The Wicked Godmother by M. C. Beaton

Author:M. C. Beaton [Beaton, M. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General
ISBN: 9781472104380
Google: NPiebDacl3QC
Amazon: B00CMAYTZ8
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 2013-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Seven

Do you know, Carter, that I can actually write my name in the dust on the table?

Faith, Mum, that’s more than I can do. Sure, there’s nothing like education, after all.

—Punch

Rainbird descended to the servants’ hall the next day with the news that Lizzie was to be taught her letters by Miss Metcalf. Miss Metcalf intended to begin on the morrow by giving Lizzie half an hour of her time at ten-thirty in the morning.

“Reckon she deserves it,” said Alice in her slow way. “I ain’t much good when it comes to education, not me.”

“Me neither,” said Dave. “Why Liz?”

“ ‘Cos she’s a brave girl, that’s why,” said Jenny, shooting a venomous look at Joseph. “See here, Lizzie, when we get that pub we’re set on, you can keep the books and sit there like a lady.”

“I could hae taught her,” growled Angus MacGregor, the cook.

“Well, she probably wouldn’t have larned much o’ you,” said Joseph. “You’d hehve shouted at her and hit her with the roasting spit if she hedn’t hehve done what you said.”

“We Scots are no’ like you Sassenachs,” said the cook. “There’s hardly a bairn in the length and breadth of the country that doesn’t know his letters.”

“Don’t be getting above yourself, Lizzie,” said Mrs. Middleton.

“And pass on to us what she teaches you,” said Alice. “We could have a school down here in the winter.”

Education fever set in, and Rainbird promised to buy some secondhand primers for all of them.

Only Joseph sat a little apart, smarting both physically and mentally. He had had a hiding from Rainbird the evening before, but it was Lizzie’s new attitude towards him that hurt the most.

Joseph had not realised how much he had come to take the little scullery maid’s devotion for granted. Lizzie now barely looked at him.

Abovestairs, Harriet was breakfasting with Sarah and Annabelle, giving them a carefully edited version of the previous night’s happenings. Caution prompted her not to say she had entertained the marquess. Although she was sure dear Sarah would understand, the girl might be upset nonetheless at missing a chance of spending further time in his company.

If only there were two Lord Veres, thought Harriet.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Lord Vere called and chatted to Sarah and Annabelle for quite half an hour. Then they went out to the opera, where he had secured them a box. There was no sign of the Marquess of Huntingdon.

Harriet took her charges during the following week to balls and routs and parties. The Season was rushing upon them; the pace becoming hectic. The marquess did not put in an appearance at any of the events. Sarah began to show signs of turning petulant and kept asking Harriet sweetly if she had said something to offend the handsome lord.

Harriet was just beginning to wonder whether to admit to Sarah that she had in fact been very rude indeed to Lord Huntingdon when Lord Vere brought him back into their lives.

He said the marquess had proposed a carriage ride.

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