Misfit Maid. Elizabeth Bailey

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СКАЧАТЬ irritable inquiry as to why the butler had not then shown her the door, the valet had replied haughtily, ‘The young female having been allowed in, my lord, and taking up a peculiarly intransigent attitude, expressing herself in such terms as no real lady—’ He had caught himself up, and coughed delicately. ‘Suffice it, my lord, that even Mr Lowick did not feel he could force her to leave without laying violent hands upon her. Which, my lord, he was loath to do, in the remote contingency that her claim of identity might be proven.’

      Which it was not, Delagarde remembered suddenly. He frowned at the girl. ‘How can I be certain that you are indeed Lady Mary Hope?’

      ‘Who else should I be?’ she countered.

      ‘How the devil should I know?’ retorted Delagarde, pardonably annoyed. ‘You might be anyone. An adventuress…a schemer, imposter—I have no idea.’

      ‘Humdudgeon!’ snorted his visitor in a most unladylike way. ‘As a member of the peerage, you know well enough who is who. I am obviously related to the Earl of Shurland, if I am a Hope.’

      ‘If you are,’ Delagarde retorted, stressing the ‘if’. ‘And if you are Lady Mary, I suppose you to have been fathered by Shurland—or his predecessor. But I have yet to see proof of your identity.’

      ‘Oh, if that is all,’ came the airy response, ‘I can furnish you with proofs enough very easily.’

      ‘Well, where are they?’

      ‘I can readily bring them—after we have settled everything.’

      Was that a hint of challenge in her eye? Delagarde made an effort to shake off his creeping lethargy and take control of this absurd situation. Was he to be intimidated by an impertinent chit? He did not think so.

      ‘My good girl, there is nothing to settle,’ he told her in his loftiest tone. ‘If this is some sort of trickery, you have mistaken your man. Whether you are, or are not, Lady Mary Hope, I have not the remotest intention—’

      ‘Pray do not let us waste any more time on that matter,’ she interrupted impatiently, not in the least crushed. ‘You had as well accept my identity without further ado. However, I dare say it will be wisest for you to address me as Maidie—for everyone who knows me well uses my pet name—which will help to make people believe us to be very well acquainted.’

      ‘I have no desire to make anyone believe it,’ objected Delagarde, refusing to avail himself of this permission. ‘And I am far from accepting your identity.’

      ‘I can’t think why. You must see very well that I am indeed Lady Mary.’

      ‘I see nothing of the kind,’ declared Delagarde, losing what little patience he had. ‘All I see is a strange young female, who comes to my house—at, I may add, the most unseasonable hour—’

      ‘It is past ten o’clock!’

      ‘—unseasonable hour, I say, for visiting. And while we are on the subject, it may interest you to know that any female with the smallest pretension to gentility would not dream of visiting a gentleman—’

      ‘She would if she had my circumstances.’

      ‘—in his own house, which, if you were indeed Lady Mary Hope, you would be quite aware is the height of impropriety.’

      ‘I am aware of it,’ Maidie said, ‘although I have never been able to understand why.’

      ‘It is obvious why,’ Delagarde snapped. ‘Quite apart from the damage to your reputation, you are alone and unprotected.’

      ‘Do you mean to assault me?’

      ‘Of course I don’t mean to assault you!’

      ‘Then why are we discussing it?’

      ‘Oh, good God!’

      Unable to decide which of several infuriated utterances to make first, Delagarde paced about for a moment or two until he remembered what he had begun to say. He turned on the girl.

      ‘All this is quite beside the point. What I have been trying to impress upon you is that it is utterly unheard of for a complete stranger to walk unannounced into a gentleman’s residence and throw a ridiculous demand at his head.’

      Maidie raised her brows. ‘What is ridiculous about it?’

      Delagarde threw up his hands. ‘If you can’t see that, then you are the one who is mad—which I am beginning to suspect is indeed the case. Arrange for your debut, indeed! Even if I had any idea of doing so—which I emphatically do not—it would be quite impossible.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because I am not equipped to do so. What were you thinking of? That I should launch you from this house?’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Why not!’ Delagarde felt an almost irresistible urge to clutch at his hair. ‘You don’t mean to say you really were thinking of such a thing? Good God, girl, I am a bachelor! You need a respectable female to sponsor you—a chaperon.’

      Maidie sank back in her chair. ‘Is that all that is troubling you? You need have—’

      ‘No, it is not all!’

      ‘—no further concern,’ she said calmly, ignoring his interruption. ‘I have thought of all that. I have brought my own duenna. She is your cousin, so there can be no impropriety in us both staying in your house.’

      ‘Staying in my—!’ For a moment or two, Delagarde regarded her speechlessly. Then he sank into the chair on the other side of the fireplace and dropped his head in his hands.

      Maidie watched him with interest. He was not at all what she had expected. She had anticipated that there might be a trifle of explanation required, but not to have her identity called in question. Why Lord Delagarde should make such a piece of work about a simple matter she failed to comprehend.

      He did not look obtuse. Quite the contrary. One might not call him handsome, but it was a strong countenance—if a trifle jaded at present; she could not think he had always such a pallor—with a firm line to the jaw, a straight nose and a broad brow from which dark locks waved back into a long crop. Whether the dishevelled look of this style was deliberate, or due to the gentleman’s current state, Maidie could not say. He certainly had the air of a man of fashion. She knew little of such things, it was true, but even to the untutored eye, there was an unmistakable elegance to the cut of the cream breeches and the blue coat.

      From the point of view of appearances, he would certainly do, and his establishment was eminently suited to her purpose. A house in the best part of town, with a deliberate decor influencing even this small room, the simplicity of which impressed her. Nothing elaborate. Warm-shaded wallpaper, its apricot picked out in the faint stripe of the cushioned seats. Maidie approved the slim lines of the furniture, the plain brown carpet, and the sparse decoration to the mouldings about the fireplace.

      She was less satisfied to have discovered Lord Delagarde to be a creature of uncertain temperament. It did not augur well for her plans. But it was possible that he was not always so. Had her timing, perhaps, been unfortunate? He had been abed on her arrival, and had kept her waiting СКАЧАТЬ