“A very good thing, Miss Thea,” said Dr Horne. “And so delightful you are staying in town longer. Why, things are just starting to get lively in Bath. We would miss your company.” He stared meaningfully at her and Thea almost winked; and although she didn’t, her mouth twitched once more as she smiled at him and murmured, “And the company of my aunt, of course, Dr Horne.”
“Most assuredly, Miss Thea. Most assuredly.”
“Well, Thea, what did I tell you?” her aunt demanded, tapping the letter she’d received once the doctor had been farewelled. “After all these years Mr Granville has seen the error of his ways. He begs my forgiveness and evinces the strong hope that I will receive him with at least a touch of kindness after our last disastrous parting.”
Thea frowned. Surely her aunt was mistaken. “Mr Granville?” Puzzled, she clarified, “So he signed his name?”
“His initials, SG, in case the letter fell into the wrong hands, no doubt.” Aunt Minerva sighed and several of her chins wobbled. Thea meanwhile felt merely foolish for having jumped to the wrong conclusion. So Dr Horne really had been delivering a letter on behalf of Aunt Minerva’s former swain, though really, the idea of the urbane Mr Granville having designs on her aunt stretched the bounds of credulity.
Unless of course there was some other motivation behind Mr Granville’s request. Perhaps he was a confidence trickster who wanted to ultimately lay his hands on her aunt’s fortune, just as he
’d wanted to do all those years before.
She checked herself. Only a foolish girl would jump to two wrong conclusions in the space of five minutes. Thea must do what she did best: simply observe quietly what was going on around her…and try to come up with better-informed conclusions.
She glanced up when her aunt made some strange noise and with a start, observed that her benefactress was staring into space, sucking on her teeth.
“Aunt?” she asked, though her concern brought Aunt Minerva’s head round like a spinning top with the usual rebuke spilling from her lips.
“Why look at you, lazy girl. You’re sitting in idleness when I’ve a whole basket that needs sorting. Who do you think pays a fortune to feed and clothe you?”
Sighing, Thea rose to her feet. “I’m suddenly very tired, Aunt Minerva. I think I shall have an afternoon rest.”
“You will not.” Her aunt glared at her. “Not until you’ve finished re-rolling the wool in that whole basket like I asked you this morning. Goodness me, girl. It is I who is off to rest.”
Chapter 10
BEFORE before either had a chance to carry the discussion further—although Aunt Minerva was always assured the last word—a commotion in the corridor just outside Aunt Minerva’s apartments was followed by the sound of girlish laughter and masculine jollity.
“Aunt Minerva, what a pleasure to see you!” Antoinette gushed as she swept across the Aubusson carpet of Aunt Minerva’s private sitting room to deliver a smacking kiss on her relative’s cheek.
Bertram followed suit, the pair of siblings taking a seat uninvited and gazing at Aunt Minerva with a degree of pleasure Thea considered most extraordinary. Antoinette looked flushed and lovely, as usual. Thea felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. Her cousin was only a year older, yet she was now a countess and mother of the future Earl of Quamby. Thea didn’t care that Antoinette was a countess but she cared greatly that she was the mother of an infant who seemed to interfere little in his mother’s quest for pleasure.
Thea longed to be a mother but the possibility seemed increasingly remote. A husband with only a moderate annuity would not be in a position to afford a penniless wife, while a gentleman with more would be in the market for an heiresses or at least a beauty who’d submit to his carnal desires with sufficient enthusiasm to compensate for her pecuniary deficiencies. And Thea knew now she could never do that.
“Your private apartments are so far from ours and we were just remarking that we’d not seen you since our outing to the Assembly Rooms and that you’d soon be charging us with neglect, so here we are.” Antoinette smiled beatifically at her aunt as she twirled a golden ringlet around her forefinger.
“I think a good deal of time might have passed before that was likely to happen,” Aunt Minerva remarked drily.
“And we also have a proposition for you, Aunt.” Bertram grinned and slanted a meaningful look at Thea. He winked. “We thought we’d take you on a grand outing tomorrow, Aunt Minerva.” He paused, adding more as an afterthought. “And Thea, if she wants to come.”
“And why do you suppose I have either the time or inclination to go on a grand outing?” Aunt Minerva demanded. “Moreover, Thea is fully engaged with a list of duties I need carried out in order to clear my head.”
Antoinette leaned forward. “Oh, but Aunt, your presence has been requested for a very worthy philanthropic duty, and I’ve been charged by Lady Umbrage to pass the message on to you.”
Aunt Minerva’s squirrel’s tail bobbed beneath her lace cap as she twisted her head to pierce her niece with a look of astonishment that quickly turned to excitement. “Lady Umbrage has requested my presence?” Her eyes were suddenly bright. “I’m sure I’d not let Lady Umbrage down if I could help it. What does she wish of me?”
“The opening ceremony at the new Foundling Hospital is tomorrow.” Antoinette smoothed her sprigged muslin skirts over her knees and offered her sweetest smile. “Knowing how much you love babies, Aunt Minerva, and owing to the fact that Lady Umbrage’s sister is unable to attend due to a chest ailment, her ladyship hoped you’d graciously agree to do the honours with her.”
“Oh, my! And what an honour it is, indeed.” Aunt Minerva hesitated. “What, exactly, am I required to do?”
“Well, there are five babies whom the governors have chosen to be specially honoured and who shall have bestowed upon them the name of a noble benefactor.”
Aunt Minerva’s hands which had been cupping her shining face dropped suddenly to her lap as her excitement turned to horror. Her nostrils twitched. “What? Give my name to some dirty, puling little bastard dropped in the basket at the gates by the Foundling Hospital?”
Antoinette and her brother exchanged glances, almost as if they’d expected something along these lines. Stoically, Antoinette did not allow her smile to falter.
Bertram cleared his throat. “Proceedings won’t take long and will be followed by a lavish breakfast at Lady Umbrage’s estate. I believe a rare and most sumptuous pudding will be served for those with a sweet tooth.”