Read The Mysterious Governess (Daughters of Sin Book 3) for Free Online Page B

he would,” she muttered. “Better still, I wish you’d marry him. There! That would be poetic justice when you’ve set your cap at his wicked, dashing uncle.”
    “What? Lord Debenham?” Araminta laughed, despite the discomfort that rippled through her. She’d caught Lord Debenham’s eye the first night she’d danced at Lady Knox’s ball, and the knowledge that he found her attractive had put steel into her spine and fired her with the conviction that here was a likely catch. Then she’d been favored by his attention at Lady Stanley’s ball a few nights previously. Lord Debenham was dashing, in a lean, spare and dangerous way, titled with expectations, and he was handsome. What more could an aspiring debutante want?
    When she’d made mention of his lordship’s interest during a few minutes in the mending room in the hopes of soothing the mood of a certain woebegone Miss Hoskings—who, with the face of a roly-poly pudding and a body to match, would be lucky to catch a bald eagle—the response had been far from expected.
    Apparently Lord Debenham “did things”, according to the wide-eyed Miss Hoskings. The young lady’s patent horror at the mention of Lord Debenham’s name had been followed by the whispered admonition that her very own aunt had been ruined by the gentleman, who did not deserve the moniker, and now it was a crime in the household to even speak her aunt’s name.
    At first, Araminta had been skeptical, since surely any relative of Miss Hoskings could not rival a sprouting potato in looks. Then Miss Hoskings had risen from the chaise longue and declared in rather dramatic tones, “Five years ago, my aunt was tipped to marry the Marquis of Donley, she was so beautiful. But Mr. Carruthers, as he was then, before he became Lord Debenham, ruined her.”
    “Obviously, your aunt was very silly and careless with her reputation,” Araminta had replied, earning a predictable glare and then the rather uncomfortable response. “I’m not supposed to know this, but they were going to elope and she’d gone to the inn where they’d agreed to meet and set off,” Miss Hoskings had paused, looking first uncertain, then shifty, before whispering in a rush, “the next day! While she was waiting, Lord Debenham remembered something important and went off to fetch it, only he suffered a delay of some hours and in the meantime, her father caught up with her... tied to the bedposts!”
    Araminta could not hide her horror. She’d heard that Miss Hoskings was prone to the vapors and that she spent a great deal of time in the ladies’ mending room during these entertainments. Araminta wondered if spouting tall tales about gentlemen who’d spurned her or family members was an antidote to the inevitability of sitting out most dances as a wilting wallflower. Araminta sniffed and adopted her most haughty tone. “It might have been wise for your aunt to have thought more carefully about the potential damage to her good name if she was so easily compromised.”
    Still, it was a salutary tale, though Araminta wondered—if it were true—why Miss Hoskings was the one banished to the country, never to be heard of again, and Lord Debenham had gone on to make his fortune and to cut quite a dash in the fashionable world.
    Nevertheless, Lord Debenham’s lack of regard was enough to make Araminta think twice about courting His Lordship’s interest. A girl had to be strategic. Perhaps the very handsome and rather enigmatic Sir Aubrey was a better bet, despite the rumors flying around of some kind of scandal attached to him. But as he was still received, that was really all that mattered.
    Hetty, having tied her garter then straightened her dress and bonnet, hesitated in the doorway. “You think you can charm the birds from the trees, Araminta, and maybe you can, but mark my words, you’re going to land in a bramble bush,” she said softly. “I predict that by the end of the season you’ll be marrying either Mr.