Page 61 of Harpy of the Ton
She glanced at the list. Heavens—there were more than ten items!
How would she even begin?
Chapter Twenty-One
Acart approachedfrom behind and Lawrence tightened his grip on Jonathan’s hand. His youngest child always had a tendency to spot danger, which would have been a quality to celebrate if he didn’t always veer toward it with enthusiasm.
Enthusiasticwas how Lawrence justified the boy’s behavior to the schoolmistress. Though Mrs. Chantry, who looked down her long nose at his family, preferred to saydisruptive.
The cart rolled by, and the wheel hit a puddle, splattering Jonathan’s breeches. The boy stopped to wipe himself, smearing mud over the material.
“You look like a mud pie!” William cried.
“He won’t have to wash his breeches,” Roberta said. “Not now the woman’s here.”
“Roberta, I’ve told you before—you must call her Mama,” Lawrence said.
“Is she our mama?” Jonathan asked.
“She is while she’s staying with us,” Lawrence said. “She’s to keep house, clean, and cook for us. That’s what mothers do.”
“That’s not what Tommie’s mother does,” Roberta said. “Mrs. Chantry says she entertains men. She says she’s a—”
“I don’tcarewhat Mrs. Chantry says!” Jonathan cried. “I like Tommie. He’s nicer thanyou.” He gave Roberta a push.
“Stop that, you little worm!” Roberta said.
Jonathan poked out his tongue. “I don’t like her.”
“You can’t say that about your sister,” William said. “You have to like her, even if she puts frogs in your bed.”
“I meanther.”
“Mrs. Chantry?” Lawrence asked. “You’re not supposed to like your teacher—just learn from her.”
“No.Her.”
Ah, well. He could be forgiven for that. Bella wasn’t exactly likeable—more the opposite.
“How long is she staying with us?” Roberta asked.
Until she’s paid her debt.
“What’s a debt, Papa?” Jonathan asked.
Bugger.He’d said that aloud.
“It’s when you have to pay someone back,” Roberta said.
“Like when Bobby put that spider in my bed,” William said. “I paid her back by stuffing a worm down her shirt. Bobby hates worms.”
“I don’t.”
“You do!” William said. “You screamed and called me a bugger.”
“Bugger!” cried Jonathan.
“Ibegyour pardon, child?” a female voice asked.
