Page 70 of A Foolish Flirtation

Higgins sailed in carrying in a tray of coffee. He placed it on a low gold table in front of Emmie. “Thank you, Higgins.”

“Now where do you suppose that boy has dragged Miss Pinson off to?” Mina asked with a smile. “As far as his nursery?”

Emmie echoed her smile. “My own suspicion is that he has taken her to the library to show her an illustration of the Colossus of Rhodes. He wanted to show it to me earlier, but his father prevented him.”

Mina gave her a curious look. “You are on excellent terms with my nephew I see,” she said. “I am glad. I notice he calls you Mama already.”

“That was at his own initiative, I assure you,” Emmie explained hurriedly. “I am sure he will tell you all about it, but it was actually Teddy that picked me out for his new mama in the first place.” She used the surprised silence that greeted these words to pour out three cups of coffee. “Cream?” she asked. “Sugar?”

Fortunately at this point, Teddy and Miss Pinson reappeared. Teddy was carrying a large leather-bound tome which he brought straight over to Emmie. As she had expected, it was open at the page showing the Colossus standing astride the harbor at Rhodes.

“What an impressive sight it must have been,” she said. “Truly a wonder. Only see how the ships sailed between his legs!” She pointed to the picture. “Imagine being in that boat and looking up at the statue towering above you.”

Teddy nodded. “It’s a lucky thing he was wearing a loincloth,” he said, dumbfounding all three ladies. Emmie felt her cheeks turn hot, while Mina went off in a coughing fit. As for Pinky, she was quite frozen in horror. “It says here,” Teddy continued, quite oblivious to their reaction, “that an earthquake caused the Colossus to snap off at the knees, whereupon it fell into the sea. Don’t you think that’s rather too bad?”

“I wonder why they did not rebuild it,” Emmie said loudly, hoping to distract him while poor Pinky recovered. Her friend was still standing aghast, a hand pressed to her slight bosom. Emmie hoped she was not having palpitations.

“I’ll find out,” Teddy said, seizing Miss Pinson’s wrist. They retreated to the opposite sofa but not before Pinky grabbed her coffee to fortify herself with. She was still looking sadly shaken.

Emmie turned back to Mina, who was watching her. “You are good with him,” she said, “but he is already far too much for your friend to deal with. I fear she is not up to the task of handling my nephew.”

Despite the fact her words echoed Emmie’s own fears, she had to make an effort not to bristle. “Hannah is not used to dealing with boys, that is all,” she said defensively. “And it is only an interim measure after all.”

Mina made no comment, and Emmie looked across to where Pinky and Teddy were now sat poring over the open book together. “He is such a sweet, imaginative child,” she said.

“He is that. He is also a rare handful,” Mina said, lifting her coffee cup. Before taking a sip, she plunked it back down again into her saucer. “Did Teddy really pick you out for my brother’s bride?” she asked forthrightly.

“Yes, he did,” Emmie replied and took a sip of hot coffee. “I think, you know, that it must have been that same imagination of his at work, and that same sweetness.” At Mina’s querying look, she said, “He heard from a third party, you see, of my unsuccessful London season ten years ago.”

She took a deep breath. “Your brother was the only gentleman to sign my dance card without inducement,” she shared, deciding to skate over the rest of it. “And Lily, the third party I mean, did not hesitate to paint me in a somewhat pathetic light. Instead of seeing me as a comical figure, the story engaged Teddy’s sympathies and thirst for justice. He felt for my plight, and he wanted to see the balance redressed.”

“Justice?” Mina repeated quietly. A glimmer of comprehension showed in her eyes which quite disconcerted Emmie. Botheration! She had not meant to betray Jeremy’s role. She gripped her cup tightly. “My, er, finances had sadly dwindled since my London days. I was living in Bath pretty much in genteel poverty,” she admitted, her throat closing over the words.

“Found it!” Teddy announced excitedly. “It says here, the citizens of Rhodes were afraid they had angered the god Helios, and that was why the Colossus fell. They did not dare to raise it again, in case they further caused his displeasure.”

“What does the god Helios have to do with it?” Emmie asked, happy for a change of subject.

“That was who the Colossus was supposed to be, Mama,” Teddy answered. “The sun god, Helios.”

“Oh, I had not realized,” Emmie murmured, feeling foolish and probably giving an even worse impression of Pinky’s skills as an educator. “I thought the Colossus was quite a separate figure in his own right.”

“Oh dear,” said Pinky. “I always find these pagan gods so very confusing! I was quite under the impression that the god associated with the sun was Apollo.”

Fortunately, at this point Baby James started to cry, and the subject was dropped altogether.

16

The rest of the visit passed without further event and as they took their leave, Mina pressed her hand and cordially invited Emmie to drop in and visit them at their inn, The Prizefighter, whenever she was in the locality, assuring her there was no need to stand on formality now they were family. Still, Emmie did not think she had made the greatest of first impressions on her in-laws.

Lottie took down her hair, helped her out of her gown, and put her jewelry away as Emmie tried not to dwell too much on this latest failure. Her social skills were bound to be rusty, she told herself. She had long been out of circulation. Not that she had ever been the most socially effervescent creature, even when she lived in Porchester Square.

Still, she had frequently acted as hostess for her father’s business dinners without falling flat on her face, she thought. Or had his guests merely tolerated her as her rich father’s lump of a daughter? She was starting to wonder.

Pinky, for instance, had friends she had corresponded with for years. The fact she had not seen them in an age did not impair her friendships in any way. There was Mrs. Stephenson and Miss West and old Canon Perryman and his sister and a great many more besides. Pinky was always writing to someone or else receiving long letters about beef tea and summer colds and tutting sympathetically or knitting them headscarves for Christmas.

Emmie still received the odd Christmas card from old acquaintances but even those had dwindled after so many moves in the past few years. Of course, she knew there were lots of reasons for this. Any friends who had not abruptly dropped her, she had herself created distance from. She had not wanted to embarrass them with her change in circumstance, any more than she had wanted to mortify herself.

Then, too, there had been the move away from London. Once set up in Bath, she had only ever corresponded with Humphrey, duplicitous wretch that he was, with the odd businesslike letter from Mr. Hardiman. Otherwise, she and Pinky had lived very quietly on their limited means. She had been fortunate indeed to have a friend like Hannah Pinson, she thought. Otherwise, she would have been quite alone in the world.