A Banbury Tale Read Online Free

not wash my dirty linen in public, you know.”
    Motley winced, and experienced gratitude that her charge was so self-absorbed that she had not questioned her retiring governess’s knowledge of the rules governing Polite Society. “Where do you learn such unsuitable phrases?” she inquired. “Ladies do not speak frankly, child. Should you utter one of your unquestionably vulgar expressions in the wrong company, you will be thought shockingly forward—if not worse.”
    “It utterly sinks my spirits,” Maddy mourned. “Not only must I attract a gentleman of fortune when I have none of my own, but I must also become a pattern-card of respectability. I find it a quelling prospect. I suspect I may also find it a dead bore.”
    Motley had known the de Villiers family for a very long time, had in fact progressed from being Maddy’s governess to Lady Henrietta’s companion and friend. She nourished for that lady deep affection and gratitude, sentiments that did not extend to Claude. Rather, she considered him the author of the family’s various misfortunes, and took pleasure in opposing him at every turn, at least as much as was in her power. In the present case, she was an unwilling conspirator, her complicity ensured by Lady Henrietta’s fear that Maddy would dwindle into an old maid. Looking at the girl, Motley thought this particular nightmare an absurd one: a vision more pleasing than Maddy would be difficult to find.
    The girl’s dress and pereline were a fashionable squirrel gray, and exactly matched the large expressive eyes that changed shades with her moods. Bronze curls disappeared under the charming bonnet, modestly trimmed, that framed a beautifully structured oval face. Long, tangled lashes and delicately arched brows set off the eyes; a charmingly tilted nose and willful mouth completed the face. The overall impression was not one of docility.
    “You agreed to the scheme,” Motley said gently. “If you have changed your mind and wish to cry off, it must be now. Shall I instruct the coachman to turn back?”
    “No!” Maddy smiled, revealing perfect teeth. “Before we left, Papa made clear our circumstances. It is perfectly clear that all depends on me.” Claude had also made it clear that Maddy’s homecoming, should she fail in her purpose, would be an unpleasant one, but she knew him too well to be unduly distressed by this display of parental callousness. “Dear Motley, you must think very poorly of me. Here we are, halfway to London, and I’ve done nothing but tease you and misbehave. There! I promise I’ll be good.”
    Motley was not one bit deceived by this pretty speech. “I do not think,” she said carefully, “that even your father would insist that you ally yourself with someone whom you had taken in dislike.” Maddy looked skeptical. “My dear child, you are not expected to cast out lures! Merely comport yourself in a ladylike fashion, and enjoy what your aunt offers.”
    Maddy laughed. “How improper of you!” she teased. “Motley, you should tell me it is my duty to marry well—not that I must enjoy myself!”
    Motley ignored this unseemly levity. “I sometimes think,” she snapped, “that a great deal too much emphasis is placed on duty and docility. However, it would not do for you to think so, miss! Above all, try to restrain your tongue. Gentlemen expect ignorance in their wives, not intelligence. They prefer purity and submissiveness to character and excitement. More than anything, I think, they wish to be comfortable.” Motley did not add that the same gentlemen seemed to expect the opposite qualities in their mistresses.
    Maddy’s attention had wandered. Nothing in her experience as a reigning belle had given her reason to consider the defeat of her plans. To be certain, her court had not included any grand gentlemen, but Maddy had a sublime belief in her ability to inspire the beaux of London with similar devotion. She leaned forward to peer out the window at the