The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,7
House. She understood that he was too busy to be bothered about her but she wished it had been otherwise. For years Amity dreamed that he would return and rescue her from her bleak existence. A knight on a ferocious, white charger saving the damsel in distress.
Amity snorted at her ridiculous fancies and felt a return of the nervous flutter in the region of her stomach at the thought of her journey's end. She listened to the rhythm of the carriage horses, fearful that one of the beasts might be going lame, but the noble cattle drew her towards her new home and a guardian she had only seen once.
"Come on, Muffin, you lazy slug. Wake up," Amity muttered, elbowing her companion. When this tactic had little effect, she leaned over and whispered. "I'll help you look for cats. And maybe even a rabbit."
Thus tempted, Amity's companion, an enormous brown dog of unknown and highly suspect origin yawned, his great tongue arching upward between neat rows of white teeth. He stretched all four legs and emitted a low rumbling moan before he turned his head toward his mistress. Muffin's eyelids raised and he stared at Amity through soulful pools of brown.
"What a lump you are," Amity said as she hugged her friend, nuzzling one floppy ear. "Ever since we got in the coach this morning you've been sleeping. Besides we're almost there. Coachman said it would be another half hour."
Thus reminded of their imminent arrival, Amity bit her lip, feeling the jolt of her accelerated heartbeat. She pushed the huge dog off her lap and brushed at the clumps of dog hair left behind. Then reaching up, she untied the blue ribbon that confined her hair at the nape of her neck. As usual a cloud of the bright red curls had escaped and were billowing around her cheeks. She raked her fingers through the shimmering mass of waist-length hair and retied the ribbon.
"My reticule! My gloves!" she wailed, searching the carriage.
She found the reticule at last beneath the plain poke bonnet, which she jammed on her head, but after a hurried hunt, could not find her mittens. She remembered removing them at the last stop and accepted the sad fact that she would have to arrive at her destination with bare hands. The reticule was dusty and she grasped the strings and smacked it against the squabs sending up clouds of dust. Muffin inhaled and sneezed so heartily that the movement propelled the dog upright, where he sat, eyes wide open and black nose aquiver. When Amity giggled at the dog's expression, he looked so offended that she burst into a loud whoop of laughter. Thus Amity and Muffin arrived at Edgeworth.
When the liveried footman pulled down the stairs and opened the door, he was confronted by the laughing countenance of a redheaded girl and a low growl from her companion. He backed away, bowing as he said, "Welcome to Edgeworth, Miss Fraser."
From a safe distance, the footman surveyed the young lady. Told to expect Lord Kampford's ward, he had been picturing a small child not this young woman. There was still a hint of youthful awkwardness in her movements, but like a young colt, thoroughbred lines were apparent. Her body was tall and slight but rounded to a nicety; her hands and feet were small and elegant. She wore a carriage dress and matching cape in a muted blue color that was well made and sensible rather than the height of fashion.
The young footman extended his hand but the young lady bounded out of the coach without assistance. Her freckled face was still flushed with laughter and her white teeth flashed in an open smile that quite won the heart of the boy.
"Thank you for the greeting. I'm so glad to be here at last," Amity said, her voice still bubbling with amusement. Then with a swirl of cape she turned back to the coach to fetch her friend. "Out, Muffin."
The dog remained upright on the seat, looking in no hurry to leave the comfortable confines of the carriage for unknown, and possibly unwelcome, surroundings.
"Come on, you great looby," Amity hissed, glancing in embarrassment at the footman. In explanation, she said, "Muffin is rather shy, uh... ."
"Peter, Miss," the boy answered bobbing his head in greeting. "It takes some that way. Would you like me to fetch him?"
Since Muffin had begun to growl again, there was a slight hesitancy in the footman's voice. Catching his less than eager