A Useful Woman Read Free

never contracted and do not legally owe.
    Because of the calumnies spread by these smiling fiends who once shook my hand and behaved to all appearances in the manner of gentlemen, I am left with no choice. I must run! I must fly! I am to become a fugitive in my own country lest I be taken up for these false debts.
    Now, you must be strong, my darling! You must remember when these men come to you that they are liars and infamous customers. You must hold your loving heart firm against the falsehoods they will seek to pour into your ears. I know your courage. You will never lose faith in your dearest Reginald. Youknow in the depths of your soul that I will return to restore our family’s reputation and fortune, as soon as I am able.
    To help you in this time of greatest trial, I leave you our daughter Rosalind. Her steady good sense will surely serve to keep and comfort you until I am able to return and clear my good name of these libelous charges and unjust debts. Our loyal and thrice-darling daughter Charlotte has bravely consented to be my companion and helpmeet in the toils of my exile.
    Adieu, my dearest! Have courage! Know that my heart is breaking as I write. Think of your darling Reginald alone in the cold world without one friend to succor him. His only thought is of the day he will be able to reunite all our family and restore tranquility to our home.
    May God bless and keep you both!
    Your eternally loving husband,
    R.T.
    It was Mrs. Kendricks, the housekeeper, who found Rosalind an hour later, still sitting in the book room, breathing in the scent of burning papers, and holding her father’s parting letter in her numbed fingers.

CHAPTER 1
    The Little Scandals of the Little Season
    The lady patronesses of Almack’s . . . carried matters—to say with a high hand seems almost inadequate—shall I write, with a clenched fist?
    â€”E. Beresford Chancellor, The Annals of Almack’s
    L ONDON , F EBRUARY 15, 1817
    â€œAre you sure we may expect callers this early?” asked Mrs. Kendricks.
    Rosalind Thorne smiled up at her housekeeper. She was breakfasting in her parlor with the small table drawn up close to the coal fire. In addition to providing extra warmth, this arrangement allowed her to surreptitiously toast bits of muffin on her fork. Rosalind made sure she’d eaten the evidence of this unladylike occupation before ringing the bell.
    â€œThey will be here,” she told Mrs. Kendricks firmly. “I expect we’ll be seeing Miss Littlefield first, followed by Mr. Faulks. I have laid the most tempting bait possible in front of them. Power is about to change hands. The world will not wait for polite visiting hours to discover the details.” Courtesy dictatedthat morning visitors did not present themselves before eleven o’clock, but the church bells, which tolled solemnly outside the frosted windows, declared it had just gone on nine.
    â€œWell, that should make for a busy season after all.”
    â€œIndeed it will, Mrs. Kendricks, if we’re lucky. I trust we are ready to receive?”
    â€œOf course, miss.” Mrs. Kendricks was a thin, dark woman with severe eyes and narrow, calloused hands. Her long years in service had erased the element of surprise from her being, and taken a goodly portion of her ability to smile with it. “The coffee is ready, and I’ve baked some of my ginger biscuits as well.”
    *   *   *
    Rosalind had no time for further remarks, for at that moment the doorbell jangled, not once, but four times. She and Mrs. Kendricks exchanged a knowing glance before the housekeeper departed to open the door for the insistent visitor.
    Or visitors.
It was possible that Alice Littlefield had met Sanderson Faulks on the way to Little Russell Street. Gentleman that he was, Mr. Faulks would surely offer Alice a ride in his well-sprung and—more importantly—warm carriage. Winter had clamped down hard this