The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,11
the end of the evening, I have a pounding headache." Amity sat at the mirrored vanity and caught the disapproving expression of her new abigail. Coaxingly, she added, "I promise you can concoct some fanciful creation at another time."
The girl's frown disappeared and she brushed the long swath of hair until the red curls shone in the candlelight. "I have ever so many ideas, miss," Emily said. "You have beautiful hair, but it could use a might of trimming."
"This time I know you're right," Amity said laughing. "I've not been in society and so there's never been a need. This is just an informal dinner so I'm sure no one will mind if my hair is undressed."
"The sash looks right perky." Emily's voice sounded as though she felt her new mistress needed encouragement.
After a cursory glance in the mirror, Amity stood up and shook out her skirt, searching the material for stray dog hairs. She had always liked the plaid dress; it was warm and comfortable. It had been perfect at Beech House with its long cold corridors and drafty rooms. Granted it was several years out of date but then she had never cared that much about the current fashions. For the moment, it would have to suffice. She knew her hair was neatly brushed and her face was scrubbed clean. She suspected that due to her nervous state, her skin was paler tonight so that the freckles would stand out even more than normal. Shrugging, she turned to the dog sprawled in front of the door.
"Come on, Muffin," Amity said. As if annoyed, the dog pushed himself upright, his tail wagging in triumph at his accomplishment. He pressed his head against her knee, and Amity reached down to rub his neck. "Well, old friend, we don't want to make a bad impression by being late."
Thanking Emily for all her help, Amity opened the door and started out into the hall. Although Muffin swung his head to follow her movements, the rest of his body remained rooted to the floor. Returning, Amity grasped a handful of hair at his neck and kneed him toward the hall. Soulful brown eyes lifted to her face and then, accepting the inevitable, the dog padded beside her toward the stairs. Peter, the helpful footman, was on duty in the foyer and he indicated the double doors to the yellow salon. Two other footmen threw open the doors and Amity braced herself, her hand tight in Muffin’s fur for support.
When the doors opened, Max thought for a moment that he had been transported back in time. Framed by the carved lintel, Amity looked like an ancient warrior queen, her hand resting on some noble beast. Crystal blue eyes, flashing with courage and intelligence, shone out of her white face. Burnished curls crowned her raised head and fell in a cascade down her back. Max blinked and the magical vision was gone.
The girl hesitated in the doorway, her sparkling eyes flashing around the room in curiosity. Max was amazed that this was the same girl he had seen eleven years ago. His ward was not the pink and white debutante so much in fashion; she was a far more exotic creature. Her skin was too pale, her hair too red. Her mouth was too generous and her eyes too large. Each feature was discordant but together they blended in a harmony of perfection. He wondered what had happened to the scrawny, clumsy child.
Max coughed to remind the girl of her duty. She lowered her eyes and came to stand in front of him. He was surprised at her height; somehow he had expected she would be tiny. The top of her head came above his shoulder and he was six foot tall. He coughed once more and she extended her hand, dropping into a curtsy. As Max bowed over her hand, she bobbed back up, her head crashing into his chin with a jolt that rattled every tooth in his head.
"Blast!" Amity said, blinking through the tears of pain as she held the sides of her head. Looking up through her blurred vision she saw the pained look on the face of her guardian. And she had so wanted to make a good impression. Suddenly she was overcome by the humor of the situation.
As the pain of the blow began to wear off, Max glared at the clumsy girl. She had changed little since last he saw her. Visions of endless broken vases and knocked