The Ruby Heart: A classic Regency love story by Janet Louise Roberts & Rebecca Danton

Author:Janet Louise Roberts & Rebecca Danton [Roberts, Janet Louise]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2021-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

With practice, Lesley was learning to keep her temper, to turn away nasty remarks with a smile and a change of subject. It was not easy for the girl, her temper had often had free rein; she was known in London for her wit, and had prided herself on her quick answers.

To guard her tongue, to ignore malicious stabs at herself and her sister, at Burke or any others, to be sweet-tempered on the surface when seething underneath, all went hard for her, and many a night she lay awake for two or three hours until she was finally calm enough to sleep. She had no outlet for her temper, except to stamp about her own rooms and curse under her breath until she felt easier.

It seemed to work. Aunt Felicia and Denise were peevish with her and each other. Lesley tried to remain out of their paths as much as possible. Viola often strolled with Reverend Creswick, or paid calls with him in the parish.

One day the drawing rooms of Penhallow were shut off from the remainder of the house. The chimney sweep and his young assistant had come to clean the chimneys, it being summer. The chimneys always accumulated a heavy dust during the winters, as the fires had to burn almost continually throughout the wet, cold months.

Lesley was crossing the hall headed for the kitchens, when she heard the raised voice of the boy.

“Don’t put a fire under me, sir, don’t! Me legs hurts, I’m climbing fast as I can!”

The plaintive, hoarse voice caught her attention. She hesitated, then went to the closed door and cautiously opened it a couple of inches. A cloud of dust met her, and she repressed a sneeze with her finger under her nose.

Mr Porter, the sweep, wearing his long black frock coat and holding his broom, was threatening the tall, thin lad. The boy backed away from him fearfully as Mr Porter held a lighted thin bit of broom to his larger one, and went at the boy.

“Now, up the chimbleys! And be quick about it! You’re too slow, lazing about. I don’t know why I keep such a poor apprentice!”

The boy skipped to the chimneys, keeping an apprehensively rolling eye on his tormentor. “Don’t hit me with it — please, master,” he whined. “Please — don’t set fire to me pants, I gets so burned about —”

Lesley flung open the doors, and stalked inside. “What are you doing?” she demanded furiously. Both turned to see her, amazed at the lady of the house suddenly appearing.

Mr Porter was silent, his mouth agape, his smutty face turning purple. The boy was more quick, he dashed over to her, half-hiding behind her, whining.

“Don’t let him fire me up the chimney, missus! I hurts so! Me legs aches from the burns yesterday! If he but gives me time, I can get up the chimney all right! Please, missus!” He did not touch her white skirts, already gathering a grime from the dust raised in the large room.

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