Minor Indiscretions by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online

nerves."
    "Forgive me, Mama, but I just cannot comprehend the situation. We got along for years. What happened? I thought Aunt Judith left us in good stead, and the nabob was always sending money."
    "Judith left us the house and its property, your dowry, and all those grubby little mouths to feed. My widow's jointure was barely enough to keep us in candles, without the other income. Then people started talking, invitations were withdrawn, checks stopped coming in."
    "What checks were those, Mama? I never knew of any—"
    "Didn't they teach you not to interrupt at that fancy place? When the money stopped coming ages ago, I wrote to the nabob, Sir Bartleby, that is, that we found ourselves in temporary embarrassment. Did he even answer? Hah! That's just like a man, underfoot when you least desire them, and least in sight during times of need. Don't tell Felice—the dear child has been such a help to me—but I think her father is not as wealthy as he pretends to be."
    What a great match he'd be for Mama then, Melody thought. Out loud, she asked, "So what are we to do now, Mama?"
    "Do? Do? How should I know? A lady of my tender sensibilities cannot be expected to deal with financial matters. That's a man's province, child. You'll just have to take it up with Mr. Hadley."
    "Me? I mean I? Deal with your man of business?"
    "Who else? I told you, you're the only one with any money. Heaven knows Hadley won't let
me
touch that dowry of yours. And dear, do try to do something about those hordes of children, and that dreadful Mr. Pike. Can you pour me out some laudanum before you go? Perhaps I'll write Barty again, after my nap. I'll ring when I need my writing case."
     
    Mr. Pike, the constable? Melody shivered as she started to unpack her belongings, and not just because there was no fire laid in the grate and no maid to carry coals. There seemed to be a lot Mama had not told her, like those checks and the "other income" Lady Ashton glossed over, and rumors, and—ugh—Lord Pendleton. Well, her little chat with Mama relieved one of Melody's worries: she wouldn't be sitting around Copley-Whitmore for the rest of her days, moping over any toplofty aristocrat. No, she'd be trying to straighten out this mingle-mangle, if they did not all land in gaol first.
    And then there were the children. Surely, Mama could not have meant that Melody was to take responsibility for the orphans at Dower House; surely, there was some provision for them. Wasn't there?
     
    Mama's nerves recovered well enough for her to do justice to an excellent luncheon, and the meal encouraged Melody to hope the rest of the doom and gloom was as exaggerated as Lady Ashton's fragile sensitivities. The woman was tough as nails when she chose! The menu included poached salmon, mutton with parsleyed potatoes, tomatoes in aspic, and trifle for dessert. At least they still had Mrs. Tolliver to cook. No pureed peepers or chicken foot soup.
    Unfortunately luncheon also included Felice, who would have been even prettier than Melody remembered, with her butter-yellow hair and perfect complexion, if not for the petulant twist to her rosebud mouth and the whine in her high-pitched voice.
    "It's about time you got here to pull your weight," she greeted Melody before Lady Jessamyn drifted into the morning room. "I'm no paid servant to be fetching and carrying for your mother, you know. Why should I be concocting tisanes and matching threads, while you are having it soft in some uppity school?"
    Melody's training at that same uppity school kept her from inquiring just what Felice was doing there at all. Miss Bartleby had been Aunt Judith's ward, and for as long as Melody could remember she had been bragging about going off to live with her father in India. If she was not going to join the nabob, why wasn't the ungrateful witch seeking a husband, a position or, by Jupiter, a broom? Mama seemed to enjoy her company, however, and the two must have memorized the fashion journals and