Martha Schroeder Read Online Free Page A

knowledge.
    “Ah, Jane, you know me too well. But I did not come here to complain. It seems I have done nothing but burden you with my grief ever since Papa died.”
    “Nonsense, Amy. You have continued the duke’s work almost from the day of the funeral. In fact, I thought that you were to attend some musicale this evening, hoping to corner that wealthy nabob and wring a few groats from him.” Jane laughed at Amy’s indignant look.
    “Calumny, vile calumny!” Amy chuckled, too. Hostesses who were pleased to entertain a duke’s daughter often found that they and their guests paid for the privilege with a subscription to one or another of Lady Amelia’s favorite charities.
    “I simply offer the ton the means to balance their frivolities with the gift of some necessities for others.”
    “Ah, of course.” The door opened, and a bright childish face looked in. “Yes, Opal?”
    “Excuse me, Miss Jane, but you telled me to read my chapter and now I done it.” Opal, a small, thin child whose bright eyes were shyly cast down before her schoolmistress’s elegant friend, sketched a curtsy.
    “You may ask Cook for a glass of milk before you go to bed. You remember Miss Amelia, do you not?” Jane rose and went to put her arm around the little girl, who smiled up adoringly.
    “Yes, ma’am. Good evening, Miss Amelia. Good night, Miss Amelia, good night, ma’am.” Having taken care of the polite formulas in a few words, Opal slipped back out the door.
    “Does she live with you now?” Amelia asked. “I remember seeing her at the school.”
    “No. I take one of the scholarship girls home with me each month, so that they can learn how to go on. That way, when they are employed in a genteel household, they will fit in.”
    “What a splendid idea. I must talk to Gideon about doing the same thing with the orphans in our school.” Amelia made a mental note. “I can have them stay at Doncaster House and— She broke off as memory returned. “No, I cannot. I forgot. I will not be taking anyone to Doncaster House anymore. Hortense called this afternoon to announce that she and Eustace will be moving in shortly. In time for Christmas.” Amelia leaned forward and clasped her hands tightly. “I thought I was prepared for this, but now that it has come, I find I am not. Even though Papa left the contents of the house to me and the rest is just brick and mortar, the thought of leaving—is difficult.” Amelia’s throat constricted, and she clenched her hands more tightly. She hated the very idea of crying. She should be done with all that by now. Papa would not wish her to mourn, but to carry on his work.
    “Of course it is. Especially since it is that toad Eustace who has inherited it. Where are you going to go?”
    Amelia looked up. “I was rather hoping you would take me in for the holidays. I can earn my keep, you know. If your cook wants to return home for Christmas, I can replace her. Or any of the teachers. Except music, of course. Or drawing. I was terrible at those, but I can keep up with almost everything else.”
    Jane shook her head. “You are welcome here anytime you wish to come, Amy, you know that. You do not need to do any more than you already have.” She reached out her hand to her friend.
    “I simply hadn’t thought about Christmas. Or rather I had planned to fill the house with you and the children. And Gideon of course since he’s at Horse Guards for the time being.”
    “This house hardly compares to Doncaster House, but we can certainly squeeze Captain Falconer in. Perhaps he might consent to pass out the presents. If he wore his regimentals, the children would be most impressed.”
    The idea of Gideon surrounded by little girls amused Amy. He spent most of his spare moments at the orphanage the duke had established on a farm not far from London. There it was clear that Gideon had a gift for talking to small boys. And he could talk to men in the military or politics about their professions,