Amanda Scott Read Online Free

past.
    “We have strayed somewhat from the subject,” said Lady Cadogan severely, bending a basilisk eye upon Meriel that effectively startled her from her musing. “Your brother’s whereabouts need not concern us at the moment, but I can certainly assure you that he would never countenance your traveling into France. To go to Rouen is bad enough, when you might employ another to attend to the matter, but to go on to Paris—”
    “Indeed, ma’am, I must.”
    “Poppycock. Your sister is perfectly safe. Indeed, her most recent letter indicates that she is misbehaving quite as much as ever she did. Parties and balls, with her poor husband locked away in the Bastille or wherever that dreadful Bonaparte is keeping him.”
    Meriel smiled. “I doubt the Bastille, ma’am, but you are correct in saying that Nest sounds undistressed. She is such a shatterbrain, you know, thinking of little beyond her own pleasure. Still, she loves her husband, so I fear she is merely putting a good face on the matter. I must see for myself.”
    “Aye, you were that way from a child,” said Lady Cadogan, grimacing. “You never learn.”
    “Do you think to convince me you will not manage without me in London, ma’am? I promise you, I shall not believe such a faradiddle. You will enjoy yourself hugely, and I am persuaded that Eliza at least could not be in better hands then yours.”
    Lady Cadogan preened herself. “That is true,” she said. “No one else could fire the girl off as well as I shall.”
    “But I do not wish to be fired off,” said Eliza, pouting.
    “I for one should like it above all things,” put in Gwenyth. “You are a fool, Eliza, to wish to be stuck with that Bugg person.”
    “His name is Gwilym,” said Eliza angrily, “and you are not to call him by that dreadful nickname again, Gwenyth, or I shall … I shall box your ears until they ring a full carillon, do you hear me?”
    “Ydw,” said the unrepentant Gwenyth.
    “Speak English,” pleaded Lady Cadogan.
    Gwenyth grinned at her. “Very well, but it seems a pity to say three words when one will do.” She turned to Eliza. “I heard you, Eliza, perfectly. Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”
    “Meri,” begged Eliza, “only let me have five minutes alone with her.”
    “No, my dear. A lady does not indulge in physical violence.”
    “Oh, what a plumper. Why, you kicked Joss and pushed him into the river the week before he left only because he refused to let you ride his black Thunder. And you nearly scratched Nest’s eyes out the time she told Papa you had been climbing the mountain alone again.”
    “That was different,” said Meriel with grave dignity. “I do not like tale-bearers.”
    “You didn’t like what Joss did when he hauled himself out of the river, either,” said Gwenyth with a chuckle. “I was only seven then, but I remember.”
    “I don’t,” said Davy. “What did he do?”
    “He put her straight across his knee and thrashed her soundly, and when she complained to Papa, he said it was no more than she deserved and that she was lucky he didn’t repeat Joss’s lesson.”
    Meriel chuckled at the memory. “I don’t know whether I was angrier at the thrashing or the fact that Joss was still soaking wet when he caught me,” she said. “I was as soggy as he was when he was done, and Papa scolded me dreadfully for coming into his presence in such a bedraggled condition.”
    The others laughed with her then, and the conversation turned safely to the subject of the next day’s journey and the three days they would spend in Barmouth before the coastal packet sailed. As Meriel went upstairs later that evening, she felt a tightening in her throat. This would be the first time she had left Merionethshire since her single unsuccessful Season in London seven years before, and her feelings were mixed. There was sadness at the leaving, but underlying it was an undeniable sense of excitement. Adventure lay ahead. For once,