Midnight Star Read Free Page A

for her, Alfred, and still she acts the proud heiress! And those lies she told about dear Owen! The poor boy was much shocked, I assure you.”
    “Was he now?” Uncle Alfred murmured.
    “Indeed! And the girls aren’t learning a thing from her. Poor Janine told me that Elizabeth had the nerve to scold her for not paying proper attention to her math lesson. Math, of all things! I put a stop to that! Such a pity that she didn’t marry Sir Guy, but I suppose he jilted her when he learned the true state of things.”
    “No, ’twas Elizabeth who released him.”
    “So she said,” Augusta scoffed. “Stupid of her, I say, if it is true, which I doubt. Just like her mother, she is. All proud and misty-eyed, and not a grain of sense! You can stop looking so misty-eyed, Alfred! Oh yes, I know that you looked sheep’s eyes at dear, sweet Isobel.”
    Chauncey froze. Uncle Alfred and her mother? You’re eavesdropping, my girl, and hearing things you shouldn’t. She wanted to leave, but her feet seemed nailed to the floor. She heard her uncle sigh deeply. “Isobel is dead, Gussie. I admired her, yes, but so did most people.”
    “Ha! All she produced was one worthless girl. Treated her like a little princess until she died in childbed with another daughter. If Isobel had brought a decent dowry to Alec, perhaps today you and I would own Jameson Hall.”
    “Elizabeth would own Jameson Hall, not us, my dear.”
    “Had I been Alec’s older brother, rather thanhis sister, it would be I to own it! Lord knows you haven’t made the wisest of investments, and you in trade! We’ve three daughters, Alfred, and husbands to find for each of them.”
    Alfred said mildly, “At least you’ve obtained a free governess for them, my love. That is a saving, I should say, to your houshold expenses. As for my investments, you know that Owen outspends his very generous allowance and brings in not a sou.”
    “Owen is a gentleman,” Augusta said angrily. “He will marry well, I will see to it. And as for that haughty little niece of mine, I vow she wouldn’t raise that proud little chin of hers at me if she but knew the truth about her dear father.”
    Truth? What truth? Leave, Chauncey, go now. But she still didn’t move. She wondered wildly if her uncle were sweating under his wife’s tirade.
    “Leave it be, Gussie. The girl earns her keep.”
    “So, Alfred, you want to protect her, and I know why. Isobel’s precious daughter, that’s why! Well, if she dares to bring tales of Owen to me again, I will tell her that her dear father took his own life. Just see if I don’t!”
    Chauncey stared blindly at the bedroom door. Her dear father took his own life.  . . .
    “No!” It was a soft, agonized sound that tore from her throat. She doubled over, the pain so terrible that she thought she would die from it. “No!”
    Mary, the one servant in Heath House who treated Chauncey courteously, found her huddled on the lower stairs to the third-floor servants’ quarters. “Miss,” she said softly, lightlytouching her hand to Chauncey’s shoulder. “Are you all right, miss?”
    Chauncey raised dazed eyes to Mary’s face. “He could not have done such a thing,” she whispered.
    “No, of course not,” Mary assured her, having no idea what Miss Elizabeth was talking about. She saw the despair in the young lady’s eyes and wished there was something she could say to ease her pain. It was likely the mistress and her sharp tongue that had brought her to such a state. Damn the old bitch anyway!
    “Oh, Mary!” The tears gushed from her eyes, and she sobbed brokenly, nestled against Mary’s ample bosom.
     
    Chauncey raised her chin and quickened her pace along the sidewalk. She had no money, and the walk from Bedford Square to Uncle Paul’s office on Fleet Street was long and tiring. She had worn a heavily veiled black bonnet, and it protected her from the advances of the young men, who took it for granted that a woman by herself