.

"Why ever not?"

"There's many a soldier back from the war that finds that there are no jobs available. Can't work without a recommendation and the army's not much of a reference."

"I see," Amity said, exchanging glances with Betta who remembered being in a similar situation. "Are there many men out of work?"

"Plenty, miss, and it's a bleedin' shame. Beggin' your pardon, ladies," he said nodding to Amity and Betta. "There's more coming to London every day and the government has done nothing to provide for ex-soldiers."

"Someone should do something," Amity said, placing her cup in the saucer with a decisive clink of china.

"A few of us have gotten together to pool our resources. Those that got jobs try and help those what ain't."

"Have you tried the agencies?" Betta interjected.

"No good, miss. Not without a character."

"There must be hundreds of jobs in this city," Amity said. "All we'd need to do is locate a few and then as word got out we could find others. I've made a lot of friends since I arrived and I could ask if they have need of any staff."

Jason glanced at Betta as if to ask if her mistress were deranged and the abigail patted his arm for encouragement.

"It's just Miss Amity's way," she said. "She does tend to leap in to things but she's of good heart. I know it's presumptuous of us to intrude on your affairs but in this case I think she might have an idea."

While Betta and Jason had been talking, Amity's mind was busy. She had been feeling quite useless since her arrival in town. Used to managing the affairs of Beech House, she could not spend all of her time in attending parties and shopping. She liked the idea that she could somehow put her talents for getting to know people to some advantage. Her thoughts jumped from one problem to another. Suddenly she looked at Betta and Jason, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"I have just thought of an excellent idea. My guardian has a large staff both in the townhouse and the stables. I can talk to Putnam and see if we might not take on a few extra men. They could work for several weeks and then I will write them a recommendation. The letter need not specify how long they worked for Lord Kampford. Do you think that might work?"

Jason opened his mouth but no words came out. He could not quite believe that she was serious and yet when he glanced at the abigail, the girl nodded her head in agreement.

"I do believe you are an angel," he growled, his voice hoarse. "Would you do that?"

"Well of course I will, Jason. After all you fought for my freedom too, so it's only fair that I do something for you. I shall speak to Putnam this afternoon and you shall send round several men. Now then," she continued, "what shall we do with you?"

"Me, miss?" Jason asked. "I thought I might be one of the servants."

"Piffle. A man good with numbers is hard to find. Let me see." She stared at the table her face pinched in concentration. "Bircher? No. Ah! Burgess. Mr. Johannas Burgess. He's the man for you."

"If I might inquire, miss," Jason said, grinning across at the efficient Miss Fraser. "Just who is Johannas Burgess?"

"Man's an importer I've corresponded with for several years. My estate manager Henderson put me on to him and I've found him quite useful in the past. In fact, if I'm not mistaken," Amity stared out the windows at the busy street beyond, "we're not far from his office."

Once more Jason Conway found himself in the clutches of Betta, while Amity paid the charges and started out the door. He and the little abigail had to hurry to keep up with the rapid footsteps of the bustling Miss Fraser and were breathless by the time they arrived at their destination.

"I'll just duck in here and have a word with Mr. Burgess. Please to wait, Jason. We shall be out quite soon."

Thus saying she left the astonished man and disappeared up the stairs of the building, followed by her abigail. Jason never knew what was said, but when she returned he had a position starting the next day and a week's advance on his salary for suitable clothing and food. Before he could do more than babble his thanks, she was taking her leave.

"I shall send Betta around with a message if I am successful with Putnam, but I have little doubt he will be happy to cooperate," she said. "We shall meet soon and work out a more thorough plan. Good day, Mr. Conway."

Amity and Betta discussed the problem all the way back to the townhouse. The abigail suggested that she might ask among the servants in other houses and thus widen their circle of opportunity. The servants network was efficient, there was little that went on upstairs that the downstairs brigade was not aware of. Amity was delighted with the whole project and on her arrival went to work cajoling Putnam into hiring a few of the soldiers. Their project was now off to a good start.

A week later her wardrobe began to arrive and Amity was anxious to show off her new garments. Standing in front of the mirror, she felt almost elegant. The lime green walking dress was tailored to show off her slim figure. The darker green trim on the edge of the jacket minimized her height and was repeated at the wrists and again at the bottom of her skirt. Now that she was dressed in style, she was eager to be abroad and accompanied by Betta and the ever-present Muffin made her way out of the townhouse for a walk in the park. It was several hours later that she glanced in dismay at her lapel watch.

"Oh, Betta, we're late for nuncheon again," Amity said, hurrying through the gates of the park. "Lady Grassmere made me promise just two days ago that I would be more careful of the time."

Amity sighed aware of her shortcomings but there were so many sights to see in London that every time she went out she forgot to pay much attention to the passage of time.

"Miss Amity," Betta called, trying to keep pace with the longer strides of her mistress. Even Muffin had fallen behind and the abigail called once again. "Miss Amity, have mercy. I can't keep up with your steps and if his lordship sees you he will not think you are behaving in a proper ladylike manner."

"Blast!"

"Miss Amity!" Betta cried in horror. "You promised his lordship you wouldna say that dreadful word."

Amity stopped so suddenly in her tracks that the hurrying little figure bumped into her back. The sight of the heaving bosom of her breathless abigail brought an expression of contrition to Amity's frowning countenance. She heaved a sigh of resignation.

"It is prodigious difficult to be a lady," Amity muttered. "Every rule seems to contradict another. Don't be late! Don't rush! In faith, Betta, I cannot do both."

The little abigail grinned cheekily at her mistress. "It's a sorry life you lead."

"Hah! Great lot of sympathy you give me." Amity returned the grin then tapped her foot impatiently as she stared at Muffin who was padding his way to join them. "Come along, old fellow. If you cannot hold a better pace than that, we shall leave you behind."

The dog raised reproachful eyes to his mistress' face but did not in any way indicate that he was bothered by the threat. He was almost abreast of the two girls when the sound of loud cursing forced him to stop once more.

"Move, you bleedin' bag of bones!"

A whip cracked and Amity's attention was caught by the sight of a dilapidated cart drawn by a nag of ancient, though not of obvious noble, lineage. The carter was standing up in his seat, in turn berating and whipping the pathetic horse. A feeling of rage filled Amity and without hesitation she stalked to the side of the cart.

"Blast ye! Git along," shouted the carter, laying about with his whip.

"Stop that caterwauling at once, you ruffian!" Amity demanded.

The very unexpectedness of the sight of the fashionably dressed young lady, caused the carter to lose his balance and as his arms flailed to keep from falling off his perch, he dropped the whip. Amity pounced on the offending article, snatching it off the cobblestones and glaring up at the choleric face of the man.

"For shame, you blackguard," Amity sneered, her voice an icy stream of contempt. "To treat this fine animal in such an inhumane manner."

The mare in question, drooped in her traces, unaware of the tumult raging over her head. Betta moved closer to her mistress as if her slight figure might protect the raging amazon who had so forgotten herself as to create a public disturbance.

"Miss Amity," Betta hissed in agony. "Do come away. What will his lordship say?"

"Stop your fussing, girl. Would you have me abandon a creature in need of protection?"

Amity waved her hand in the general direction of the pathetic animal in front of the cart. There was a bedraggled pink ribbon tied around her forelock that hung in tattered elegance over one eye. The malnourished mare was brown in color with a coat in dire need of grooming. There were patches of white around her neck where the rubbing harness had worn away the hair and spots of noisome splatters on her legs and chest. Her tail and mane were tangled and greasy, as dirty as the rest of the beast. But to Amity it made little difference if the horse were not a thoroughbred. She could not abide turning away from such a disgraceful sight.

"G'way with you!" the red faced man bellowed, staring belligerently at the red-haired miss. "Tis no affair of yourn."

"Of course it is," Amity said, drawing herself up with great dignity. "It is every citizen's concern to right the wrongs of injustice. England is not a country where one can pass by while a poor dumb beast is whipped. And a female at that. For shame."

"Bloody 'ell!" The carter threw down his reins and clambered out of the cart to stand towering over the impassioned young lady. "And gie me my whip, you interfering little..."

"Silence, you knave! Would you add blasphemy to your already long list of offences." Although Amity felt some slight danger from the outraged man, the press of a cold nose against her skirts alerted her to the presence of reinforcements and her courage was bolstered. "Belay that noise or I shall set my dog upon you."

Muffin, exhausted from his brisk walk, chose that particular moment to lie down. The carter guffawed, snatching his cap off to slap it with great force against his leg. This action caused a cloud of nauseous odor to escape from his filthy clothing and Amity stepped back in disgust.

"Gawd love ya, miss," the man roared in amusement. His mouth lolled open presenting a wide, gap-toothed grin. "You must be a bleedin' Bedlamite."

Amity recovered and glared up at the man. She raised the whip, poking the tip against the man's chest to emphasize her words. "Have you no conscience, man? The animal is blown. Beating her will gain you nothing but a dead horse."

"Give over, miss." The man flinched away from the point of the whip. "The 'orse is mine to deal with."

"You shall not beat her again, sirrah!"

Amity could feel Betta pulling on the sleeve of her pelisse but her compassion for the poor animal forced her to ignore her abigail. The loathsome carter glared at her and leaned forward until his face was close to her own. When he spoke the stench of his breath made her eyes water.

"Iffen I choose to beat 'er, I will. The 'orse is mine."