The Constant Companion Read Online Free PDF

introductions, “Oh, this is a poor little relative of mine—old Edward Lamberton’s girl, you know—I couldn’t let her
starve
, my dears.”
    Constance had also come to dread the presence of the Comte Duval who would pay court to Amelia, while all the while his snapping black eyes would watch Constance like a cat watching a mouse. Amelia encouraged the comte shamelessly to bolder gallantries, enjoying Constance’s very obvious discomfort.
    One evening after the opera, it almost seemed as if the comte would stay the night, but Amelia had at last stopped his love-making and had said with a light laugh, “You must go, my dear Pierre. I am become respectable, you see, and plan to marry soon,” and then had laughed at the comte’s startled face. “Not you, stupid. I plan to wed Cautry.”
    “Cautry!” Duval had sneered. “He will never have you!”
    “Oh, but he will,” Amelia had mocked, her eyes swivelling to look at Constance who was sitting looking as uncomfortable as a gooseberry usually feels. “I have a plan, you see…”
    Constance now wondered just what that plan was. She knew that Amelia planned to meet Philip Cautry that very evening. Amelia had dressed with great care for the occasion in a dress of spider gauze held with diamond clasps over an underdress of palest pink silk. The diamond pendant from Mrs. Besant burned at her throat and long diamond drops ornamented her tiny ears. She wore a magnificent fairy-tale tiara atop her heavy fair hair. Constance privately thought her mistress a trifle overdressed for such an occasion, but Amelia seemed thoroughly pleased with the dazzling picture she presented. Constance was demurely dressed in an old rose silk gown of Amelia’s, which had pretty puffed sleeves and three deep vandyked flounces at the hem.
    Her only ornament was a seed pearl necklace belonging to her late mother, and her thick black hair was braided in a coronet on top of her small head. Regular feeding had added some much needed flesh to her slight form and, had Amelia not been so ridiculously vain, she would have noticed that her companion was becoming unsuitably pretty. But Mrs. Besant had noticed, and had rubbed her hands in glee. Constance’s well-bred air made Amelia appear rather overblown and showy by contrast, and Mrs. Besant did so hope that Lord Philip Cautry would notice that contrast.
    The carriage drew up at last in front of a very elegant mansion in Berkeley Square.
    Lady Eleanor stood at the top of the steps leading to the blue saloon and watched Amelia moving up the red-carpeted stairs towards her. She gave the infuriated Amelia a mere two fingers to shake and then turned her frosty glare on the figure of Constance. “And who is this?” she demanded.
    “My companion, Miss Lamberton,” murmured Amelia. “You know, old Edward Lamberton’s girl. Absolutely starving and no home of her own. I had to take her in. It was the least I could do.”
    “Indeed!” Lady Eleanor glared awfully at Constance who blushed miserably and wondered what she had done to offend. She did not know that Lady Eleanor blamed Sir Edward Lamberton for introducing her young brother, Philip, to all the wild and rakish sports that she so much deplored.
    “Indeed!” she said again. “Then I am afraid Miss… er… Lamberton will need to wait in some anteroom. I was not expecting you to bring anyone, Lady Godolphin, and I only have space in the saloon for the guests who were
invited
.”
    “Oh, very well,” shrugged Amelia. “Put her where you will.” And without turning to see whether anyone was taking care of Constance, she sailed on into the blue saloon.
    Lady Eleanor half turned and summoned Mr. Evans with an imperious wave of her hand. “Ah, Mr. Evans, this is Miss Lamberton. We do not have a chair for her at the
musicale
, so please put her in some room to wait until the entertainment is over.”
    “Very good, madam,” beamed Mr. Evans. He thought Lady Eleanor had said “Miss