Page 19 of His One and Only Lady

His aunt’s keen gaze shifted between him, Miss Sommerville, and Purity—lingering a disconcerting moment on her loose curls—before focusing on her nephew again.

She gave a brief nod and turned to her companions. “My dears, please make your way to the yellow salon. I’ll be along in a trice. We must plan the theatrical performance for two Saturdays hence. It shall be the best yet, I promise you.”

The women glided away, their heads together and no doubt speculating on the peculiar exchange in the salon. Purity had never before been the object of tongue-wagging, and it was not to her liking at all.

The countess took two steps away from the salon and then half-turned.

“Forsythia took Bernadine to the nursery, Theran. One of the maids I hired for the house party saw that she ate her mid-day meal and has tucked her into bed for a nap.” She smiled, her kindly eyes twinkling. “She has decided that she must have a Dalmatian puppy for her birthday, Nephew, so prepare yourself.”

“Thank you. I shall check on her shortly.” Mr. Rutland’s countenance spared no tenderness or sympathy for Miss Sommerville, who had become positively wan.

In truth, she looked rather sick, like she might cast up her accounts as she fidgeted with the pearls at her neck.

Running her fingers along the edge of her hand-painted fan, Lady Mumford shook her head. “I almost forgot. Miss Mayfield, the Ceddes returned moments ago. Lady Ceddes requires you to attend to the children at once. They are in the nursery.”

They were early.

Had something happened?

Nodding, Purity made for the entrance. “I shall go up at once.”

“There was an unpleasant incident with a goat, I believe,” the Countess of Mumford said as she stepped aside for Purity to pass.

As Purity strode swiftly down the passageway—eager to put as much distance between herself and Mr. Rutland—his melodic baritone stretched into the hallway. “I no longer wish for you to act as Bernadine’s governess.”

The rest of what he said was muffled by hurried footsteps and the rustling of yards of fabric behind her.

“Miss Mayfield. Please wait a moment.”

Purity stopped and turned around.

“My lady?”

Breathing heavily from rushing, Lady Mumford laid a beringed hand on Purity’s forearm. “I do not know what you said to my nephew to cause him to dismiss that woman, but you have my profound thanks.”

Of its own volition, Purity’s attention gravitated to the almost closed door.

Somewhat startled at the vehemence of her hostess’s declaration or that the countess would confide in a servant, Purity scrambled for an appropriate response.

“I but told him the truth, my lady.”

Mr. Rutland would have to inform his aunt of the details if he wanted her to know them. Particularly after he’d all but called her a tattlemonger and liar.

“Well done, you.” Beaming in approval, her ladyship patted Purity’s arm. “I’ve always admired honesty. It is a true test of a person’s character.” She gave a sage nod, sending the feathers in her coiffeur bouncing. “The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.”

Purity smiled. “Proverbs twelve, I believe.”

“Exactly so.” Lady Mumford gave Purity an assessing look. “I should like to have a long chat with you during your stay, Miss Mayfield. Perhaps one day next week? After things have calmed a bit. The first week is always a frenzy.”

Purity liked the Countess of Mumford. She was as genuine and kind a person as she’d ever met.

“Of course, my lady. If I can find time to leave my charges. This house party is a last hurrah, if you will, before they are off to school, so my duties are a bit uncertain.”

“You leave that to me, my dear.” A rather cunning smile wreathing her face, Lady Mumford bobbed her head again.

They parted ways, and Purity had the distinct impression she’d passed some sort of test.

Mulling over the emotional swings of the past several minutes, she hurried up the first floor and was about to ascend the next when Miss Sommerville made the first landing.