Page 11 of Mirrors of the Past

‘Excuse me?’ Viola frowned. ‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Just asking.’ Laurie shrugged and removed Marigold’s fingers from his mouth.

But she couldn’t help it — she found she needed to justify herself. ‘My brother, Sam, got to know him as well and gave him the address we’re at over here. Not that it’s any of your business. Sam liked him. Said he seemed as if he adored me and would promise me the world.’ She pulled a face again. Viola was not the sort of woman to put up with any soft soap. Émile had been awfully sweet, really, but she knew she’d soon become bored of him following her around with his puppy-dog eyes. Friendship was as much as she was willing to offer him and if he wasn’t happy with that, well . . . it was better to cut their losses right now.

‘Poor fool,’ muttered Laurie.

‘Adoration is overrated,’ said Elsie cheerfully. ‘I mean I know Louis adores me and I adore him, but . . .’

Louis laughed and ruffled her hair. ‘But we know when to stop adoring one another and when to answer one another back,’ he said.

‘Correct.’ Elsie nodded enthusiastically. Then she cast her eyes over the assembled company. ‘Very correct,’ she repeated quietly, and a small, secret smile played around her lips. Viola wasn’t entirely sure she liked where Elsie’s thought process was going — because Viola’s suspicions were written all over Elsie’s pretty face . . .

There was only one thing she could say.

‘Ugh.’

Elsie was not going to play matchmaker between her, Viola Arthur, and that awful man, Laurie Teague — Elsie’s very definitely “vile sibling”.

‘Well.’ Viola stood up and brushed some stray blades of grass — and more dried mud, it seemed, transferred from Marigold’s feet — from her skirt. ‘I must be going. Goodbye for now, Marigold. It was wunnerful to see you.’

Marigold giggled and blew her a kiss. ‘Wunnerful,’ she parroted.

Then Elsie stood up, and Louis was, of course, already on his feet, but Laurie, with Marigold clutched firmly on his lap, remained seated. He did make an awkward move to begin to stand up — more out of innate manners than a particular desire to stand and acknowledge Viola, she knew — but she turned smartly on her heel and began to walk off towards the door before he could fully struggle to his feet.

Ugh. If she never saw that man again, it would be too soon.