Page 74 of The Ladies Least Likely
CHAPTER NINE
A maranthe emerged from a side garden when Mal pulled up before the medieval guild hall that had been transformed into the Benevolence Hospital.
She looked grand in the expensive silk; he’d been right that the fabric would flatter her dark coloring.
As he’d never had occasion to choose a lady’s attire before, it pleased him that his instincts had been correct about this one.
To avert a repeat of the thump-over-the-head, thought-clearing reaction he’d had to her earlier, he tried to look about him at the environs of the place.
The grounds and buildings of the Benevolence Hospital appeared well-supplied and well-kept, in good repair.
It would take money to maintain such an enterprise, and he wondered who the donors were.
Miss Illingworth had said little about it other than that it was a charity with some connection to the girls’ school she had attended, and he wondered now if he ought to be asking more questions.
Apparently he had not been asking close enough questions about a great many things.
As he handed her up into the vehicle, Mal studied her face closely, looking for signs of veniality, slyness, or duplicity.
But she looked the same as before: well-shaped lips of a natural plum color, high cheekbones, skin smooth and luscious as creamed tea.
She didn’t look like a liar, a forger, or a thief.
He wondered how on earth he was supposed to bring up the subject. But there were any number of things he needed to know about Amaranthe Illingworth.
“You had some success, then?” He leapt easily into the carriage beside her. “You look pleased.”
She scooted to the side when his leg brushed hers, and he took satisfaction in the color that appeared in her cheeks. But her voice was composed as she withdrew a small slip of paper from her reticule.
“The matron supplied me with a list of names. They’ll be sent over tomorrow at seven with their things. I’ve everyone but a butler, a housekeeper, and perhaps you might wish a second footman, to help Ralph.”
“We can’t keep your man?” Mal said without thinking. When she turned surprised eyes on him, he tried not to stare.
First he had noticed the unusual violet ring around the iris of her eyes, and now he saw that the brown was in fact shot with rays of gold. Miss Amaranthe Illingworth was a deep treasure whose beauties revealed themselves subtly, quietly, with each new observation.
“No, you cannot have Davey. My servants will return home with me. They asked a day or two to help settle in your new staff, and I can’t deny that they all love being inside a ducal mansion.
They’ve already raided the duchess’s chambers, and I don’t doubt that between them they’ve combed every room in the house.
But we’ll all go home in short order, and you’ll be free of us. ”
“The children will be sorry.” Mal would be sorry, too. He wondered what excuses he could contrive to call on Miss Illingworth once she had removed herself from Hunsdon House back to her own tidy house in George Court.
He was thinking of calling on her. He was already looking for ways to keep her involved in his life. That came as something as a surprise.
And his reasons, if he were being entirely honest with himself, weren’t simply to ensure that he wasn’t exposing his half-siblings to an inimical influence or a criminal mastermind.
“I need a bracing drink before we visit any hiring agencies. Do you mind?”
When she didn’t, Mal navigated them back to the Strand to Tom’s Coffee House, which was one of the few premises in town that admitted women.
He watched Amaranthe’s face suffuse with pleasure at the rich smells that met them at the door, and her gaze followed the busy movement of patrons as they swapped news and gossip.
Other gazes followed them, too, or more precisely Amaranthe as she moved to a space at one of the high tables and lay her reticule upon it.
There was no denying that in Sybil’s things, she looked a duchess in truth.
She possessed an air of self-command and a quick, droll wit that did not suffer fools.
“Tea? Coffee? Chocolate?” Mal winked. “They’ve stronger drinks as well, if you’d like a nip of wine.”
“Wine, at this hour.” That enchanting twitch to her lips. “Tea, please.”
“I would have taken you for a chocolate drinker.”
“Indeed I adore it, but only on very special occasions. We do not often have tea.”
“You served it yesterday to the children.”
“Yes, because they were guests. The tax makes it dear for our household.”
The server drew the liquid tea from its cask and heated it, and Amaranthe closed her eyes in bliss as she sipped. Mal tried not to stare like a fool. Or try to imagine other ways he might bring that look to her face.
“Grey, I thought I spotted you down the street. And with a companion of the female persuasion. I simply had to come see for myself.”
“Vierling.” Mal greeted his friend, though Viktor was not as welcome a sight as usual.
He was in uniform, and the scarlet coat with its gold sash made his chest look impressively broad, while the tall black jack boots and golden breeches showed the shape of his muscular legs.
He carried his red and gold headdress under one arm and stood easily before Amaranthe, looking down at her with a smile.
“You look like you ought to be to horse,” Mal added. “Drill today?”
“We’re seeing off the next shipment of troops to the American colonies. Surprised you aren’t with them, old boy. When I didn’t see the tip of your nose all last night, I thought you’d made good on your promise to enlist.”
“I had other matters to preoccupy me,” Mal answered.
“I see that.” Viktor’s grin widened as he studied Amaranthe.
“Miss Illingworth,” Mal said shortly. “Viktor Vierling, the wastrel son of an obscure German count, presently of the 2d Horse Grenadier Guards, where he has made no good account of himself. Viktor, this is Miss Amaranthe Illingworth, sister to the tutor who looks after Hugh and Ned.”
Viktor bowed over the hand Amaranthe extended. Mal was glad she was wearing the kid glove and Viktor didn’t get to touch her skin. “I would have been a much better student if my tutors had a sister so pretty,” Viktor said.
“Yes, I imagine you would have suddenly been inspired to pay keen attention to your Latin conjugations and historical studies,” Amaranthe said with cool calm.
“Whereas my brother relies on the authority of his knowledge to make his students behave. As Cicero says, si hortum et bibliotheca habes, nihil deerit .”
Mal smothered a laugh as Viktor mastered his look of dismay. He had no doubt Amaranthe intended to flourish her Latin as a weapon. Viktor recovered his customary aplomb. “I’ll agree with anything Cicero spouts if you support it, Miss Illingworth.”
Amaranthe cast an exasperated look at Mal, who suddenly felt buoyant. So she was not the type of woman to go soft over a man in uniform. Mal was glad to see it. He wasn’t certain the uniform would suit him, come to that, and the headgear bordered on the ridiculous.
“So Cicero is what intelligent young ladies use to drive away unwanted gentlemen,” Mal said after Viktor moved away to hail another friend. “I think you meant it. ‘He who possesses a garden and a library lacks nothing.’”
Her pleased, slightly abashed smile warmed him to a far greater extent than his coffee. “I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate in the moment,” she said. “But it’s my favorite of his sayings, nevertheless.”
“’Faithfulness and truth are the most sacred excellences and endowments of the human mind,’” Mal quoted. “One of my favorites.”
She turned her face away. “Quite.”
Now why had he taunted her thus? It was no way to find answers. “You like tea,” he said stupidly, trying to draw her attention back to himself.
“Brought to England by Catherine de Braganza, the wife of King Charles II, so they say,” she murmured, still not meeting his eyes.
“Who was Portuguese,” Mal said. “As, I believe you mentioned, was your mother’s family?”
“We always hoped to travel there,” Amaranthe answered.
“My mother taught me a bit of the language, what bits had been handed down to her. I use it now and again with a girl we met, a young woman named Inez. Her father was an Indian sailor and her mother his Portuguese wife, left stranded in England when his employer went bankrupt and the crew was relieved of their duties. Inez is looking after my house while we are gone.”
“You seem inclined to take in people in distress,” Mal noted. “You mentioned you brought your maid from Cornwall with you.”
Her eyes met his, wide with surprise. “Why would you think Inez is in distress? Or Eyde?”
“You leapt in to help my brothers and sister on the basis of no prior acquaintance,” Mal said.
“At the notion of hiring staff, you went immediately to a charitable institution that places orphans into service. And you mentioned you left Cornwall around six years ago, which I am guessing is the age of your maid’s daughter.
Very few employers keep a servant who comes burdened with a child. ”
Her gaze fell to the liquid in her cup, lips pursed as she blew on the warm liquid. “It is not a remarkable inclination,” she observed. “To help people in need.”
“It’s why I chose the law,” Mal blurted. There it was: her eyes on him again, quizzical, interested. He wanted to hold her attention.
“Parliament makes the laws, but it comes to justices and magistrates to find remedies for errors in the application of them. The decisions of judges can have great power for justice. Look at the Somerset ruling and the profound effect it has had. If Parliament cannot bring itself to pass legislation, then it falls to judges to ensure only just laws are upheld.” He faltered as her look grew sharp, interested. “I only mean to say?—”
“You have a real interest in the law after all,” she said quietly. “I misjudged you, Mr. Grey.”