The Sins of Lady Dacey by Marion Chesney Read Free Book Online

Ware ... very. This will be an opportunity to write and thank him. Did you say you were to reside with me? Did you say I was your aunt?”
    “Yes, on both counts.”
    “Good to the first, bad to the second. I do not like to be known as your aunt. So aging, don't you think? Still, perhaps he will not remember. And you, Mrs. Perryworth? Ah, we are to be friends. Pamela, is it not? And you will both call me Clarissa, and we will have such fun. So, Pamela, what did you think of Ware?”
    “I was unfortunately ill myself, Clarissa. I had no opportunity to study our host.”
    “No matter. Does he plan to come to London?”
    “He said nothing to me of the matter,” said Honoria.
    Lady Dacey relapsed into silence. Honoria started to speak, but Lady Dacey put her finger to her lips. After some time, she said, “I think I might take a trip north myself. If my carriage were to have a mishap at Ware's gates, then he would need to entertain me.”
    Pamela found her voice. “I should point out that we were fortunate in the timing of our visit. Had we arrived a week before, then we should have found the house full of Corinthians and Cyprians, not to mention,” she blushed, “His Grace's mistress.”
    “Oh, Penelope Wilson? Her days are numbered, or so I hear. Yes, I think I shall introduce you, Pamela, to the mantua makers, the milliners, the hairdressers, and whatever you desire. They will furnish you both with fashionable clothes, and you can both work at practicing your social manners while I am away.”
    “But, my lady,” exclaimed Pamela, forgetting the first name request in her distress, “neither of us know London or society or anyone. We shall be quite lost.”
    “Fiddle. It is winter. What would you do were you still in Yorkshire? Read books and sew. You can do the same here. The Season is still a good way off.”
    “We thank you for your generosity,” said Honoria quickly, “and we shall do very well on our own.” She realized it would be pleasant to be shot of this outrageous aunt and get her bearings in the capital without her.
    “Sensible girl. London is sadly flat at the moment. What shall we do this evening to amuse you?” She rose and went to the card rack on the mantlepiece and began to flick through the invitations with her small tapering fingers with their sharp, pointed nails.
    “Ah, here we are. A musicale at Mrs. Henry's. Rather dull, but you will meet a few people. Wear something simple, Honoria, and leave your hair down. Quite charming.”
    Pamela guessed that Lady Dacey wanted to keep her niece looking like a schoolgirl so that her own years would seem less. She privately decided to do something about Honoria's hair and appearance while Lady Dacey was away.
    The butler entered and presented a card. “Mr. Blackstock is called, my lady.”
    Those china blue eyes sparkled wickedly. “Ah, yes, I shall see him, Withers. Ladies, I am sure you would like to go for a walk or something. Withers, tell the second footman, Ben, to be ready to accompany them. Now, if you will excuse me...”
    Honoria and Pamela made their exit just as a thick, coarse man, Mr. Blackstock, was making his entrance.
    “Goodness,” said Honoria, when they were changing into their walking dresses, “how can Aunt bear to let any man see her in that disgraceful gown?”
    “I fear such an aunt will do nothing for your social life or chances of finding a suitable husband,” said Pamela sadly.
    “There is good in everyone,” replied Honoria. “When she returns from her visit to Ware, we must see what we can do about reforming her character.”
    “Now, I would consider that a waste of time.” Pamela swung a cloak about her shoulders. “At least the rain has stopped.”
    The bustle of the London streets almost overwhelmed them. Everyone and everything moved so quickly. People on foot ran along as if pursued by bailiffs. People with carriages drove them at full tilt. The cobbled roads shook under the speed of the hackney