The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,50

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.

Chapter Nine

"Some punch, Honoria?" Max asked as they strolled off the dance floor.

"That would be splendid," she admitted, waving her fan before her face. "I must admit that it is warm in here this evening. You would think Theresa would know better than to have such a squeeze this late in the season."

After a glass of punch, they wandered around talking to friends until they reached the open doors to the terrace. By mutual consent they stepped outside where the temperature was somewhat cooler. Max inhaled deeply, refreshed by the clean air, not heavy with the scent of mingling perfume as the stale atmosphere inside.

"You must feel quite carefree this evening. Where are Lady Grassmere and your little ward?"

It amused Max that Honoria had taken to calling Amity his "little" ward, since the girl was a good head taller than she. When he had arranged for Honoria to mentor Amity he had hoped that they would become good friends. He still did not understand quite what had gone wrong in their relationship but he suspected that neither woman liked the other. In his presence there had been nothing except the most polite of exchanges, however the general lack of warmth and intimacy between them convinced him of the true state of their feelings.

In truth, Amity had never said an unkind word about Honoria. Granted she had not been fulsome in her praises and that was a fair indication of the extent of her friendship with the older woman. Amity was nothing if not enthusiastic about her friends and was more inclined to discuss her relationship with her abigail Betta than any commerce she had with Honoria.

"Cousin Hester was feeling unwell and Amity thought they might both benefit from an evening at home," Max replied. "I have been pleased that her come out has been such a success."

"Yes, most have accepted her without question, thanks to your sponsorship of the child. I saw her last night at the Duchess of Landglower's affair. Amity looked quite charming."

"She has gained some sophistication since her arrival in London, my dear," Max said, his eyes alight with pleasure. “I owe much of this polish to your credit for being such an example of the ideal in feminine perfection."

"Why thank you, Max," Honoria said, fluttering her eyes above her fan. "I have, of course, tried to help the sweet child where I could. One can see the enormous amount of money she has spent on her wardrobe