Barbara Metzger by Saved by Scandal

Author:Saved by Scandal
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Whoever said spare the rod and spoil the child was most likely itching to lay a birch to the backside of Lady Harriet Woodrow. Margot was certainly itching to put her in a coach and send her back to Cheshire.

No one had ever denied the duke’s daughter anything. If some poor governess had tried in all the ten and seven years, the chit had gone to her doting papa and wheedled her way to the village fair or wept her way to a new bonnet better suited to a Cyprian than a schoolgirl. The string of governesses gave up. The academy for young ladies she briefly attended surrendered after two months. The proprietress was afraid of losing His Grace’s patronage if they reprimanded the chit for sneaking out after hours, or applying lip rouge or waving to the soldiers at a military parade. The headmistress sent Lady Harriet home, declaring quite correctly, that the school had taught her all they could.

Harriet’s latest companion, hired to take her about London while they were in Town to attend Galen’s wedding, gave her notice as soon as they had left the metropolis. Lady Harriet, excited and eager, was difficult enough. Disappointed, dragged away from the delights of Town, denied her chance to dance at her first adult party, she was downright impossible. Who knew what trouble she’d get up to? The governess left before she got blamed.

The duke had dried Harriet’s tears on the way home with visits to every shop along the way. His Grace could do nothing about his son’s appalling loss of a bride, but he could console his daughter for the curtailed visit. With no companion to restrain her, Harriet had chosen a wardrobe for a wanton, all diaphanous fabrics in bold colors. Her new frocks would have to be delivered to their home, however, where she had no place to wear them, which brought on another bout of weeping. From where he rode alongside the carriage, the duke tut-tutted her misery. Her aunt Mathilda could see to Harriet’s come-out next fall, he promised. In fact, the more he thought about it, and a summer full of tantrums and tears, the duke decided Harriet ought to spend the summer in Bath, getting reacquainted with her aunt and cousin, polishing her social skills on the matrons and retired military gentlemen who gathered there.

What, thought Harriet, molder amongst a bunch of dodderers who spent their days discussing their digestive systems? Worse, being seen with Cousin Harold would quite sink her chances of making a stir when she finally got to London. No, Lady Harriet wished to be in Town, where all the interesting gentlemen were, and she wished to be there now.

As soon as her father left on some foolish errand, likely to do with his fusty old flowers, Harriet followed in a hired chaise with a girl from the posting house to serve as attendant, less for respectability’s sake than because Harriet had no idea how to do up her own hair or iron her own gowns.

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