The Tudor Signet Read Online Free PDF Page A

admitted. “Well, sometimes a trifle tiresome. But, you see, I want to dance at Almack’s when I make my come-out and Mama says nothing so disgusts the lady patronesses as indecorous conduct. Miss Bertrand need not care for such things. She never had a come-out and now she is too old, and anyway, she would never have obtained vouchers.”
    “Who is she?”
    “Old Mr. Barwith’s niece. He is mad as a March...I mean,” she hurriedly corrected herself, “not quite right in the head. He never hired a governess for Miss Bertrand when her mama died, which was when she was just a child so she never learned how to behave properly.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Only think, she wears unmentionables and rides astride! Mama is sorry for her but we do not call at Bell-Tor Manor.”
    Malcolm felt a pang of pity for Miss Bertrand, left without guidance and ostracized even by his amiable sister.
    “She does not go to church,” Emily added primly.
    Since he only attended services when staying at Ashminster with his parents, he found nothing to cavil at in this evidence of dereliction. However, Miss Bertrand had held up his carriage and stolen an item of particular interest, he reminded himself. What was her connection with Ralph Riddlesworth?
    “Has she no other relatives or friends to advise her?” he asked.
    “There is Sir Ralph. I suppose he is her cousin since he is Mr. Barwith’s nephew, but she cannot look to him for advice. He is much the same age as she is, and Mama says he is a shocking here-and-thereian.”
    Trying to disguise his curiosity, Malcolm said casually, “You are acquainted with him?”
    “Oh no, not really, only to bow to because he is such a close neighbour, and not always so much. Mama says there are situations in which it is not impolite to cut an acquaintance. We saw him in Plymouth, once, when we had been shopping and met the carriage at the Golden Hind. He was playing cards with some sailors and though Mama said they were officers by their uniforms, they did not look at all gentlemanly, so we did not acknowledge Sir Ralph.”
    “Very wise.” So Riddlesworth gambled with naval officers, did he? Very interesting!
    “Another time he was singing in the street,” Emily went on, “and Mama said she feared he must be a trifle foxed. That means he had drunk too much wine,” she explained in a hushed voice.
    Malcolm hid a smile. “A common failing in young men, alas. He lives in Plymouth, I suppose?”
    “No, at Bell-Tor Manor--it’s just on the other side of Wicken’s Down--with Mr. Barwith and Miss Bertrand. The servants say Miss Bertrand mothered Sir Ralph right from the first when he was orphaned and went to live at the Manor, although she was only a little girl. Was not that fine of her? Oh, Uncle, pray do not tell Mama I have gossiped with the servants!”
    “I shan’t,” he promised, glad to find a chink in his rather priggish niece’s armour.
    “I do not in general,” she assured him, “but Charles’s sister Carrie is in service at the Manor and sometimes he tells me things because he knows how I admire Miss Bertrand.”
    Wondering if Lilian realized the extent of her daughter’s fascination with the ramshackle Miss Bertrand, Malcolm silently confessed that he himself could not help but admire her. Her courage and spirit were as undeniable as her folly. He had expected Riddlesworth to play the highwayman, not a green girl. Why had she done it?
    Misplaced loyalty? Well, loyalty was a virtue, even when lavished on an undeserving object. In her own unconventional way, Miss Bertrand was admirable.
    Riddlesworth, however, was not, and the girl was now Malcolm’s link to the young baronet.
    He sprang to his feet as Lilian came in. “How is she?”
    “Miss Bertrand regained her senses, I am happy to...”
    “I must speak to her!”
    His vehemence made her stare. “You cannot. As I was about to say, she regained her senses but she was in such pain that I gave her some laudanum.