Page 105 of A Foolish Flirtation

The Tavistocks, who rented the house from Nye, were a very good-humored pair and Emmie had liked them a good deal, though she had secretly been surprised to hear that such an old and respectable pair could be Jeremy’s favorite neighbors. She supposed his smart set of friends were all London-based, but still she felt some confusion.

From the outset he had told her he wanted her to cultivate closer relations with his neighbors and accordingly she had accepted all invitations they had received in the vicinity. So far, they had dined once at the vicarage, and had received invites from The Grange and Benham Hall to sup with the squire and the Needhams respectively.

From what she could discern, this seemed to be the sum total of “county” families in the vicinity. To be honest, Emmie could not remotely see how entertaining these few straggling neighbors would take up a good deal of her time. Yet Jeremy had made it sound like such a large undertaking.

“I’ve asked Mrs. Cheviot to invite the Tavistocks and Reverend Ryland and his wife to dinner one night this week. They are pleasant company, and we must have some society for Mr. Wimble and Mr. Penrose while they are here after all.”

Lottie looked unconvinced. “Miss Blanche Pebmarsh would probably put more of a smile on that dismal architect’s face than that old Miss Tavistock,” she opined.

Emmie laughed. “Jeremy said we should invite the Pebmarshes only after we have first dined with them next week.” She had been introduced to the misses Pebmarsh outside church a couple of weeks previously and privately thought Mr. Wimble would be wildly intimidated by both of them. Miss Delia was hearty and eager with a loud laugh and Miss Blanche was self-assured and rather dismissive.

“Who is calling on you this morning, if I might make so bold?” Lottie asked curiously as she approached the bath with a drying cloth.

Emmie stood up and was promptly enveloped in the wide square of linen. “The Rylands,” she responded, “and then later, Mrs. Needham and her daughter are coming over from Benham Hall.”

Lottie nodded her head knowingly. “Ah yes, Mrs. Needham is an invalid, is she not, poor lady? And her daughter”—Lottie’s face took on a disapproving expression—“a cold, uncaring sort of girl.”

Emmie turned in surprise. “Is that what you’ve heard? Jeremy described Mrs. Needham as perfectly charming and her daughter as pleasant enough, though very reserved.”

Lottie sucked in her cheeks. “It’s not for me to say, but I’ve heard a tale or two from the servants over at the Hall,” she said darkly. “That girl’s got a spiteful streak, make no mistake.”

Emmie’s eyebrows rose. Well, these two sounded a good deal more controversial than the vicar and his wife and the elderly Tavistocks. “I shall certainly be interested to meet them.”

Her visit with Mrs. Ryland should have been a comfortable affair, for this was their third or fourth meeting now, but as she had brought along her husband, things remained on a more formal footing.

Mrs. Ryland was a middle-aged woman of comfortable appearance whose keenest interests were her two sons, her husband, and the good of the parish, in exactly that order. Reverend Ryland was a stern man, tall and stooping. He had a remote, detached air, as though he was always thinking of something else which was far more important than the present. She found it hard to imagine him as a father of two boys.

Emmie elected to meet them in the music room, as the doors opened out onto the terrace, affording them a delightful view of the south lawn as well as letting in a nice breeze on a sunny day such as today. Higgins brought in the tea tray, and they sat and conversed for half an hour or so before the vicar asked if he might be permitted to walk outside and clear his head. He had written a sermon before setting out and his study had been rather stuffy.

“Of course, Reverend Ryland, please take as long as you like. It’s so lovely out there today,” Emmie responded kindly.

“Charles suffers so with his bad heads,” Mrs. Ryland confided, leaning forward.

“What a shame! I expect he has an extensive correspondence to keep up with.”

“Oh yes, he is always most assiduous to his duties.”

Without the vicar’s presence, both ladies relaxed somewhat. Emmie told Mrs. Ryland all about Pinky’s new cottage, and the vicar’s wife promised to go and call herself to welcome the lady into her new home. “We have seen her in church and look forward to having her as an active parishioner. Naturally, you will miss having your friend close at hand,” Mrs. Ryland sympathized. “My unmarried sister moved in with us for six months after my oldest, Clarence, was born. How I missed her when she returned to our father’s house! There is nothing like female companionship for a woman.”

“Yes, it is true. Though I am fortunate in that I will still see a good deal of her.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Ryland mused, “your primary difficulty will be cultivating acquaintance in the vicinity that are not wholly beneath you. We live in a very quiet corner of the world, and I’m afraid there are no comparably grand families in the neighborhood to compare to the Vances. You’ve met the squire, of course, Squire Pebmarsh,” she said thoughtfully. “He is a widower of some sixty years and lives at The Grange with his unmarried daughters, Miss Delia and Miss Blanche Pebmarsh.”

“Oh yes, I have met them, but only briefly. We are going to dine with them next week.”

Mrs. Ryland continued as though she had not spoken. “Now, Delia, the elder, never married and is past prayer for it now. She’s quite hopelessly eccentric and never goes anywhere without a rabble of ill-behaved spaniels.” Emmie nodded, thinking Delia might not be so bad.

“As for Blanche, she’s quite her father’s favorite but terribly unconventional. She’s broken off at least two engagements to my knowledge and spends most of her time in the stables. Not what I would consider ideal company for you, Lady Faris. but there have been Pebmarshes at The Grange since the days of Edward VI. They are a very old and established family in the area.”

“Oh, I am sure,” Emmie murmured obligingly.

“No doubt you will be guest of honor at their dinner party. They’ve always been terribly keen to include Lord Faris in their social sphere, but over the years he has so seldom accepted any invitations to dine with us all.” She shot a strangely speculative look at Emmie. “I believe at one time people did rather wonder if Miss Blanche might not be angling for a third proposal from that quarter…”

“Oh indeed?” Emmie replied politely. “I look forward to getting to know them all.”

Mrs. Ryland looked a little disappointed by her tepid response. “Of course, things are different now, and that is why everyone is so terribly thrilled that you are mingling with us locals. It is such a shame our little circle is not wider for you. Now, let me think, who does that leave? Of course, there is Benham Hall and the Needhams…”

“Mrs. Needham is coming over to visit with me later,” Emmie volunteered.