scamp before he frightened the woman. Her concern proved to be unwarranted.
“God-a-mercy! What a delightful doggie! Only mark the imp of mischief behind those eyes. A court jester in a former life, no doubt,” the lady pronounced cheerfully. She leaned forward and stroked Jolly’s head, much to his gratification.
Relieved at not receiving a scold for Jolly’s lack of manners, Daphne overlooked the woman’s odd remark about the dog having a former life. “Oh, Ma’am, I am glad you are not disturbed by him. Jolly can be too lively at times, I fear.” Daphne noticed the way the lady’s gloved fingers rubbed behind Jolly’s ears just the way he liked.
“Too lively? Fudge! Why, he is full of life, as he ought to be,” the lady declared.
Daphne smiled. How pleasant it was to be in the company of someone who appreciated animals as she did. She stared at the woman curiously. Her light brown hair was streaked with gray, and Daphne placed her age past fifty. Wrinkles creased the skin around her eyes, but her complexion was clear and her cheeks a delicate shade of peach. Dressed in a plain gown of a dark blue color, with a shawl that had seen better days, the lady might have been a governess or a genteel lady fallen on hard times.
The woman dropped her hand from Jolly’s head, reached over and gave Holly a thorough pat, and then glanced around the Park a bit nervously.
Discerning her unease, James moved away to stand under a nearby tree.
The woman lowered her voice and confided, “I am Miss Leonie Shelby, lately governess to the Duchess of Welbourne’s two brats.”
Daphne was startled by the lady’s sudden air of subterfuge and at hearing the answers to the very questions which were running around in her mind. “I beg your pardon?”
The woman’s blue eyes twinkled, and Daphne was struck by the kindness they held, a kindness she had not seen in what suddenly seemed like years.
“I suppose I should not have called the children that. But, my dear, the pair of them were horridly dull. I know it is hard to believe that of any child, but they both suffered from an acute lack of imagination. Deplorable!”
Daphne blinked, then nodded her head in what she hoped was an understanding gesture.
Miss Shelby continued, “But I shall have to deal with them no more. The duchess’s scapegrace nephew, Lord Guy, took it upon himself to steal a carved ivory figure of a cat from Her Grace’s extensive ivory collection and foist the blame onto me. Why, I was dismissed without a character—”
Here Miss Shelby interrupted herself anxiously. “Heavens, I am rambling on, and you must only be wishing for a rest. Please sit down, dear child, and bear me company. What is your big black dog’s name?”
Daphne’s head was reeling with the intelligence imparted by Miss Shelby. How dare a peer of the realm blame this sweet lady for his transgressions, knowing she would be cast out on the street? To be turned off without a reference! How dreadful.
Daphne’s tone was tender. She would go slowly and see if she might be of assistance to the lady. “Forgive me for not introducing myself and Holly, Miss Shelby,” she said seating herself on the bench. “I am Miss Daphne Kendall of Clarges Street. In addition to Jolly and Holly, I have a dog named Folly, who is running about somewhere.” Daphne bit her lip and hoped Folly was not getting into any more scrapes.
Miss Shelby clapped her hands with glee. “How charming! We always kept pet dogs at the vicarage when I was growing up. Animals can be such a comfort when one is alone.”
“You had no brothers or sisters, then?”
Miss Shelby laughed softly. “Oh, my, yes. But you see, I was always deemed different from them, and it is human nature to distrust what is unlike one’s self.”
“Indeed,” Daphne replied distractedly as she noticed a portmanteau was tucked under the bench at Miss Shelby’s feet.
Holly and Jolly lay down nearby, tired from the morning’s
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley