Free Amy Lake by The Earls Wife

at it and pronounced it fit for an angel, and in her heart Claire was also pleased. If Lord Tremayne would persist in treating her like his own private charity case–some poor thing he was willing to marry only because she would provide him an heir–then Claire was determined she would be a very well-dressed charity case. No one was going to look at her and think that the Earl of Ketrick had married beneath him in style.
    Madame Gaultier had been insistent on the subject of nightdresses. Claire protested that she had plenty of habillements and wraps for the bedroom, but the modiste had simply said that she would select the necessary articles for mademoiselle and have them sent directly to Wrensmoor. There would be a number of smaller items sent in as well–slippers, shawls, underthings in ribbon and lace– but mademoiselle was not to concern herself with those, either. The woman was more stubborn than she was, Claire decided, and she gave up all attempts at protest.
    * * * *
    Justin MacKenzie had served the Earl of Ketrick for close to five years and had proved himself to be a reliable and efficient man-of-affairs. Lord Tremayne had not doubted that he would eventually locate Sandrick Rutherford, but even the earl was surprised that it took MacKenzie less than forty-eight hours.
    Sandrick Rutherford currently resides at Cheltdown Manor in the borough of Lewisham, read the note delivered to Edward as he sat down to Thursday’s breakfast. I have been unable as yet to discover whether he also keeps a place in town, but Mr. Rutherford spends a great proportion of his time in country. You will find him there at present. JM
    Reaching Lewisham borough before afternoon would be no great effort for Achilles, and Edward was saddled up and off within the hour.
    * * * *
    Claire watched  from her window as the earl rode off eastwards, towards Belgrave Square. She wondered what had caused him to leave Tremayne House in such a tearing hurry. She wondered if Lady Pamela Sinclair’s home lay anywhere in that direction.
    * * * *
    Later in the day Claire endured a final, exhausting session with Madame Gaultier, after which she and Jody sought refuge in the library. They had just finished a game of piquet when the door swung open and they heard an elderly female voice.
    “Oh, a pox on your fussing, Boggs. I’m quite capable of introducing myself.”      
    A diminutive lady bustled in, followed by the earl’s butler. Claire thought she seemed rather oddly dressed, only discovering later that the gown was in the first stare of fashion for the 1750s. The lady was using a cane, thumping it loudly on the floor with each step.
    “And I suppose this is the brainless little chit that my idiot nephew has decided to marry?”
    Thump, thump went the cane, followed by a stammered reply from Boggs that Claire didn’t catch. Her brother was staring at the butler in amazement, having never before seen the man look anything but imperturbable. Why, his face was actually red.
    Jody had started to stand as the lady–Lord Tremayne’s aunt?–advanced into the room,  but she waved him irritably back down. Claire found herself the subject of close scrutiny by a pair of piercing blue eyes. She gasped as the woman grabbed her chin.
    “Come on gel, open up and show us your teeth. I can see what Edward wants from you– that boy was always led around by what’s in his breeches. If you’ll be breeding every year, you’ll need to be healthy.”                                    
    Fortunately for Claire’s composure, the butler did not hear this, as Boggs had already fled the room. But Jody heard, and her brother was on his feet immediately.
    “Leave my sister alone!”
    “Jody–”
    “And who the devil are you?” asked the lady, brandishing the cane in Jody’s direction. “The chit’s brother, you say?   I didn’t hear about any brother.”      
    That was enough. Claire had not spent several