Page 105 of A Much Maligned Miss

“I am not so sure a scullery will suffice now there are so many people living there. The place could really do with a functioning kitchen complete with cast iron stove.”

“The Citadel is neither a restaurant nor a home, Caroline,” he pointed out calmly. “Effie’s barmaids will be more than happy to purchase their meals from street vendors.”

“You called it home yesterday,” she said, peering at him over the top of her glass.

“I did?”

“Yes. I marked it most particularly because you had not done so before.” Gervaise was silent a moment as he cast about for some reply, any reply that would not offend her. “Perhaps because you have made it so much more homely, since you have bought us so many nice new things,” she suggested.

“If I referred to it as ‘home,’” he answered finally, “then I did so because you are there.” He let that sink in, before continuing carefully. “The place is…insufficient for our needs. It is a mere four rooms in an attic.”

When she did not reply, he took a deep breath. “Lately, I have been thinking I could buy us a house. What would you say to that? It was living with my dull uncle that was the barrier to matrimony last time we discussed the matter, was it not?”

Caroline set down her glass. “I thought you had no money.”

“Rent one, then,” he answered with a shrug. “I ran into my uncle this morning,” he said, studying his wineglass. “The old boy made it plain he has no intention of disinheriting me after all. He’s smoothed things over with the Blessings and that whole business seems to have run its course.”

“You ran into him?” she said slowly. “In one of your clubs?”

“Yes.” He did not mention the fact he knew old George would be in Worthalls, as was his custom.

“Did you…? Did he…?”

“Ask after my wife? Of course he did.”

Caroline flushed. “And did you set him straight?”

“No,” he admitted. “I did not.”

“Gervaise,” she murmured disapprovingly.

“I have already told you my intent on that score.”

“But Gervaise—”

“You like the new furniture,” he reminded her. “Imagine how much you would like a whole house filled with the stuff.”

Caroline looked grave. “But your uncle surely expects his heir to reside under his roof.”

“Who cares what Uncle George expects? I never have. I lived at Melbury Square purely for convenience’s sake, not for any other reason. The responsibility of maintaining my own household never appealed to me before.”

“But if you expect him to finance a house, it hardly seems—”

“I am not wholly dependent on my uncle,” Gervaise cut in, more sharply than he had intended. He always prided himself on the fact he was quite shameless, but Caroline’s expression of reproach touched him on the raw. “Good God, madam! Do you want me to present you with a ledger of my accounts before you will consider my suit?”

She sat very still. “As to that, my lord, I believe it is a father’s role to ensure his daughter is financially secure in her marriage. And as you know, mine is dead.”

“And a thoroughly bad lot, if memory serves,” he added before he could stop himself. It was a sad fact that Gervaise’s tongue could be cruel when he felt provoked.

“Quite so,” she said quietly, and he saw she had turned rather pale.

“Come, let us not quarrel,” he said briskly. “I will see you back to The Citadel, and then I have to meet up with Ewell. He wants to introduce me to some acquaintances of his.”

He hailed a cab and they rode back to the gin palace in silence. Instead of leaving her on the step, he saw her up to their rooms. Caroline did not protest, merely preceded him up the stairs and made straight for her sewing box.

Almost he regretted not hailing Lady Sharpe himself. If he had introduced Caroline as his wedded wife would not that have put some pressure on her to make it so?

No sooner was she seated than he bade her farewell. “I want you to give my offer of marriage some serious thought, Caroline,” he said by way of a parting shot. “Consider, if we were safely married then you need not dissolve into a milk jelly at the prospect of seeing anyone from your past.”