Page 76 of The Work of Art

She took a deep breath and related to him the details of Sara’s arrival from London.

He listened without comment.

“So you see,” she concluded, “it’s all my fault, and therefore I must remedy it if I can.”

“It’s no fault of yours. The blame lies with Townsend. You can’t be expected to right all of his wrongs, and I find it singularly presumptuous that this girl expects you to do so.”

“No, indeed. She’s made no such presumption. She’s desperate, and thoroughly wretched. I don’t believe she’s eaten very much at all since I left London, and I shudder to think where she’s been sleeping.” Philly’s mouth tugged into a worried frown. “She’s so thin, Arthur, and so pitiful. I know if you’d seen her as I did that you couldn’t help but have compassion.”

“Perhaps I’d better see her then.”

“Now? Oh no, I don’t think it wise. Not at present. She’s in such a state and you’d only terrify her.”

“She can’t be so terrified of me. Unless I’m mistaken, this is the same maid who complained about your meeting me in the park to Mrs. Vale. The same maid who conspired to isolate you from any suitor other than the Duke of Moreland.”

“Conspired! That’s rather strong. What does a good servant do but protect the interests of their master? Surely you expect the same from your staff. I daresay if I’d twice met a man on one of my walks, you’d have every expectation that the maid or footman accompanying me would inform you of it at once—even if I didn’t wish them to.”

Arthur’s hand tightened reflexively around the handle of his cane. “The difference being that you’re my wife, and I, unlike Townsend, am not up to some underhand scheme.”

Fox ambled over to Philly and pawed at her leg. In response, she picked him up and settled him on her lap. “Sara’s an uneducated housemaid of barely eighteen. She wouldn’t have understood such subtleties.”

“And you’d treat this uneducated housemaid no differently than one of your injured dogs. But she isn’t one of your pets to be cared for and brought back to health, Philly. She’s a maid from Townsend’s own house. Her loyalty may still lie with him.”

“You weren’t so suspicious of William.”

“On more than one occasion, William risked his position to help you. While this maid showed devotion to no one but your uncle.”

“But, Arthur—”

“Have her sent to me. I promise not to terrify her unnecessarily, but I would judge her sad tale for myself. When I’ve done with her, you may feed her and coddle her to your heart’s content, and if I determine all is not as it seems, I’ll personally see to her passage on a return coach to London.”

Arthur looked across his desk at the sharp-faced little maid who had so plagued him in London. She was indeed as pitiful to behold as Philly had said, and yet…he couldn’t fail to notice her upraised chin and the acquisitive glint in her eye. She might be somewhat worse for wear, but she was a long way from being overcome by her miserable circumstances.

“Why on Sunday?” he asked, already suspecting the answer. “Why not on Friday? Or Saturday?”

Sara’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Mrs. Vale paid me no mind until His Grace’s visit on Saturday. If they all hadn’t ended up so angry, I expect they’d have kept me on, but cook said they must blame someone for Miss Satterthwaite’s leaving, and it might as well be me.”

Arthur toyed with a newly sharpened quill pen. “You were called before the Duke of Moreland?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And?”

She wrung her hands in her lap. “Mr. Townsend and Mrs. Vale asked me all manner of questions, but I can’t see why they bothered, for they didn’t believe anything I told them.”

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth, sir.” She looked anguished. “That you were the gentleman Miss Satterthwaite met in the park.”

He raised a brow. “Hadn’t you told them as much already?”

“No, sir. I only told Mrs. Vale that…that Miss Satterthwaite was often importuned by gentlemen on her walks.”

“But when Townsend and Mrs. Vale questioned you on Saturday, you confessed all.”

She nodded. “I told them we’d met you twice in the park, and that I fancied Miss Satterthwaite was arranging to meet you again.”

“I take it they weren’t pleased with this information.”