The Taming of Victoria Colton

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

The fast young lady deals largely in epithets: “Idiot, dolt, wretch, humbug,” drop from her lips; but the prude and her friend the bluestocking permit themselves to use conventional phrases only; their notion of conversation is that it be instructive, and, at the same time, mystifying.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

Day 5: Reprieve

“Lord Sinclair, I simply cannot tolerate it any longer!” Mrs Eliza Littleford blithered furiously, wagging a finger under Henry Sinclair’s nose. “That girl is a public menace!”

Henry impassively studied the aged woman before him. Eliza Littleford did indeed look remarkably harassed. Her greying hair stuck out at odd angles, the front of her bodice was stained with a dark liquid and there was a smear of butter, cream and strawberry jam along one arm. A pinched look of disdain wrinkled her old face.

He sighed wearily and steepled his fingers while he rested his elbows on the desk in his study, casting an exasperated look to his grandson who watched over the proceedings indifferently.

“Mrs Littleford-”

“She,” Mrs Littleford spat, eyes flashing with odium, “is completely unmanageable! How she has remained functioning within society is beyond me!”

“Mrs Littleford-”

“I quit!” she raged on. “Quit! There is no help for a silly girl like that! Do you mark me well? I quit, Lord Sinclair, and happily do I inform you that your ward is completely unmarriageable! No man sane enough in all of England would consent to bind himself to a-a-a hooligan like Miss Victoria Colton!”

Henry frowned impatiently. “Mrs Littleford, what exactly has Victoria done?”

The older woman threw up her hands, maddened, and stomped around in a right wrath. “What didn’t she do!” Mrs Littleford seethed. “That little chit doesn’t have a modest bone in her body. Oh, let me tell you, I tried! Oh, I tried! But the devious little minx persisted in vexing me to the extent I thought I might swoon!”

A strangled sound came from the brooding man opposite Henry.

“I apologise profusely, Mrs Littleford, but-”

  “I do not want your apology, Lord Sinclair,” Mrs Littleford snapped irately. “I want my payment, in full, and a letter of recommendation, as promised, and dissolution of our contract without any implications holding me liable.”

Knowing the extent that Victoria could drive a person insane, Henry didn’t feel inclined to argue with the old woman. It would be amply simpler and wiser on his part just to pay the woman her dues and send her on her way rather than drag the issue out. He supposed he should be grateful that the deportment instructor managed to tutor his belligerent ward for a whole four days. It was more than what he or Delores could manage on their own.

He extracted a pen and parchment from a corner on his desk and began to scribe the letter of recommendation as he murmured, “Gabriel, find Victoria and bring her here.”

Gabriel stiffened and mentally balked at the thought of encountering Victoria today. In fact, he had hoped to avoid her completely, the bitterness she had evoked in him the night before still an aggravatingly fresh memory this morning. However, this new development faintly amused him and he could probably taunt her mercilessly for it before she clawed into him about his behaviour the evening beforehand.