Maggie MacKeever by Sweet Vixen Read Free Book Online Page B

ventured timidly.
    “Then by all means we must hasten to her. She is in a devilish temper as it is.” Giles turned cordially to Clio. “You must be my young cousin. May I say how pleased I am to make your acquaintance, and apologize for this dreadful contretemps?”
    “Pray say no more!” replied Clio, who had been hard put to remain silent while her sister monopolized the attention of yet another personable man. “It does not signify.”
    “Please hurry,” whispered Lucille, twisting her hands. Clio dimpled as Giles offered his arm, and they followed the faded woman down the hallway.  Tess followed, flanked by Evelyn and Nidget, both of whom had apparently constituted themselves her devout admirers. Bringing up the rear of this small cavalcade was Delphine who, though perfectly aware that she should by rights remove herself to the nether regions, had no intention of leaving the disposition of her charges to happenstance. It was glaringly obvious to the abigail that this was an abominably ill-run household.
    Sapphira dominated the drawing-room, seated as she was in her invalid chair with a gold turban on her head and a hideous cashmere shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her daughters and son-in-law grouped subserviently around her, and a glass of negus— sherry and hot water sweetened with lump sugar and flavored with grated nutmeg and lemon juice—in one gnarled hand. Clio took one look at this rather malevolent apparition and gulped audibly. Tess repressed a smile.
    “Come here, girl!” snapped Sapphira. “Let’s have a look at you.” Flushing under the combined scrutiny of so many eyes, Clio obeyed. She appeared quite charming in her flounced white cambric gown and her green sarsenet pelisse, and the white gauze bonnet so lavishly adorned with tea roses and foliage; and she looked so unusually subdued that Drusilla immediately decided that her Wicked Baronet would never award this damsel a second glance, having precious little interest in the infantry.
    “Extravagant and undisciplined!” announced Sapphira, who, though of caustic nature, possessed remarkable acumen. “You have a look of your mother, young woman! I doubt not that if you’re not keenly watched, you too will involve yourself in various scandals and escapades.” Clio’s unhappy face reflected only too accurately her reaction to these words. The dowager duchess chortled and her sharp eyes moved to Tess, who was standing near the doorway, one arm around Evelyn, who was leaning blissfully against her good side, and Nidget at her feet. “Who’s that creature?” she snapped. “Some sort of a companion, I suppose? I can’t see why you had to bring her along.”
    There was perhaps some basis for the duchess’s misapprehension: due to the fact that Clio’s letters were self-centered masterpieces of omissions and poor grammar, Sapphira had no knowledge of the Countess of Lansbury; and Tess, who still wore her old black pelisse, and who had in her encounter with Nidget lost all her hairpins so that her pale curls were as usual in wild disarray, certainly lacked the least appearance of a gentlewoman. There was, however, no excuse at all for Tess’s subsequent behavior, for she merely sketched an awkward little curtsy and made no attempt to set matters right. “My name is Tess,” she said, with a humility that made Delphine wish to box her ears. “I told Clio she would have little need of my company here, but the dear creature would not hear of me remaining behind.” Clio, astounded to hear herself spoken of in such doting terms, bit back a giggle. It was growing obvious that her sister was set off on a lark, and while Clio had never known such a thing to happen before, she thought it would be great fun. “She has been,” added Tess, making it impossible for either her sister or her abigail to render explanations without making her appear demented, “in my care since she was born, you see.”
    Had Sapphira been sufficiently interested