Page 22 of A Foolish Flirtation

“What about you?” the boy asked with interest. He leveled a serious look at her. “Do you like frilly things?” There was a faint note of disapproval in young Master Vance’s tone.

“I do,” she concurred. “I like a good many pretty and frivolous things.”

“What about kittens?”

“Adore them, don’t you?”

He ignored this, shooting a speculative look at her through his eyelashes. “What about my father?” he asked. Colfax let out a warning grumble from his throat which startled Emmie more than the boy.

She paused. “I imagine you are better placed to know his opinion of cats than I, Edward,” she responded calmly.

“I wish you would call me Teddy,” the boy said plaintively. “I am only called Edward when I am in disgrace.”

Emmie’s lips twitched; she could not help it. The child was incorrigible. “Very well, Teddy,” she said, moving toward the door, for she heard Pinky’s tread outside and the tinkle of tea things. “Ah, here you are, Hannah,” she said, quickly warning her friend, who had a nervous disposition. “We have visitors this morning.”

Pinky’s step into the room faltered. “Oh!” she exclaimed in stricken accents, freezing to the spot, her hands clutching the breakfast tray in a deathly grip. Her startled gaze flew from Colfax’s intimidating bulk to Teddy’s slight frame clad in nautical garb. She quivered and the contents of the tray started rattling.

“Allow me, miss,” the footman said smoothly and moved so swiftly that before they knew it, he had taken the tray from her hands and deposited it gracefully onto the small dining table tucked into the corner.

“Th-thank you,” Pinky stammered, though her gaze could not meet Colfax’s. “Most, er, most kind.”

“Hannah,” said Emmie bracingly, “this is young Master Vance, who is paying us a visit with Colfax this morning.” The large footman bowed. “Teddy, this is my best friend in all the world, Miss Hannah Pinson.”

Pinky could always fall back on impeccable manners and managed a graceful curtsey. Teddy stepped forward to courteously shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Pinson,” he said, staring up at her friend with undisguised curiosity.

Oh dear, thought Emmie. The kindest thing she could do was to draw the child’s attention away from Pinky, who was clearly a mass of nerves. At that moment, Colfax caught her eye. To her surprise, the footman was also staring hard at poor Pinky.

Emmie cleared her throat, and Colfax seemed to remember where he was, immediately averting his eyes from her stricken friend, his expression turning carefully blank.

Teddy skipped over to the table. “Is this your breakfast?” he asked, examining the tray which held two boiled eggs and two pieces of unbuttered bread.

“It is,” she answered cheerfully as Pinky’s hand fluttered to her throat. Poor Pinky looked quite mortified at the exposure of their meagre breakfast. “Will you join us for a cup of tea this morning?”

“Yes, I will,” Teddy answered with assurance. “Though I do not want an egg for I have already eaten.” Which was just as well, Emmie reflected, for she was not sure they had any spare.

“Wait till you’re asked,” Colfax growled, and Emmie realized he would recognize the signs of straitened circumstances far better than his young charge.

Teddy ignored him, pulling out the third chair and sitting himself on it with all the dignity of a young prince upon his throne. Emmie crossed to the corner cupboard, set down the envelope to read later, and took out three sets of cups and saucers.

She threw a quick questioning glance at Colfax, for the footman’s role did not seem to be that of mere attendant, but he had retreated to the window again. He looked so stiff and formal; she thought better of offering him refreshment.

“Shall I pour, Pinky?” Emmie asked gently, sliding into the chair behind the teapot.

“Pinky?” repeated Teddy, looking immediately intrigued.

“Oh, a childish form of address,” Emmie explained with some momentary embarrassment. “Hannah and I have been together since I was five years old, and I sometimes fall back on calling her that.”

“I’ll pour, dear,” Pinky said with a small smile and picked up the milk jug.

“I’m afraid we do not have any sugar this morning,” Emmie said, anticipating Pinky’s next crisis. “Though we do have a good deal of cakes. Shall I go down to the kitchen and fetch you one?”

“No thank you,” Teddy answered promptly. “I don’t have much appetite these days,” he sighed. “I used to eat lots and lots.”

“Because of your recent illness?” Emmie enquired.

“Yes, they don’t know if I will ever fully recover,” Teddy answered tragically. There was a snort heard from the direction of the window. “Some children die from scarlet fever,” he pointed out, throwing a cold look Colfax’s way before continuing sadly. “I may remain a semi-invalid for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, you poor child!” Pinky gasped. Evidently, Teddy’s angelic appearance was starting to win her over, despite his maleness.