The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,71

house and once the reasoning was explained to me, I concurred with the decision with heart whole."

Muffin made a snuffling sound in his sleep and Amity leaned over to stroke his fur. Frowning, she stared down at the friend of her childhood, wondering how she could have survived her lonely years without his presence. It was apparent that if she wished to marry Bancroft, she would be forced to give up the companionship of her dog. At that realization the lines in her forehead smoothed out and when she raised her head, her face was serene. She folded her hands in her lap as the silence lengthened around her.

"My dog is neither filthy nor a carrier of any disease. I have always kept him in the house near to me," she said quietly. She stared up at Bancroft, her words clearly issuing a challenge.

He cleared his throat, his glance shifting to his sister who sat like some carved image of the God of Wrath. He studied her mouth, pinched in condemnation, and her eyes, dark with purpose, then his eyes swung back to Amity and there was a deep sadness within their depths. "I am sure he is a noble animal, my dear, but his place is not in the house. I am very sorry."

No one moved in the room and in the quiet his words took on a more doleful significance. Amity's blue eyes glittered as she studied the man who had asked for her hand. Then with a brisk nod of her head, she spoke.

"I am very sorry too," she said. Straightening her shoulders, she turned to Ophelia and held out her hand in a graceful gesture. "Thank you so much for coming today, Lady Paige. It was a pleasure getting to know you better. I know you will have other calls to make, so we shall not keep you. Perhaps we shall run into each other at another time."

Ophelia blinked her eyes several times in her surprise as Amity helped her to her feet. They faced each other and their eyes acknowledged what neither of them wished put into words. A glimmer of satisfaction flitted across the older woman's face, quickly replaced by her usual disapproving frown. She reached out for her brother's arm and in a calm voice said her good days. With the clearly bewildered Bancroft in toe, Ophelia sailed into the hall.

The salon doors closed and Amity dropped once more onto the settee, contemplating the calamitous events of the tea party. She could not believe that so much had gone wrong. Even before Ginger made her unexpected appearance, it was apparent that Ophelia was not thrilled by her brother's choice of a bride. And Max's behavior had done nothing but exacerbate an already difficult situation. She raised her eyes to her guardian who was leaning against the mantelpiece. He shuttered his eyes but not before she surprised a look of satisfaction within the green depths.

"Well," Hester said. "This has been a most interesting affair."

Unused to Lady Grassmere offering any comment both Amity and Max were surprised at the woman's statement. Normally the little chaperone sat in the room but rarely ventured an opinion so that now they both sat at attention as if waiting for an oracle to offer some enlightening prediction.

"A very tiresome woman, Ophelia Paige," Hester continued. "I do find her presence quite overpowering. Even as a child, she was a great trial to her mother. It is no wonder she has never married."

"I didn't realize you did not care for Ophelia," Amity said.

"She's always been a bit high in the instep for my taste. Your sharp tongue would have been quite wasted on Bancroft, my dear," Hester said, smiling across at Amity. "Like his sister, he has little humor."

"You don't mind that I will not be marrying Bancroft?" Amity asked in surprise.

"Quite to the contrary. He was not the person I had in mind at all," Hester said. "I was surprised that the situation had gotten so far out of hand. It seemed for a time that I might have to speak to your guardian. Thankfully this extreme measure was not necessary."

Much to Amity's bewilderment, Max threw back his head in a great shout of laughter. His green eyes sparkled as he traded intelligence with the old woman in grey.

Lady Grassmere smiled at the handsome man. He had always been her favorite. With precision she folded her needlework. "You always were an inventive lad, Maxwell. My concern was that you left