The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,40
the butler's praise. "I know I shouldn't 'ave brought it into the 'ouse. Some of them in the kitchen 'adn't seen any of the little fellows and I was just showing this one off. I set 'im down on the floor and the bloody thing bolted right between me legs."
"No harm done," Putnam said, his face disapproving as he eyed the broken vase on the floor. "Praise God, it was not a family heirloom. All right then, get back to your duties. In future, Emily, we shall have no more caterwauling."
"It's sorry, I am, Mr. Putnam," the parlor maid said, wringing her apron. "I thought it was an enormous rat."
"What on earth would a rat be doing in his lordship's house?" The butler sounded aghast at the mere suggestion and without another word, the shame-faced maid vanished down the hallway toward the kitchen. "A rat indeed!" Putnam snorted as he turned to his wife.
Mrs. Putnam was placing the last of the shards of pottery in the cradle of her apron. She gave the floor one last swipe with the broom and then spoke to Putnam while her eyes circled the foyer to establish the fact that all was returned to normal.
"You better put a bee in Miss Amity's ear, love," she said, folding the apron over the remains of the vase and clutching it to her ample bosom. She hoisted the broom to her shoulder in military precision, where it rested looking incongruous against the lace cap that topped her steel grey hair.
"I'll speak to her the very moment she comes in, cupcake." Putnam's tone was a combination of a wheedle and a leer which, coupled with the unexpected endearment, almost sent the voyeur on the balcony into convulsions. Max eased himself back into the shadow of the wall, unwilling to be caught eavesdropping, yet reluctant to miss the end of the scene.
"She'll have to send one of her soldiers," the woman continued. "The garden storeroom is getting a dash crowded since the old sow had twelve in the litter. Besides which the goat has eaten the stuffing out of one of the chairs that was stored there."
"Never mind, mother," Putnam said, patting his wife on her well padded bottom. "I'll take care of it."
"See that you do," Mrs. Putnam said with a sniff that turned into a giggle as she hurried across the foyer.
Max slipped around the corner and, walking quietly, returned to the comforting silence of the library. He dropped into the leather chair and placed the forgotten book on the ornate Chinese table at his elbow. A chuckle of amusement escaped him as he replayed the scene in his mind. He wondered if he would ever be able to look Mrs. Putnam in the eye without thinking of her as "cupcake" and disgracing himself by laughing.
Although the entire episode had been most entertaining, he was aware that he was far from enlightened over the meaning of it all. There was obviously something havey-cavey going on in his household and the intriguing Miss Amity Fraser seemed to be at the very center of the conspiracy. He rested his head against the cool leather headrest, his face screwed into a frown of concentration.
Questions whirled in his mind. What was a piglet doing in the front hall? And had a sow littered in the garden storeroom? Had Mrs. Putnam mentioned a goat? What did she mean by the reference to Amity's soldier? And why in tarnation did the whole group of servants seem to be involved in something bizarre and yet treat it as an everyday occurrence?
"Blast the girl!" Max muttered. "What form of mischief is she up to now?"
He remembered that Amity had asked his permission to use the storeroom that attached to the garden shed but for the life of him he could not recall her mentioning any specific purpose. She had also asked for an increase in her allowance and he wondered if she were purchasing the livestock. But for what purpose?
In the two months since he had first taken on the personal responsibility for his ward, the chit had put paid to his quiet bachelor existence. His well-run household was a shambles and his own personal affairs were disrupted. He had assumed when he invited her to London, he would be little aware of her presence in the spacious townhouse. After all, the girl had a chaperone and a full schedule of activities. Other than an occasional dinner together and squiring her to various social functions,