The Traitor's Wife: A Novel by Allison Pataki Read Free Book Online Page A

Shippen turned upon Clara,and she froze near the threshold of the dining room. Silence filled the room. The only noise was a pop from the hearth, where a log collapsed. When the judge did not speak first, Doctor William addressed Clara.
    “Well? Are those potatoes for us, then?” he asked, a good-natured smile lighting his ruddy features.
    “Who is this? Is this her?” Betsy turned to her sister, speaking about the unknown face.
    “Oh,” Peggy piped up. “Everybody, this is the new maid, Clara.”
    “You’re the girl that Mrs. Quigley sent for?” Judge Shippen asked.
    “Indeed, sir, Excellency, Judge,” Clara answered.
    “Any one of those three titles shall do, but not all three at once.” The judge laughed.
    “Nice to meet you, Clara,” Doctor William answered. “Now bring those potatoes here. I happen to be starving.”
    “Yes, sir.” Clara obeyed, depositing the potatoes in front of Doctor William.
    “Clara helped me dress for dinner.” Peggy sipped her wine, turning to her sister.
    Betsy’s spoon clamored to her plate. “She did? But you promised you would . . .” Seeing her younger sister’s smirk, Betsy did not finish, but crossed her arms in front of her body.
    “Calm yourself, Betsy. I had her fashion my hair for Lord Rawdon’s soiree tonight. You hardly needed help managing a hairdo like the one you’re modeling.”
    At this second insult, Betsy’s pout threatened to turn to genuine tears. “Well, why did she not help me?” Betsy turned from her sister to her father. “Papa, you told Peggy that we were to share the new girl, but Peggy’s kept her all to herself.”
    “But Papa, Betsy doesn’t need a maid, she already has a fiancé.I don’t see why she needs help getting ready for parties when all she does is sit in the corner and sulk that Neddy wasn’t invited.”
    “Girls, if you are going to quarrel, there shall be no new maid at all.” Mrs. Shippen’s features were pinched, and Clara noticed that she barely nibbled on her food. For her part, Clara wished to finish serving the potatoes and disappear from this room.
    “Mama, I am not quarreling. I just don’t think it’s fair that Peggy always gets—”
    “Enough, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Shippen snapped at her elder daughter, rubbing her temples in a slow, rhythmic gesture. “I have a headache. I cannot bear another row tonight.”
    “You always have a headache,” Peggy muttered to herself, sipping her wine.
    Betsy, having lost the round to her sister, changed tracks. “Fine. Then I’m not going with you to Lord Rawdon’s tonight, Peggy.” Betsy uncrossed her arms and took a forceful stab at the bowl of potatoes offered by Clara. Clara braced herself, struggling to keep the dish steady.
    “I don’t care.” Peggy shrugged her shoulders and leaned to help herself to the same dish.
    “But you can’t go either, then.” Betsy tugged on the bowl of potatoes, so that Clara was pulled back toward the elder sister.
    “Why is that?” Peggy stared down her sister, challenging her.
    “Because you aren’t allowed to go out alone, remember? Mama? Papa? Remember you told Peggy that she comes home too late and spends too much money and she shan’t be allowed out alone anymore?”
    “We did agree to that, Edward.” Mrs. Shippen threw a weary look to her husband, already fatigued by the coming spat.
    “Nonsense!” Peggy cocked her head. “All the girls go out alone. You don’t see Meg Chew or Becky Redman with a chaperone. Papa, don’t listen to this spoilsport.”
    “But not all the girls find themselves the subject of ridicule, Margaret.” Mrs. Shippen turned a mirthless expression on her daughter. “It has already been agreed upon. If your sister will not accompany you, you shall not go.”
    “Ridicule? How have I been made the subject of ridicule?” Peggy’s eyes smoldered as she turned from her sister to her mother.
    “Well, you lost your entire purse at cards the other night, for one thing.” Now Betsy