A Total Want of Propriety (The Gentleman Mr Darcy #8)

Prologue

“Icannot take it any longer,” Whitby said, addressing Bromley when they were left alone at last.

Miss Angela Whitby, an elegant woman in her late thirties, had counted herself as fortunate when she had first been hired as lady’s maid to Miss Caroline Bingley.

She had been born in comfortable circumstances, her father a vicar with a good living in Suffolk.

His sudden and unexpected death had caused her, and her much younger brother with her, to flounder towards desperation.

She had always had a talent for styling hair, a gift for perfect stitches, an ability to learn quickly, and the strength of will and mind to be unafraid of hard labour or the loss of reputation which followed going into service.

When an elderly cousin helped her obtain well-paid employment with Miss Bingley, she had been grateful beyond belief.

With her earnings, along with small contributions made by other ageing relations, she would be able to put Edwin, the child her dear mother had died giving birth to, through school.

They did still have friends; once he took orders, she had no doubt that a living would follow.

Her new position paid extremely well, far better than most.

It did not take long to discover why.

Her new mistress was petulant, selfish, and short-tempered. She was also amongst the nouveau riche, a woman who wished to be respected as though she had been born to good family instead of simply wealth.

Miss Bingley did not treat her so very badly.

Whitby knew the lady had lost too many competent women before her, and since Whitby also knew she was among the best of them, it made sense that Miss Bingley did not want to lose her as well.

Her mistress had even accepted that Whitby’s taste in everything from attire to meal planning was superior to her own, and had come to rely upon her.

However, not all of the lady’s servants were treated so well—hence she went through them like cheap handkerchiefs.

It was galling to be forced to watch the slaps, the sharp retorts, the general disrespect for others emanating from Miss Caroline Bingley.

Whitby had secretly helped more than one hardworking young maid to find a better position.

She would have left immediately, except for Edwin, and only her friendship with Miss Bromley, Louisa Hurst’s woman, made it bearable.

Bromley was a dear, kindly woman, placid and affectionate of temperament, who had helped her adjust as much as possible to her new life.

“What has she done now?” Bromley asked with only mild curiosity.

“It is the hypocrisy,” Whitby replied. “She ordered me to send a note over to invite that nice young woman—Miss Jane Bennet—to dinner. I was, ever so briefly, cheered to think that she would admire and wish to cultivate a friendship with such good company as Miss Bennet provides. So much more elevated than her usual choices—women for whom mean-spirited gossip is the chief entertainment. But almost as soon as the note was sent, she began criticising the girl’s family and nearly everything else about her.

I feel as though I invited the poor girl into a pit of vipers. ”

“I am surprised she invited her to come at all,” Bromley remarked.

“I am not. Her brother has been pressing her to make the invitation. Only after it was written out did I discover that she purposely invited her to come on the night Mr Bingley is dining with the officers. I despise slyness, and Miss Bingley is full of it!”

“How the same parents produced a gentleman so nice and kind as Mr Bingley and his youngest sister is beyond me.”

“He is kind, yes, but he does not pay nearly enough attention to her machinations. I swear, had she been given a few good spankings as a youth, she might not be so impossible now.”

“He is only a year or two her senior,” Bromley reminded. “It is difficult to be master of one’s household when he hardly possesses the years to exert authority.”

Whitby huffed. “If only he had the command his friend possesses, his home would be much more peaceful.”

“Mr Darcy is a force for good, that is certain. I have seen how gently he uses his substantial influence, always trying to help Mr Bingley draw his own conclusions, instead of pressing his own, often wiser ones. ’Tis rare in a gentleman, I say.”

“Miss Bingley would like to sink her hooks into him, but he is far too intelligent to be drawn into flirtation with such as she. Oh, I cannot stand her another moment!”

“You must be patient,” Bromley advised. “Your brother requires it.”

“It will be ten years, at least, before he is established,” Whitby said, sighing.

“I declare, when she blames poor Mrs Nicholls for serving courses late, when it is herself who will suddenly, without warning, alter the time or the menu, I want to toss the soup in her face. I do not know how you have managed to put up with them for these five years or more, when I am ready to quit after one.”

“Well, Mrs Hurst is not near so bad as Miss Bingley. In fact, when she is not spending so much time with her younger sister, she is quite tolerable.”

“Tolerable! Is it tolerable that she nearly dismissed little Rosie without references? Simply because the woman cannot keep track of those bracelets she is always jangling, she must blame others for her own ineptitude.”

“That was a bad business. Thank goodness you and your sharp eyes were here, though! Not only did you find the piece, but you managed to shame her into an apology that Rosie sorely deserved. Do not overlook your role in it. You were given a chance to right a great wrong, and we must assume there will be other such opportunities. You are more clever than I, and quicker to see and act. It is some compensation for the patience you must bring to bear, I would think.”

Whitby sighed again, for Bromley was right on all counts. She could not afford to leave this position, and she was able to do some good at the same time. “I hope you are right,” she said to her friend. “Otherwise, my life is simply a great waste, spent wholly in service to someone unworthy of it.”

Bromley smiled comfortably. “Perhaps the good Lord meant you to be here, at this place and time—not simply for Rosie, but for others as well. He usually knows what He is doing, I have found.”