Jennie Kissed Me Read Free Page A

You’ll have to go with her, Jennie.”
    “Bother! We will have to go with her.”
    “Lord, my poor bones cannot take anymore shaking this night. What do you say we send him a note and tell him he may collect her here?”
    I had developed a menial attitude from my working past. I was happy Mrs. Irvine alerted me to it. “Perfect! Why should we have the bother of the trip, when he is the one who let her escape? I’ll ask for paper and write the note at once for John Groom to deliver.”
    I rang the bell and wrote the note. There was no cringing or grovelling in it. I said brusquely that Lady Victoria had concealed herself in my carriage without my knowledge or consent, and gave directions for him to pick her up. The instant it was done I sent it off, asking my driver to hire a mount and go on horseback to save time.
    “Less than half an hour to get the note to Lord Marndale, and an hour for him to reach us,” I said. “We may as well wait here. We don’t want to be in our nightgowns when he comes.”
    That left ninety minutes, more or less, to discover what we could of our runaway. We put the time to good use.
    “Your mama is at Wycherly Park, is she?” I asked.
    “Mama died when I was born,” Lady Victoria said, looking up from her cream bun with a long face. A daub of cream on her chin quite ruined her pose. She wished to give herself the airs of an abandoned orphan, when she had obviously been raised in the very lap of luxury.
    “Lord Marndale scarcely looks old enough to be your father,” Mrs. Irvine mentioned.
    “He married my mother when she was seventeen and he, nineteen. They were childhood sweethearts, living right next door. He has never remarried.”
    “That’s a long time to be without a woman. I expect he has lady friends?” I need scarcely identify the speaker as Mrs. Irvine.
    “Oh, yes. Many ladies throw their hankies at him, but he is interested in politics now. He spends a deal of time in London. Perhaps he has a mistress there. At least he never wants me to go with him, though I shall next year to make my debut. Could I have another cream bun, Miss Robsjohn, please?”
    I rang the bell and ordered another cream bun and tea. Eating was better than drinking an excess of wine. I didn’t want her bosky when her father came for her.
    “Did you attend a ladies’ seminary, Lady Victoria?” I asked, to pass the time.
    “No, I had a governess. Miss Clancy married a neighboring tutor last month, which is why I was visiting Aunt Clara in Salisbury till Papa could come home. To Wycherly Park, I mean. He has been in London. I was supposed to remain with Aunt Clara till August, when we were to go to Brighton.” She added in a pouting way, “I don’t see why we cannot go now if he won’t let me go to London.”
    “And why did you leave your Aunt Clara early?” Mrs. Irvine inquired. Her coy look suggested sexual carrying-on.
    Lady Victoria hunched her elegant shoulders. “I expect it was because of Mr. Borsini, the Italian singing instructor. As if I would have run off with him! We were only sitting in the conservatory while he helped me with my Italian grammar lessons.”
    I began to feel a twinge of pity for Lord Marndale. “There is something to be said for sending ladies to a seminary,” I told her, and outlined my own past career.
    “Good gracious, you mean you’re a teacher!” she exclaimed, studying my toilette. “I took you for a lady.”
    “I am a lady!” I replied, high on my dignity.
    I glanced in the mirror over the grate to reassure myself on that score. Certainly I looked every inch the lady in my new finery, acquired since coming into my inheritance. How thrilled I had been to discard my ugly round bonnets and severe dark gowns. I now wore what was the highest kick of fashion in Bath society, but Lady Victoria’s toilette put me in the shade. For travelling my outfit consisted of a dark green worsted suit with a fichu of Belgian lace at the neck. My figure was more