Araminta (Regency Belles Series Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

an air of mystery about her. Appearing in public but maintaining our distance should accomplish it. Carriage rides are particularly helpful in achieving that impression.’ She folded her hands into her lap. ‘It has been my experience that nothing raises interest in a person more than ill-informed speculation and gossip.’ She cast an eye at Archibald. ‘You do have a carriage in London?’
    ‘I bought one the day after we disembarked. It’ll be here this afternoon. They’ve just finished painting it.’ He frowned. ‘Though I’m not sure I want ’Minta – I mean Araminta – to be the focus of gossip.’
    A dismissive hand was waved. ‘That is an unnecessary concern. Comment will only be of her antecedents. Nothing scandalous.’ She pinned him with a look. ‘I take it there is nothing scandalous in her past?’
    ‘Certainly not.’ Araminta’s voice rose in volume.
    The frown deepened. ‘Young ladies should always adopt moderate tones. Shrieking is not considered advantageous.’
    Araminta quelled an urgent desire to demonstrate just what she considered an immoderate shriek. Only by forcibly reminding herself of her affection for her father did she manage it.
    In the following hour, she had to exercise resolute command over her behaviour. The tempting thought that another
disadvantageous
outburst might result in Miss Orksville’s hasty departure was abandoned only when Mrs Boulton-Cox’s prissy pronouncements came to mind. Her enforced control brought a flush to her cheeks and an ache to her jaw.
    Her father watched the proceedings with such a tight smile pinned to his face that his jaw soon ached too. Miss Orksville’s notions of what constituted proper conduct for a young lady were far and distant from Araminta’s view. His previous optimism faded somewhat. Unless he was very much mistaken there were stormy waters ahead.

Chapter Three
    U naware of her new employer’s fears, Miss Orksville cast her eyes over Araminta’s gown again.
    ‘As soon as you have shown me to my room I shall send a note to a woman I know. She’s the fastest seamstress in town. She will have you suitably gowned in no time.’
    ‘Um –’ Araminta began.
    ‘Now.’ She rose. ‘My room, if you please.’
    ‘There’s a slight problem with the rooms I’m afraid, Miss Orksville, ma’am,’ Archibald said.
    The thin eyebrows elevated above the pale eyes. ‘And that is?’
    ‘No linen.’
    ‘No linen?’
    ‘No linen. Her ladyship took it all with her.’
    Wilhelmina Orksville’s frigid countenance expressed her opinion of Constance Fosbury.
    ‘So,’ Archibald hurried on. ‘We need to buy some today. If we can’t I’ll bespeak rooms at the hotel.’
    ‘Nonsense.’ Wilhelmina’s tone had her employer jumping as if stung. ‘There’s bound to be some somewhere. I doubt the servants’ beds were stripped.’ Her faintly accusing stare switched to her new charge. ‘Have you examined them?’
    Araminta shook her head. The titian curls flicked dangerously. ‘I don’t even know where they are.’
    Miss Orksville’s fingers twitched. ‘Then we had better find them, miss.’ Her dark hem whipped round her ankles as she made for the door. ‘Come along,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘We’ll start in the maids’ rooms.’
    The maids’ rooms were tiny spaces squashed under the attic’s sloping roof. The first one had Araminta ducking her head almost as soon as she entered. The gloomy light came from a minuscule window that had clearly never been cleaned. The walls stood in dire need of repainting and all but the most basic of comforts was lacking. Two truckle beds were squeezed head first under the sloping ceiling where it angled down to a side wall barely three feet high. A battered chest of drawers crouched by the door with a row of hooks on the wall at its far side. Folded onto the thin mattresses were coarse-looking blankets topped by worn sheets. A lumpy pillow lay beside each pile. Miss Orksville