Page 53 of A Much Maligned Miss

“Vi!” Effie hissed reproachfully but Caroline could see her own eyes were alight with interest as she turned back to face her.

“I am not remotely offended,” Caroline assured them. “Why should I be? I imagine you must have a pretty fair idea about the nature of our association already. And what you will have naturally surmised happens to be the truth.”

When Violet looked back at her blankly, Caroline cleared her throat. “I am a scarlet woman,” she explained gravely.

Effie gave a startled spurt of laughter, “Lord bless you!” she exclaimed but Violet still looked skeptical. “That’s what my Jeb said, though not in as many words,” Effie continued before hesitating. “But I have to say—well—I don’t quite know how to put this…” Her words trailed off.

Violet set down her teacup with a thud. “What Effie means is you just don’t seem the type,” she said forthrightly.

“I assure you that I am,” Caroline answered, feeling nettled. She supposed they meant she was not attractive enough and felt…irritated. Yes, decidedly she felt irritated. Was she not being sketched by an artist even as they spoke? Who were they to decide her attractions were lacking?

Violet opened her mouth, and Caroline just knew the impertinent blonde was about to ask if Lord Atherton was her first…what? Lover? Protector? She was not entirely sure of the word they would use, but she knew if she confessed as much, they would decide she was some poor dupe his lordship had dragged to her ruin, rather than the experienced woman she wished to be viewed as.

Suddenly, she decided she would not allow their pity or their contempt. “Why, before his lordship, I brought a whole battalion of soldiers to their knees for love of me,” she said breezily. “A certain Captain Gerrard desired greatly to marry me, and would have done, despite my reputation and most disreputable family associations, but his lordship convinced me he was my better option.” She shrugged a casual shoulder, so her toga slipped down, and then, daringly she left it like that. After all, why not?

“Got a disreputable family, have you?” Effie echoed, looking intrigued.

“Oh yes, my brother, Private Pomfrey, is a terrible scoundrel,” Caroline answered, beginning to enjoy herself. “He’s been up for court martial dozens of times and would have been dishonorably discharged if I had not convinced Captain Gerrard to falsify his evidence. That was why I turned my womanly wiles on him in the first place.”

For a moment she tried to imagine her virtuous brother in the guise of Teddy’s slipshod toy soldier and almost laughed aloud. It was too good. Maybe this was how Mama felt when she made up such dreadful things all the time. Caroline had never understood the appeal of telling untruths before, but it was proving surprisingly fun. She would have to watch herself in future or she might go down the same path!

Violet snorted. “’Ow can his lordship be your better option when you ’ad some respectable man wanting to actually marry you, you daft mare!”

“Vi!” Effie snapped. “You mind your manners unless you want to be slung out on your ear!”

Caroline smiled and picked up her teacup and saucer. “Because, my dear Violet,” she answered. “Lord Atherton has settled four thousand pounds on me, for the privilege of my exclusive company and, to be perfectly frank, I wanted to come to London and see a bit of life. Not to be tied down in marriage to a dull man and confined to some provincial town.”

“Four thousand pounds?” Effie gasped, leaning forward, her eyes like saucers. “He never did!”

“He most certainly has.”

“I don’t believe it!” Violet blurted but the expression on her face was suddenly uncertain.

“You may believe whatever you want,” Caroline answered with a shrug. “I have no reason to lie.” About that part at least, she added silently. May saints preserve young Teddy Vance, she reflected fervently. He had saved her once again from an awkward encounter by providing her with the persona of Miss Pomfrey and her “wild woman ways.”

She smiled to herself, and Mr. Bailey’s head popped around the side of his easel. “Yes, keep smiling like that, Ambrosia,” he encouraged her. “You look full of secrets as you should, for are you not a keeper of mysteries?”

“Oh yes, I have many secrets,” Caroline answered vaguely, holding her smile.

“Quite right,” the artist agreed staunchly.

At this point, the door hammered again and the first of several delivery boys arrived carrying a multitude of parcels tied up with string and addressed to Miss Pomfrey, c/o The Citadel.

“They’re from Gervaise, I mean Lord Atherton,” Caroline exclaimed, tearing the wrapper off the first one and finding a huge box of crystallized fondant creams.

Effie and Violet exchanged looks, and Mr. Bailey protested that she must open the rest of her gifts later or he would lose all the good light.

Violet’s manner was a good deal less contemptuous for the rest of the afternoon. The glances she directed her way still contained a hint of bafflement, but Caroline fancied they were tempered now with a certain measure of respect.

22

Gervaise arrived back at The Citadel about five o’clock. It had taken a good deal longer to procure a special marriage license than he had anticipated. He had not realized it would be such a tiresome process with quite so many questions asked. After that he had decided to do a little shopping, starting with a confectioner.

This too had taken up more of his time than he had expected. He kept getting distracted by items that might amuse or tickle Caroline’s fancy. He hoped the steady stream of packages he had sent her way had kept her amused throughout the day.

Still, she was likely to be both bored and feeling hard done by, stashed away in those attic rooms as she was. He would take her out to dinner to make it up to her, he decided as he alighted from his cab. Somewhere decent but discreet. He needed to keep things quiet until he had got everything straightened out, he thought, wincing slightly.

It was a pity he had not realized his feelings until this late in the day but there it was. No matter, he thought, tapping his breast pocket and feeling the reassuring rustle of the papers there. Things could soon be rectified and set to rights without too much disruption.