Misfit Maid. Elizabeth Bailey

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СКАЧАТЬ me he cannot bring you out, because I know very well he is married.’

      Maidie put up her chin. ‘Well, I do tell you so. The plain truth is that Adela cannot abide me, and I cannot abide her.’

      ‘Is Adela his wife?’

      ‘Yes, she is, and we quarrelled.’

      ‘I wonder why I am not surprised.’

      ‘Besides,’ continued Maidie, unheeding, ‘Adela treated me abominably until I came of age. Only then, as if nothing had happened, she began fawning all over me, and determining to bring me out.’

      ‘Then why the devil,’ demanded Delagarde, exasperated, ‘have you come to me?’

      ‘Because,’ stated Maidie in steely tones, ‘I am determined never to marry Eustace Silsoe.’

      Delagarde’s head began to reel again. ‘Who in the world is Eustace Silsoe? Why should you marry him if you don’t want to?’

      ‘He is that hateful woman’s brother. Nothing will do for her but that he should succeed with me, and that is all the reason she has for offering to bring me out.’

      ‘Just one moment,’ begged Delagarde, sitting down again. ‘Are you telling me that you are trying to involve me in this preposterous and impossible scheme you have concocted, when you have a perfectly acceptable alternative, only so that you can escape a marriage you don’t want?’

      ‘Yes,’ Maidie said, as if there was nothing at all out of the way.

      ‘But—’ Words failed him.

      ‘Adela and Eustace think they can trap me, but I am going to spike their guns,’ she went on in a tone of gritty determination. ‘And you are to help me. I have thought it all out. We will say that you are my trustee, and that I cannot marry without your consent.’

      Delagarde rose again. ‘We will say nothing of the kind. The whole enterprise is unnecessary, as well as ridiculous. I will have nothing whatsoever to do with such a masquerade.’

      He sounded so determined that Maidie began to fear, for the first time, that her mission might be in vain. Consternation filled her, showing in her face as she got up again and took a hasty step towards him.

      ‘But you must,’ she uttered desperately. ‘Your mother promised me.’

      ‘My mother, as I have pointed out, is dead.’

      ‘Which is why I have come to you.’

      Delagarde threw up a warning finger. ‘We are going in circles again.’

      Maidie came a step closer, reproach filling the wide-eyed gaze. ‘Lord Delagarde, I never dreamed you would refuse me!’

      ‘Then you must be off your head—as I would be were I to agree to participate in this monstrous scheme,’ he averred, retreating from her.

      ‘But I am depending on you!’

      ‘Well, don’t,’ he advised in a harassed sort of way. ‘You will have to think of something else.’

      ‘It is such a little thing to do for me.’

      ‘Little!’

      ‘And you will be well compensated, I assure you.’

      ‘For living with you? Impossible! I dare say I should count myself fortunate not to end in Bedlam!’

      The door opened, and a glance over his shoulder showed him a welcome interruption. Entering the room was an elderly lady, fashionably attired in a demure version of the season’s new high-waisted gowns, a figured green muslin with half-sleeves overlaid with a light woollen shawl of darker hue. A lace-edged cap like a turban bedecked with ribbons and feathers did not quite conceal her hair, which was dark like Delagarde’s, though streaked through with grey. She held herself well, and Maidie immediately noted a resemblance to the Viscount in her softer features, although she looked to be readier to laugh.

      Delagarde seized upon her gratefully, uttering in despairing accents, ‘Aunt Hes, thank God! Kindly inform this lunatic female that I cannot possibly lend her countenance and become her fraudulent trustee.’

      ‘Gracious, what in the world do you mean?’ demanded this lady in astonished accents, looking from him to Maidie and back again. ‘Who is this? What is she doing here? Is she alone?’

      ‘My own questions exactly,’ asserted Delagarde, ‘and if you can get any more sense out of her than I did, you may call me a dunderhead.’

      Maidie found herself the target of two pairs of eyes, the one popping with questions, the other registering a grim satisfaction. She drew a resolute breath, thrusting down the most unpleasant feelings engendered by Lord Delagarde’s persistent rejection. She refused to be put off. She had come this far. She was not going to be turned away from her purpose now. A sudden thought struck her. If this lady was Delagarde’s aunt, and she was already living in the house, then there must be an end to Delagarde’s scruples.

      ‘But this is excellent!’ she uttered, with characteristic frankness, moving forward to grasp the elder lady’s hand. ‘You are his aunt?’

      ‘Great-aunt,’ amended the other, surprise in her voice.

      ‘And you live here!’ Maidie turned enthusiastically to Delagarde. ‘I don’t understand why you were making such a fuss. What possible objection can there be to my living here in these circumstances?’

      ‘There is every objection. Besides, my aunt does not reside here. She is here only on a short visit.’ He added on a note of sarcasm, ‘Sorry as I am to disappoint you.’

      ‘But you may prolong your visit, may you not?’ asked Maidie eagerly of the other lady. ‘I cannot think that the business will take very long. Indeed, I hope it won’t. I am as eager to remove back to the country as Lord Delagarde is to get rid of me. But I won’t go back before I am settled.’

      ‘You see?’ Delagarde said, crossing the room to take up his post at the mantelpiece again. ‘Mad as a March hare!’ He looked across at Maidie. ‘You are wasting your time. You need not think that my aunt, who is bound to be shocked by your conduct, will support you. She will undoubtedly advise me to send you packing.’

      ‘I can speak for myself, I thank you, Laurie,’ announced the older woman firmly.

      Her attention caught, Maidie’s glance went from Delagarde to his aunt, who was studying her with some interest. She stared back boldly, thinking hard. Delagarde seemed to be adamant, she was making no headway there. But hope was reviving fast. If she could only bring this lady round to her side! She was not, she told herself, a schemer. Not like Adela, not in the true sense of the word. Only what else could she have done? She would have preferred to set up house on her own. It was what she had planned to do, with Worm as chaperon. But that scheme would not do, as she had been brought to realise. She had been obliged to fall back upon convention, and for that she needed help. It had not entered her head that her designated assistant would decline to give that help. Now what was she to do? She made up her mind.

      Addressing herself to Delagarde’s aunt, she said, ‘I have not properly introduced myself. I am Lady Mary Hope, daughter of СКАЧАТЬ