Beyond Rubies (Daughters of Sin 4)

“I ‘ ardly seen ’ im, m’lady since I bin wiv yer an’, o’course, ‘e’s bin wiv Lord Debenham, an’ yer two ain’t seen one anuvver fer an awful long time.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.” Araminta ran her hand over her detested bulge. “When will Mrs. Mobbs tell me my time has come?” she asked, longingly. “Honestly, I can’t bear another day of this. I will simply go quite stark raving mad.” Then she clapped her hands, pleasure wiping away her discontent. “Lord Ludbridge will be back in London in a fortnight after he’s visited his mother up north. Isn’t that wonderful timing, Jane?”

“Fer wot, m’lady?” Jane raised her head from tidying the various items of clothing she’d discarded about the room, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Araminta found the sight of her rough nails nibbled to the quick suddenly irritating.

“Wipe that miserable expression off your face, Jane, and be happy for me for a change. You have to admit, I’ve suffered terribly from the day Hetty eloped with Sir Aubrey, and you don’t see me inflicting my misery on all those around me. You’ll see Jem soon enough. As for me, I make plans to improve my lot and don’t just wait for events to happen. Now, please lay out my jonquil walking dress and pelisse. I think I shall go for a gentle stroll. That may help to ‘bring on’ this detested child.”

As it turned out, within minutes of this declaration Araminta was flying to her closet to choose a Pomona green traveling gown, while thinking of how she might find an excuse for a hasty carriage ride instead of a walk. For word had just arrived from Mrs. Mobbs that her child had been born.

Hurrying into the drawing room, she tried to hide her excitement as her mother and sister looked up from their embroidery.

“Mama, I wish to take the carriage to visit the poor.”

Lady Partington looked startled, while Hetty gasped, “When have you ever visited the poor, Araminta? And why now? It’s nearly dinner.”

“It’s hours until dinner, and I’ve no reason to change since I can barely fit into anything, so I hope Papa understands that.”

“My dear Araminta, you are overset. This is not a moment to go dashing out upon a wild whim.” Her mama rose and came toward her, smiling her characteristic serene smile which set Araminta’s teeth on edge, since it was a sign her mama intended to thwart her.

“Yes, the poor? That’s the wildest whim I ever heard.” Hetty looked like she was struggling not to laugh, which made Araminta angrier and more determined than ever.

She stood her ground, clenching her fists as she tried not to clench her teeth. “There happens to

be a family I have befriended. A very...worthy farmer whose child ran beneath my carriage wheels just before I arrived here. I was...” she struggled for inspiration “...shocked I had nearly killed the child, and have checked several times to ensure his injured leg is mending. And now I am so restless and feel my time so near, I simply have to get out of the house and make this short visit.”

“All the more reason to stay comfortably here.” Her mother was relying on very clearly underhanded soothing methods to try and thwart her. “You are far too advanced to be taking such chances, Araminta. Now do sit down and join Hetty and me. We were having such a lovely coze. You’ve kept far too much to yourself, lately. We miss your company, darling.”

Araminta shook her head stubbornly. “Jane will come with me. I’ll be gone under an hour. I just need a little fresh air and to get out of the house. Surely you can understand that?”

Her mother gave a little sigh. “You are so determined sometimes, Araminta, and I do worry about you. What if Hetty and I accompanied you? Wouldn’t that be nice? Just the three of us going for a gentle carriage ride?”

Araminta glanced, panicked, from her mother’s gently urging smile to Hetty’s more speculative one. “You and Hetty are not dressed for it. I am. See! In my traveling gown, and far too impatient to wait for you to change. I’ve asked John to bring the carriage around. I’ll take Jane with me and...if you are so insistent, I’ll return to collect you in half an hour if you still wish to accompany me, though I’ll probably be wanting to come back by then, anyway.”

Her mother glanced at her youngest daughter. “Would you like to go for a ride, Hetty?”

“Lord, no. I’m far too uncomfortable to want to do anything, and I wonder that you’re so...sprightly, Araminta.”

Araminta turned back toward the corridor. “I’ll be gone such a little while,” she said, ignoring Hetty. “Don’t trouble yourself, Mama. Come along, Jane. I just need to breathe in a little fresh air, and then I’ll be back to my usual easy self.”

“That will be nice!” Hetty called after her. “You’ve been as fluttery as Lady Zena trying to get out of her cage these last weeks.”

Araminta was glad to hear her mother admonishing her sister, but Hetty was right in that Araminta had felt like a canary trying to escape its confines.

Fortunately, there was not too long to wait, she reflected as the footman helped her into the carriage and slammed the door behind Jane. In the confined space, as the vehicle rolled down the gravel drive and picked up pace as it turned onto the road, Araminta could talk without fear of being overheard. Another reason the house had felt so confining, with her mother or Hetty likely to throw open the door with complete lack of regard at any given moment.

“Not long, Jane, until his Lordship has his heir. Oh Lord, I don’t even know if it will be an heir, and I don’t know if I’ll be pleased it’s only a girl, or pleased if it’s a boy and I won’t have to go through all this desperate agony again.”

“Yer babe came inta the world a mite quicker an’ easier than any of me mam’s,” Jane observed.

“I hope you’re not inferring that I’m complaining, Jane.” Araminta regarded her coolly. “Oh, look, is this the place?”

A drystone wall, crumbling in places, surrounded the ramshackle collection of buildings that made up what was apparently the Home Farm. As the carriage slowed to turn into the rutted road, a pack of barking dogs tore across the grass. From the main house, a middle-aged woman in a dirty apron and cap emerged, raising her hand, before trudging wearily across the grass to where the carriage had stopped.

“G’day, m’lady.” She curtsied as Araminta was helped to the ground. “Mighty ’onored, we are, ter ‘ave yer stop by an’ favor us like this. I’m Mrs. Goodwin, Farmer Goodwin’s wife. ‘E’s gone to town to sell some sheep, but if yer’d like to step inta the parlor, I’ll make yer a nice cup o’ tea. Mrs. Mobbs says as ‘ow yer was worrit yer’d hurt our boy fer runnin’ in front of yer carriage. Well, don’t mind ‘bout that. ‘E got a good clip over the ear fer bein’ so careless not but that our ‘earts are gladdened yous shown such goodness. Now, up the stairs, there yer go.”

In the kitchen, where Mrs. Goodwin paused to give the bootboy a jab of her foot in passing for clumsily dropping the leather belt he was polishing, Jane handed over the basket of victuals Araminta had hastily ordered from the scullery for the purpose at Mrs. Mobbs’ behest.

“My, my, ain’t yer the kindest soul,” gushed Mrs. Goodwin. “An’ thinkin’ so much o’ others when yer should be thinkin’ o’ yer an’ yer young ‘un. Must be nearly due now. Any minute, I’d say.”