The Virtuous Ward

CHAPTER Eight

Lord Bancroft Paige was perched on the edge of a chair in front of the mahogany desk, his polished boots pressed together and his hands on the knees of his tailored biscuit-colored trousers. Although Max had made small talk in order to put the man at his ease, all his best efforts had been wasted. Like a primed pump, Paige was ready to blurt out his news at the least opening.

"Saw you at Tattersall's last week," Max said, leaning back in the leather chair and stretching his legs. "Were you after the bays or that black stallion?"

"The bays, sir," Bancroft said. For the first time in the interview he relaxed against the back of the chair. "A pair of sweet goers if I ever saw them. Thought to add them to my stable but Percy Waterston was before me. I was surprised since I thought the man was sadly dipped."

"I had heard some such story but I hadn't given it much thought," Max drawled. In actual fact, he had given it a great deal of thought. Since he planned to offer for Honoria it concerned him that rumors persisted that her brother was an inveterate gambler. The times that he had seen Percy he found the stories too credible. And now to purchase those bays. Must have had a run of luck. "Did you find any other cattle to suit?"

" 'Fraid not, sir," Bancroft said, his expression glum. "Thought the bays would have shown well. I must admit I was hoping to impress your ward."

"Amity? I fear you're well out there. Miss Fraser is unimpressed with the normal run of the mill thoroughbred," he smiled in remembrance. "You must ask her sometime to show you Lady Guinevere, a mare she purchased last week."

"A hunter?" Bancroft asked.

"I shouldn't think so," Max said, shaking his head. "Although at this point it's most difficult to tell."

"Beg pardon, sir?"

"Devil take it, Paige," Max snapped in exasperation, bringing the man to sharp attention on his chair. "If you call me sir one more time I shall throw you out on the street. Makes me feel positively decrepit. By gad, sir, I can't be above five years older than you. Call me Max."

"My apologies, si-Max," Bancroft stammered all too conscious of the dangerous gleam in the man's eye. "I was trying to show proper respect."

"Get on with it, Bancroft. I seem to be in an ill humor today but it has little to do with your errand." Max rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why he was feeling so savage. He knew why Paige had requested the interview and he should be delighted. He sighed in resignation, determined to be gracious. "Was there anything special you wished to see me about?"

"Well, yes." Bancroft edged to the front of the chair, smoothing the material over one knee before he raised his head. His face was flushed and in the early morning light a sheen of perspiration glimmered on his forehead. "It is about your ward."

"Miss Fraser? How singular." Now that the time had come, Max decided to be as difficult as possible. After all he needed to find out if the man had character of his own or had borrowed courage from his sister.

"Over the last few weeks I have had an opportunity to observe Miss Fraser and I find her to be a charmingly mannered young lady."

"You observed her, you say?"

Bancroft missed the glimmer of humor in the other man's comment and became more agitated. "I was not spying on the girl!" he said much offended. "It was just that I have been aware of Miss Fraser when we have chanced to encounter each other."

"How splendid."

Finding small help from Max, Bancroft stood up, too restless to be confined to the chair. He tugged his jacket to remove any wrinkles and then paced in front of Max's desk, running a hand through his carefully arranged curls, much to their detriment. It was several minutes before he felt composed enough to broach the subject and then in a burst of energy he spoke. "I should like your permission to pay my addresses to your ward, Miss Amity Fraser."

"That's the ticket, Bancroft," Max applauded. "For a moment there I thought you might refuse the fence."

"Sir?" he said in bewilderment.

The man was a slow top, Max thought in chagrin. Aloud he said, "As far as I am concerned, you have my permission."

"Good show, sir!" Bancroft cried.

"Before you fall on your knees in gratitude, I should warn you that it will still be up to Amity whether she accepts your proposal," Max warned.

"I understand."

"When she arises this morning, I shall acquaint her with your visit. Perhaps you might care to return this afternoon for her answer."

"Would two be convenient?"

"Excellent."

After several more bursts of enthusiasm from Bancroft, Max ushered the man out and returned to the library. He walked to the window overlooking the garden. Placing his boot on the window seat, he rested his arms on his knee, his face thoughtful. He had already given the word to Putnam to send Amity to see him when she came down. Now he debated the best way to approach the subject.

He should be elated that he had found such an eligible parti for the girl. It was true she was an heiress and fair of face, but that did not always mean success in the marriage mart. Though slightly priggish, Bancroft Paige was an exceptional choice. He was reputed to be quite plump in the pocket and had at least two estates that Max knew of. He would have his man of business check further into his credentials to be certain he was sound. His ward should be delighted that the man had come up to scratch. He assumed the blond curls and lean body would be a considerable advantage in helping Amity make her decision.

As her guardian he had arranged a suitable match. He wondered why he had been so quick to refuse the other offers; with the exception of General Cuthburton most had been respectable suitors. In retrospect, he supposed Paige was the best of the lot. It was a shame that he could not like the man better. Over the years he had seen a fair amount of Paige and he had observed no depth of feeling or love of culture that might have mitigated the overall negative feeling he had for the man. Max found him rather shallow, with a tendency to be self-righteous and pompous. However in the long run it was not his decision to make. As guardian he had found an eligible suitor for the hand of his ward.

"Good morning, Max," Amity chirped from the doorway.

The girl came into the room like a cloud of butterflies, Max thought inanely. Her dress was a cornflower silk that shimmered in the sunlight as she crossed the carpet. There were soft touches of filmy lace at the rounded neck and wrists but aside from that the gown was free of ornamentation. A wide brimmed straw hat trimmed with small blue flowers was dangling by its ribbons from her hand. The other held a sleek parasol which matched her dress.

Placing his boot on the floor, Max turned to greet his ward. She came at him in a rush, stumbling over a wrinkle in the carpet and he caught her in his arms. He was surrounded by the fresh scent of flowers and for a moment held her against his chest as he drew in the fragrance. She moved and he pushed her upright, crossing his hands behind his back, much too aware of the feel of the girl's body.

"Must I always charge you to enter a room with dignity," he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Max," Amity said, puzzled at his sudden anger since he had just been smiling at her with some fondness. "Putnam told me you wanted to see me and I didn't want to keep you waiting."

"Well, I appreciate your promptness," Max responded, moving to stand behind the desk, creating a barrier between himself and his ward. "Please have a seat. I would have a word with you."

Amity sat down on the chair that Paige had so recently vacated. In an unconscious imitation, she too was perched on the edge of the seat, her eyes apprehensive as she stared across the desk. He refused to further duplicate the scene so he came around to the front of the desk and sat on the corner facing her.

"This morning I had an interview with Bancroft Paige." He could tell by the sudden blink of her eyes that she was aware of the purpose of the man's visit. Surely he hadn't spoken prematurely to the girl. "Did you know he had asked to see me?"

"No, sir," she said, eyes lowered to her lap. "I had reason to believe that he might ask for an interview. He hinted of such the last time he called."

"Are you aware of the subject he wished to discuss?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible and a flush burning high on her cheekbones. "I have reason to suspect that he has developed a tendre for me."

"Spot on." Max waited but there were no more words forthcoming. "Confound it, Amity. Must you memorize the pattern of your dress? I'll admit it is fetching but I refuse to hold any further conversation with the top of your head."

Amity giggled and she raised her head so that Max had full benefit of her crystal blue eyes. As always he was fascinated by the clarity of color and felt he could drown in their depths. Her complexion was glowing and for a moment he ached to touch her soft cheek. He shook his head, trying to focus on the subject under discussion.

"That's better. Now then. I am happy to tell you that I have already received several offers for your hand besides the one this morning. I have considered them all and as of this moment feel that Bancroft Paige would be an acceptable suitor."

"Do you like him?" Amity asked.

"More to the point, my dear, is whether you like him."

"He is quite handsome," she admitted. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes focused inward. "I have found his company pleasurable and his manners are impeccable."

"Do you have some feeling for the man?"

"I do not know," she answered. She blinked several times and brought her attention back to her guardian. "What sort of feeling?"

"It varies, my dear." By her very confusion, Max could tell that her heart was not engaged with Paige and for some reason that pleased him. He supposed it was because he wished her to make a thoughtful decision, rather than leap to a conclusion, as she was wont to do. "Sometimes it is a feeling that you miss the person or your heart might jump with excitement when you see a certain someone. Do you feel that with Bancroft?"

Amity's nose wrinkled as she concentrated on her feelings. Moments later she shook her head, looking rather wistful. "Truly, Max, I cannot claim to either of those feelings. All I can say is that I am always pleased to see him. He can be very amusing. I enjoy talking to him and we seem to be friends."

"There is more to marriage than mere friendship," Max said. There was such an aura of innocence that surrounded Amity that he wondered how much awareness she had of the intimacies of married life. "Have any of the gentlemen of your acquaintance made any advances to you? A touch or a stolen kiss?"

"Oh, no, Max. They have treated me with great care," she answered, her eyes wide with sincerity.

That certainly is a sad commentary on modern youth, Max thought in disgust. He could not imagine how any virile young man could be in the company of Amity and not try to press a kiss on that wide, lush mouth. The cherry lips were parted now and the sheen of moisture covering them beckoned. He groaned at his wandering thoughts and jerked away from the desk, walking toward the door.

"Bancroft in particular," Amity continued, "has been most attentive. He treats me very well, as if I were some fragile flower that at times I find rather amusing. Would you like me to marry him?"

"Heaven forfend, Amity!" Max whirled around and glared at the girl.

"I thought you said you found him an acceptable suitor," Amity argued.

"I am not the one who will be marrying the man! You are the one who must make the decision. As your guardian, it is my duty to make sure that any offer made to you would be to your benefit. All I have said is that I find Bancroft Paige acceptable."

"There is little need to shout at me, Max," Amity said, an injured look on her face as she gripped the parasol with both hands. "I am trying to understand what you want me to do."

"My dear, I am sorry for being so contentious," Max said. He did not wish to argue the merits of Bancroft Paige. He wanted Amity to make her decision with haste so that he might get on with his own life, free of her disturbing presence. He drew a deep breath and crossed the room to stand beside her chair. "Please believe me I have only your best interests at heart. Paige will call on you this afternoon. It is a good offer and I think you should accept him. Perhaps you do not entertain any strong feelings for him at this point but once you are married those feelings will come. I think he would make a good husband. He would provide financial security and he no doubt would cause you little grief," Max said.

"It does not sound very exciting," Amity ventured. Then seeing the smoldering glint in her guardian's eye, she hurried on. "Thank you for your advice, Max. I will think on it. When he comes I will give him my answer."

After Amity left, Max sat for a long time staring at the books on the shelves without really seeing them. He suspected with his recommendation, Amity would accept Paige's offer. For once the girl was doing what he wanted. He should be jumping for joy yet he felt a curious depression. Determined to ride off his ill humor, he stomped off to the stables.

Amity spent her time pacing her bedroom considering what answer to give to Bancroft. As usual, Muffin reclined on the striped chaise longue, opening one or both eyes to consider the restlessness of his mistress. Sometimes as she passed him, she stroked the soft head and he responded with an unenthusiastic tail wag.

She tried to remind herself of how much she wanted to marry and have a child to love but somehow that thought did not stir her as it used to. It had become apparent to her that having a baby was not the perfect solution to her loneliness. In her dealings with Max she had discovered the real joy to be found in a friendship with a man. This was such a novel experience for her that she did not understand why she had not suspected it earlier. Her solitary life at Beech House had not prepared her for the contentment she would feel in her relationship with her guardian. She loved talking with Max, sharing ideas and arguing about books or the latest news; she enjoyed being with him, watching the play of emotions across his face and the special way his eyes lit up in approval. It never had occurred to her that this type of relationship was possible or that she would find it so satisfying. This revolutionary idea was confusing.

For Amity, a child had always been the reason for marriage. She was now beginning to understand that the real prize to strive for was to find a person to marry who could love her and with whom she could share an adult relationship. A child would be a bonus, a gift of celebration of her love for a man. Now she wondered if without that love her life would be complete.

She liked Bancroft better than any of the other men she had met since her arrival in London. He was handsome and in her dealings with him he had been kind to her. Was it possible that she might grow to love him? Max wanted her to marry Bancroft and she did want to please her guardian. He was far more worldly than she and he seemed to think she would deal well with Bancroft. She knew she must marry. She could not continue to live with her guardian and Lady Grassmere. Especially if Max married Honoria.

With all her heart she wished he would not marry the woman. She loved Max dearly and would have him marry a woman who could bring light and laughter to his life. He had changed much since the day she had arrived at Edgeworth. It had seemed to Amity then that he was little used to laughter but as the days and weeks passed he had seemed to view the world more humorously and his words were less filled with biting sarcasm. There was little laughter in Honoria.

Amity admitted that she did not have a positive opinion about the woman but it was not just based on her own dealings with her. The more she went about in society, the more aware Amity was of the ill feelings others had toward Miss Waterston. Although she had not probed for information, she heard the stories and was amazed that Max should think so well of the woman. She had come to the conclusion that the woman was two-faced, showing sunshine and docility to Max while hiding another side which was considerably darker.

Before Amity was brought to Edgeworth, she had thought only occasionally of Max. Because she did not know him, she made of him a hero. Now that she knew him he was no less a hero and if he were gone from her life she would miss him more than she expected. If he married Honoria she knew that she would see little of Max. His bride would take care of that.

Amity's eyes filled at the very thought and she dropped down on the end of the chaise, her hand reaching out to take comfort from Muffin's nearness. She closed her eyes and placed her head on the dog's back, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Muffin snuffled in his sleep and Amity stroked his soft hair until he quieted. Then she pushed herself upright, dried her eyes and considered what she should do. If she were a little more sophisticated, things might work out more easily. She had seen the growing attraction between Betta and Jason Conway. It was apparent to her that they were falling in love and she wished that she felt the strong pull of emotions to guide her in her decision. All she could do was to listen to Bancroft's declaration and see if her heart spoke to her. If she felt she could grow fond of him then she would accept him.

Her glance flicked to the clock and she sighed at how fast the time had passed. If she did not hurry she would miss lunch and that would disappoint Lady Grassmere. She was nervous over the coming interview and had little enthusiasm for conversation. Lady Grassmere was concerned over her silence and kept asking her if she were well. It was almost a relief when Bancroft Paige was announced. Lady Grassmere was well aware of the import of the man's visit, having been primed by Max, so after some general conversation, she excused herself to search for more thread for her needlework. Amity clasped her hands in her lap and waited for Bancroft to speak.

"If I may be permitted to say so, Miss Fraser, you look in the bloom of good health today. Blue becomes you."

Bancroft spoke from the side of the fireplace near where he had been sitting when Lady Grassmere had made her graceful exit. A smile tugged at Amity's mouth and she wondered if he were going to shout his declaration from such a distance.

"Thank you for your kind words. And may I return the compliment, milord. You are well turned out today."

It was true, Amity thought. Bancroft was not as tall as Max and his body was not as muscular but he wore his clothes with a similar air of sophistication. He knew he was handsome and held himself with arrogance. He was wearing a dark brown jacket and biscuit colored trousers above polished top boots. His shirt was the softest of lawn and his cravat was tied simply but elegantly. His blond curls were brushed into the popular Windswept that on him complimented the beauty of his features. Amity thought he looked rather like a cupid with his bow-shaped mouth.

"Have you spoken to your guardian, Miss Fraser?" Bancroft moved several feet closer and leaned against the back of a high-backed chair.

"Yes. This morning." She lowered her eyes so he might not see her amusement at his maneuvering. She felt rather like a dove being stalked by a hawk. "He told me to expect your call."

"I wish to tell you, Miss Fraser, that I admire you a great deal." Bancroft's voice came from the far side of the round table in front of the settee on which Amity sat.

"Thank you," she mumbled, knowing her words were inadequate to the occasion but she could think of nothing intelligent to reply.

"Your manners show excellent background and breeding, Miss Fraser."

"Oh!" The nearness of his voice startled her and when she raised her eyes she was amazed at how closse he had moved for he now stood directly beside her.

"Oh, Miss Fraser, will you do me the kind honor of accepting my regard for you by saying you will be my wife?"

At this ardent declaration, Bancroft threw himself down on one knee in front of her. Although Amity had been expecting this eventuality, she was surprised that she felt an overwhelming urge to giggle. For the moment her heart seemed to be indicating little that was useful.

"Come, your lordship, have done with this drama," she said. At his look of affronted dignity, she lowered her voice to a more coaxing tone. "Marriage is a serious business and I would deal fairly with you. Come sit beside me where we can talk."

She patted the cushion beside her and smiled into his face. Though annoyed that his well-staged proposal was not going as smoothly as expected, Bancroft was not impervious to the enchantment. Grumbling low in his throat, he stood up and brushed the creases from his trousers before seating himself beside her.

"I must tell you first, that I am sensible of the singular honor you do me by seeking my hand in marriage." She was relieved that her words had such a salubrious effect on his bearing. "I like you very well and I could accept your offer if I was convinced we would suit."

"How generous you are, Miss Fraser."

"We are much too formal for this occasion. Perhaps I might call you Bancroft and you would consent to call me Amity," she suggested, her blue eyes twinkling.

"It would be my honor, Amity."

Bancroft beamed at her. He had taken possession of her hand and was patting it with the same attention as one might in consoling a child. She felt a little less awkward now that they were sitting side by side.

"I wish to be totally honest with you," Amity said, gulping in her nervousness. Finally she blurted out the words, that had been bothering her, "As much as I admire you, Bancroft, I cannot tell you that I am in love with you."

"Love?" Bancroft looked surprised at her words. "But I did not expect that, my dear. After all until we are married it would be strange indeed if you should entertain such feelings. Love is based on many qualities and these would be brought on by the, shall we say, the intimacies of married life."

"Oh," Amity said, flushing in confusion.

"At this time I would hope you might admire me and think of me as a friend. After we are married you will find that the feelings we have for each other will grow in depth. You do not find me repugnant?" he asked jokingly.

"Oh, never that, Bancroft," Amity cried. She could not believe she was making such a hash of things. She held her breath, slowly releasing it as her composure was restored. "I like you very well."

"I can offer you financial security and an impeccable name. I am not one to dally in the clubs or fritter away my funds in gambling hells. I do not approve of loose morals, so you need have no fear that I will embarrass you in that area. I do not consider myself a demanding person and you would be free to conduct yourself much as you are used to," he concluded.

"I can see you will make a very good husband," Amity said with all sincerity. "However are you certain that I will make you a good wife?"

"Since the first night I met you I have been aware of your quality, my dear," Bancroft said. "Although at first I was taken aback by your hair, I find I have become used to it. You have learned to confine it in a most becoming manner. Your manners in company are excellent. Your sense of style and your ease of conversation are exceptional. Always conscious of my obligations to society, I have seen nothing in your behavior to suggest you would not be acceptable in all quarters."

"Thank you, Bancroft," Amity said. She smiled wistfully, wishing somehow that his words had been more loverlike but then she supposed that too would come after marriage.

"Do you see any impediment to our betrothal, my dear?" he asked.

Amity was silent for a moment, wondering how she should broach one area that troubled her. She wondered if he had told his sister that he planned to offer for her. She wished she had had more of an opportunity to get to know Ophelia. When she was around the woman, she sensed a slight disapproval but perhaps that was her way. Ophelia and Bancroft were very close and it would be difficult if the woman did not like her.

"I do not see an impediment, but I do have one concern. That is, I worry that your s-sister might not approve," she said, stumbling over her words. "How will Ophelia receive this news?"

"It is my fond hope that she will be gratified by my choice."

Amity noticed an expression of uneasiness shadow his face and wondered if Ophelia had already verbalized some objection. "I know you are very fond of your sister and I would hate to think she might not approve. I will be frank in saying that I have not had a loving family around me as a child and I would much regret if my marrying you created a rift in your relationship."

"Ah, my dear. I can see you will make a wonderful helpmate in attempting to smooth the course of our lives together," Bancroft said, smiling benignly at her. "Ophelia may have some slight reservation at this point but it is because she does not see you in the same light that I do. Once you two have more time together, I know you will become good friends."

"Might I offer a suggestion, Bancroft?" At his nod she continued, "Perhaps you might bring your sister to tea next week. Then she would have a chance to judge more clearly if I will make a suitable wife."

"That's a splendid idea. Would Monday be too soon?" he asked.

"That would be fine," Amity said. "If she approves then I will feel that we are destined to be married. Once we have her approval, then I will be happy to accept your kind and generous offer."

"Oh, my dear. You have made me very happy," Bancroft said, raising her hand to his lips and dropping a light kiss on the back of it. "I am sure Ophelia will be delighted, just as I am."

"Thank you, Bancroft, for your patience."

"In light of your decision, perhaps you would not consider me too forward if I were to request one kiss as a token of our coming betrothal." His face was grave and his eyes held an intensity that left Amity quite breathless.

She was startled at the request and lowered her eyes in confusion. She had never received a kiss from a lover but since Max's mention of the subject, found she was curious as to what feelings it might engender. She was not brave enough to speak; she could only nod her head in agreement.

Bancroft placed his hands on her shoulders, careful not to wrinkle her gown. He turned her toward him and Amity found her heart beating at a terrifying rate. She closed her eyes as he bent his head and waited. Cool, dry lips pressed hers.

For Amity the kiss was pleasurable. There was a sweetness to the caress, a promise of kindness and security. She felt safe in Bancroft's embrace and she sighed with contentment.

"I assume, I may wish you happy," Max's voice was snapped from the doorway.

Bancroft released Amity so suddenly that she almost fell off the settee. The embarrassed gentleman leaped to his feet, standing awkwardly beside her. How poor of Max to interrupt such a blissful experience, she thought in annoyance. Before Bancroft could stammer a reply, she smoothed her skirts and raised ingenuous eyes to her guardian.

"Good afternoon, Max. Won't you join us?" she said, hoping she sounded cool although her pulses were still racing at his sudden appearance. "Bancroft was bidding me goodbye."

"Forever?" came the lugubrious response.

"Naturally not. He will be calling to take me for a drive tomorrow." Turning to Bancroft she was relieved to see that he had regained his composure. "Shall we say two?"

"It will be my pleasure," he agreed. Then before the startled Max could do anything more than wish him good day, Bancroft had exited the room.

"Devil take it, Amity." Max stormed across the carpet to glare down at the smiling girl. "Have you accepted the man or haven't you?"

"I have not exactly accepted him," she began, dropping her gaze at sight of the glittering green eyes which threatened mayhem at the very least.

"Then how dare you let him lay hands on you. He will have a thorough disgust of you and your reputation will be in shreds," Max sneered.

"It was only a kiss, Max. He did not even muss my gown."

"If that is your criterion for modest behavior, you are well out there, my girl." Max dug his hands in his hair, though he acknowledged the fact that he would much prefer to throttle the girl. "Many a deb has found her virtue gone without the slightest damage done to her apparel. In fact some prefer it that way," he finished crudely, wanting to shock her.

"Seems most uncomfortable," was the irrepressible Amity's reply. "Besides, Max, it was just an experiment."

"Good Lord!" Max cried, throwing himself in a chair across from the settee. "What will you be up to next, I wonder?"

"I was curious." He gave her a lowering frown and she knew he was none too pleased with her comment. "I have tentatively accepted his offer. I think that I might learn to love him and I thought perhaps if he kissed me I would discover for certain if I could entertain deeper feelings for him."

"And can you?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so," she said, her face thoughtful as she recalled the event. "I liked it very much."

"I see," Max said "And perhaps you might explain what you meant about tentatively accepting his offer."

"I have told him that the single impediment to our marrying is his sister. I do not think that Ophelia approves of me, Max,"

"Is that so important?" he asked in surprise.

"She would be living in the same house with us. Bancroft is fond of her and it would be hurtful if my marrying him should end their relationship." Amity sighed. "When I was growing up my parents did not approve of me. I do not want to repeat that experience."

Looking across at the sad expression of his ward, Max wanted nothing more than to assure her that Ophelia Paige would love her. He wished he could erase the loneliness she had felt as a child and felt guilty that he also had contributed to that feeling of rejection. Wishing he could go to her and hold her against all the hurts of the world, he tightened his hands on the arms of the chair and spoke quietly. "I think you show good sense, poppet."

"Thank you, sir," she said, dimpling prettily. "I have invited Bancroft to bring his sister Ophelia to tea on Monday. If she does approve then we will announce our engagement."

Max noted Amity's glowing face and felt a sadness creep into his heart. Though he might not think Bancroft the most exciting of men, he was quite suitable and it seemed that his ward might even be falling in love with the man. Soon he could return to the joys of a bachelor household. For some reason the thought did little to alleviate his feeling of depression.