Madcap Miss by Joan Smith

Author:Joan Smith [Smith, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1990-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Lady Healy rose after her nap and found Grace in the saloon, where she had gone to practice the pianoforte. After she had played a few selections for Grandma, the elderly lady said, “I have a very nice instrument in Scotland. How I should love to hear you play it for me, Augusta. You must do so when you visit me. I’ll speak to your papa about your visit.”

Grace nodded, believing this event was far in the future. She learned the startling truth as soon as Whewett joined them after completing his rounds. “Augusta and I have been chatting about her visiting me,” Lady Healy began. “She is eager to come now that she and I go on so well together, Alfred. I have a notion why you hesitated before. You thought I’d frighten her, but it is no such a thing. We rub along fine. She has promised to play for me when she comes.”

“Perhaps next year,” Whewett said, stalling her. Grandma was old and infirm; next year might not come for her.

As if reading his mind, Grandma said, “Next year might be too late. I want her to come now.” Her arrogant face wore its commanding aspect, black eyes flashing.

Grace and Whewett exchanged a wary look. “You will be fagged after your trip,” he said. “Best to let you get home and recuperate first.”

“I would appreciate her company for the trip. And I do not get so knocked up during travel as you think. My carriage is well sprung. I take it slow, with plenty of stops to rest.”

“Gussie is not ready to leave from here,” was his next effort. ‘‘She has only a few clothes with her, and Invers is not available at the moment, either.”

“Invers can join us later. Clothing will be no problem. We shall get her new ones. Her holiday is the perfect time for it, with no lessons to worry about.”

“I had not thought to see her go off at this time,” was Whewett’s last, desperate objection.

“Well, start thinking about it. I want her to come. I insist,” the old dame decreed. In her mind it was settled.

Whewett needed a breathing space to sort out the mess and entered into a discussion of Lady Healy’s estate. A little later she suggested he change for dinner, and when he came down, he accompanied the ladies, one on each arm, to the table.

“I’m glad to see you ain’t limping,” Lady Healy congratulated Augusta. “The young recover quickly. I was tossed from a wild nag when I was fourteen. They thought I had broken my collarbone, but I went to dinner and danced for three hours that evening. Perhaps I was a little older than fourteen. Lord, I’d give my right arm to be young again—be glad to be rid of it. The elbow aches like a bad tooth.”

“Pretty young to be setting up as a flirt at fifteen,” Whewett quizzed her.

“Young? Why I had my first offer of marriage at fifteen, and half a dozen flirts before that.

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