Page 152 of Harpy of the Ton
“Good.” Bella’s aunt wrinkled her nose as she spotted the discarded gown. “Get rid ofthat,” she said. “And anything else my niece had about her person.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bella fisted the ribbon and placed it behind her back. Connie moved to stand behind her then took her hand, coaxing it open with her slim fingers. Bella’s heart ached at the betrayal—but what had she ever done to earn her maid’s loyalty?
“Show me your hands, Arabella,” her aunt said.
Connie snatched the ribbon, and Bella waited for the axe to fall.
“Well?” Aunt Kathleen stepped closer, and Bella held out her hands. “Palmsup, if your please.”
Bella turned her hands, and her aunt let out a snort.
“I feared as much. You’ve the hands of a commoner. We must ensure Dunton never has to look at them.” She gestured to Connie. “Girl, find some gloves for your mistress.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very good. Finish your duties, then go.”
The maid bustled about the chamber, tidying the bed, then she slipped her hand beneath a pillow. Bella caught sight of a flash of pink ribbon as Connie met her gaze and gave her a quick, tight smile. Then the maid resumed her attention on the bed, smoothing the sheets, after which she bobbed a curtsey and left.
As soon as she’d gone, Aunt Kathleen raised her arm and backhanded Bella across the face.
Bella let out a cry at the sting of pain. She stumbled back and rubbed her cheek. “Aunt…”
“Silence, you slut!”
“Whatdid you call me?”
“You heard! Do you have any idea the damage you’ve caused our family name—the name of Ponsford?”
“It’s not even your name, Aunt. You’re Lady Smith-Green—or, at least, that’s what you want the world to know. Much better than plain old Mrs. Green, isn’t it?”
“Why, you little…” She rounded on her niece again, but Bella stood firm.
“Go on, Aunt,” she said. “I dare you. But what would it do to the Ponsford name if I turned up to dinner with a marked face? Would Dunton still want me?”
“Youshould be more concerned about that than me, girl.”
“It seems as if the prospect of being the aunt of a duchess is of more value to you than the prospect of being a duchess will ever be for me,” Bella sneered.
“Ungrateful child! To think, all I have sacrificed for you.”
“What sacrifice, Aunt?” Bella asked. “It was my fortune that paid for everything—the house in London, even the gown you’re wearing now.”
“Your fortune will mean nothing if the world learns of your ruination.”
“What ruination?”
“You may have fooled Dunton, but I’m not so out of my wits that I cannot recognize a whore when I see one.”
“Will you be so bold as to call me a whore when I’m a duchess?” Bella said. “I could have you thrown out in a heartbeat. Best pack your things—I’llbe mistress of this house in three weeks.”
“Oh no you won’t, girl. I’ve persuaded the duke to wait.”
Bella suppressed the joy at the notion of delaying her condemnation to a life with Dunton. “What for?” she asked.
“Evenyoumust understand the necessity of a delay.”
