The Mischief of the Mistletoe: A Pink Carnation Christmas Read Free

married, living every day in constant expectation of a proposal. It was a proposal that had come, but to Aunt Osborne, not to her.
    A lucky escape, she told herself stoutly, struggling her way up the hill. He had proved himself a fortune hunter and a cad. Wasn’t she better off without such a husband as that? And she wasn’t entirely without resources, whatever the Musgraves of the world might believe. She had her own wits to see her through. Being a schoolmistress might not be what she had expected, and it certainly wasn’t the same as having a home of one’s own, but it would give her somewhere to go, something to do, a means of living without relying on the charity of her aunt. Or her new uncle.
    Uncle Hayworth. It made her feel more than a little sick.
    â€œShe must not have been able to do without you,” said Jane.
    Arabella wrenched her attention back to her friend. “Who?”
    â€œYour aunt.” When Arabella continued to look at her blankly, Jane said, “You hadn’t heard?”
    â€œHeard what?”
    Jane shook her head. “I must have been mistaken. I heard your aunt was in Bath. A party came up from London. There’s to be an assembly and a frost fair.”
    â€œNo. I—” Arabella bit her lip. “You probably weren’t mistaken. I’m sure she is in town.”
    Captain Musgrave had expressed a desire to go to Bath. He had never been, he said. He had made serious noises about Roman ruins and less serious ones about restorative waters, making droll fun of the invalids in their Bath chairs sipping sulfurous tonics.
    Jane looked at her with concerned eyes. “Wouldn’t she have called?”
    â€œAunt Osborne call at Westgate Buildings? The imagination rebels.” No matter that Arabella had lived under her roof for the larger part of her life; Aunt Osborne only recognized certain addresses. Pasting on a bright smile, Arabella resolutely changed the subject. “But Miss Climpson’s is within easy distance of Westgate Buildings. I’ll be near enough to visit on my half days.”
    â€œIf you have half days,” murmured Jane.
    Arabella chose to ignore her. “Perhaps Margaret will like me better if she doesn’t have to share a bed with me.” She had meant it as a joke, but it came out flat. “I don’t want to be a burden on them.”
    It was as close as she could come to mentioning the family finances, even to an old family friend.
    Jane made a face. “But to teach . . .”
    â€œHow can you speak against teaching, with your own father a teacher?”
    â€œHe teaches from home, not a school,” Jane pointed out sagely. “It’s an entirely different proposition.”
    â€œI certainly can’t teach from my home,” said Arabella tartly. “There’s scarcely room for us all as it is. Our lodgings are bursting at the seams. If we took in pupils, we would have to stow them in the kitchen dresser, or under the stove like kindling.”
    Jane regarded her with frank amusement. “Under the stove? You don’t have much to do with kitchens in London, do you?”
    â€œYou sound like Margaret now.”
    â€œThat,” said Jane, “was unkind.”
    Arabella brushed that aside. “If I ask nicely, perhaps Miss Climpson will agree to take Lavinia and Olivia on as day students.”
    It was a bit late for Olivia, already sixteen, but would be a distinct advantage for Lavinia. Arabella, at least, had had the advantage of a good governess, courtesy of Aunt Osborne, and she knew her sisters felt the lack.
    â€œIt will not be what you are accustomed to,” Jane warned.
    â€œI wasn’t accustomed to what I was accustomed to,” said Arabella. It was true. She had never felt really at home in society. She was too awkward, too shy, too tall.
    â€œIt is a pretty building, at least,” she said as they made their way along the Sydney Gardens. Miss