Page 26 of A Much Maligned Miss

“And then your uncle George had no children,” she said slowly, looking to him for confirmation.

“He never even married,” he clarified. “I think he felt a little guilty when I appeared. He agreed to name me his heir and paid a generous allowance for my schooling and expenses.”

“Well, that was good of him, at least.”

“Mmmm, yes. On my father’s death he became my guardian and was most accommodating in that role until recently, when he gave me a very nasty shock.”

Caroline leaned forward on her elbows. “What happened?” Gervaise poured himself a brandy and lifted his eyebrows at her. “No, thank you,” she said quickly.

“Suit yourself. Well, to put in a nutshell, he started showing an interest in my matrimonial prospects. Namely, selecting a candidate in a most odiously pushing manner.”

“A candidate for your bride, you mean?”

“I do,” he confirmed. “The daughter of a business acquaintance of his. A bottled fruit manufacturer.”

Caroline eyed him steadily. “She has plenty of money, I suspect.”

“Oh, she does. Pots of the stuff.”

“And you have none.”

“True,” he said, exhaling another plume of smoke. “I also have little inclination to marry Miss Beryl Blessing, who is a vivacious young woman of twenty-one, determined to cut a swathe through fashionable society and have all of London worshipping at her dainty feet.”

“She’s beautiful, then?”

“If you appreciate diminutive blondes with very large blue eyes and tinkling laughs.”

“She sounds quite delightful,” Caroline said truthfully. “And all that is desirable in a bride. Your only objection must lie in her connection to trade.” She felt unaccountably disappointed in him.

“Perhaps, but in my defense, I also dislike having my hand forced.”

Gazing at him through the haze of smoke surrounding him, Caroline found she did not doubt it.

10

Day three of their journey dawned cold and wet. Today they would travel to Reading, a journey of some seventy miles. Rain lashed against the window, rattling the pane, and Gervaise groaned, wondering at the time. It was still dark outside, but the storm clouds could be contributing to that impression. He reached out a hand and groped around the bed before remembering that he had let Caroline take the kittens the night before.

Caroline. What was he actually going to do with her once they reached London? His eyes sprang open at the thought. Was he starting to feel responsible for the woman? Curious. Gervaise’s sense of responsibility had never been particularly strong.

He fulfilled very few roles of obligation. In fact, the only one he could think of was that of godfather to Master Teddy Vance. Even in that capacity, he had only really stepped up his involvement since Lady Faris appeared on the scene and seemed to expect it from him!

Caroline though, would she have any ideas around gainful employment? He rather doubted it. He suspected her schooling, which she had admitted herself was second rate, had not equipped her to hold down much of any kind of job.

Now that he and Uncle George were practically reconciled again, he wondered if he could foist her off on his elderly relative as some kind of secretary? Uncle was notoriously bad at arranging his affairs and could likely use someone to organize him.

Caroline seemed adept at dealing with embarrassing scenes, maintaining discretion at all times, and ruthlessly repressing herself. When not under the influence of laudanum, that was. She also seemed eminently practical, he decided, remembering how calmly and sensibly she had greeted him after they had shared a room together that first night.

No die-away maidenly airs had greeted him the next morning, thank God. Then again, uncle’s new bride might object to having another attractive young woman on the premises, and Caroline was attractive though she had no notion how to best present herself to advantage.

Wives tended to have strong feelings on such things, he reflected, remembering how his cousin Louisa had insisted Freddie Holcombe dismiss two pretty parlor maids one after the other in the early days of their marriage.

A tap on the door heralded the arrival of his shaving water, and he closed his eyes, accepting with a sigh that it was time for him to make himself ready for the day. Half an hour later, he descended the stairs and made his way through to their private parlor. To his surprise, neither Caroline nor the kittens awaited him there.

“Good morning, your lordship,” the same servant as last night greeted him, entering the room and plunking down both coffee and teapot on the table before him.

“Good morning. Have you seen my companion this morning?”

“Yes, milord. She’s outside with them there kittens of hers.” He shook his head disapprovingly and pursed his lips. “I daresay she will be in directly.”