Free Venetia by Georgette Heyer Page A

relaxed its expression of uncompromising severity. Her opinion of Damerel’s morals, and her conviction that his end would be a lesson to other sinners, remained unchanged, but she was to some degree mollified by the discovery that he had ordered Mrs. Imber not only to make up a bed for her in the dressing-room, but to obey whatever injunctions she might see fit to lay upon her. Furthermore, his valet was not, as might have been supposed, a saucy jackanapes, but a very respectable man who had behaved with great civility to her, deferring to her superior judgment, and begging, as a favour, to be allowed to share with her the duties of waiting on the invalid. It appeared that Nurse had graciously conferred this honour upon him, but whether she had done so because she was won over by his tact, or because she knew that Aubrey would strenuously resist any attempt to reduce him to nursery status, remained undisclosed. She was representing to Venetia in persuasive terms how unnecessary it was for her to remain at the Priory another instant when Aubrey woke up, rather cross, and complaining that he was hot, thirsty, and uncomfortable. Nurse thought this an excellent opportunity to change Damerel’s contaminating nightshirt for one of his own, so she summoned Marston to her assistance, and was pretty well occupied when Damerel walked into the room to invite Venetia to partake of dinner in his company. Before Nurse had grasped the scandalous nature of his errand the invitation had been accepted, and Damerel was bowing Venetia out of the room.
    “Thank you!” Venetia said, as he shut the door. “You came in at precisely the right moment, you know, when poor Nurse was too much taken up with scolding Aubrey for being so tiresome to think what I might be doing!”
    “Yes, I didn’t think I should clear that fence without a check,” he agreed. “Would you have attended to her protests?”
    “No, but she is being strongly moved by the spirit, and the chances are it would have moved her to say something impolite to you, which would have covered me with mortification.”
    “Oh, don’t let that trouble you!” he said, laughing. ‘Only tell me how I should address her!”
    “Well, we have always called her Nurse.”
    “No doubt! But it won’t do for me to copy you. What is her name?”
    “Priddy. The underservants call her Mrs. Priddy, though I can’t think why, for she has never been married.”
    “Mrs. Priddy she shall be. You won’t tell me I rank above the underservants in her esteem!” An irrepressible chuckle made him glance down at her; he saw the brimming merriment in her eyes, and demanded: “Now what? Do I rank above them?”
    “I don’t think so , ”she answered cautiously. “At least, I never heard her say, even of the laundrymaid, that she would be eaten by frogs!”
    He gave a shout of laughter. “Good God, does that fate await me?”
    Encouraged by the discovery that he shared her enjoyment of the absurd she laughed back at him, saying: “Yes, and also that your increase will be delivered to the caterpillar.”
    “Oh, I’ve no objection to that! The caterpillar is welcome to my increase!”
    “No, how can you be so unnatural? Increase must mean your children!”
    “Undoubtedly! Any side-slips of mine the caterpillar may have with my good-will,” he retorted.
    “Poor little things!” she said, adding thoughtfully, after a moment: “Not that it is at all easy to perceive what harm one caterpillar could do them.”
    “Do you know that you are a very strange girl?” he asked abruptly.
    “Why? Have I said something I ought not?” she said rather anxiously.
    “On the contrary: I’m afraid it was I who did that.”
    “Did you?” She wrinkled her brow. “Side-slips? Well, that was quite my fault for mentioning your children at all, when I know you are not married. Have you — No.”
    His lips twitched, but he said gravely: “Not to my knowledge.”
    That drew a responsive twinkle from her.