Page 3 of A Much Maligned Miss
“Dereliction of duty,” she supplied helpfully.
“Yes, that. Only, he probably was derelict,” he said darkly. “Gerrard fudged the evidence so that he should not have to go to prison.”
“At the behest of Miss Pomfrey, one presumes?”
Teddy nodded. “Yes, she’s a wild woman and Captain Gerrard cannot get enough of her,” he explained solemnly.
Caroline steadfastly refused to meet Lord Atherton’s eye.
Mercifully, refreshments were served at this point. Two impeccably dressed maids entered the room carrying trays of fresh baked scones and bowls of cream and jam, and a beautiful Sevres tea service. They transferred the dishes onto some low tables, and Lady Faris stood up, inviting everyone to move to the center of the room to partake in afternoon tea.
Teddy scrambled to his feet. “Hurry, Miss Halperston,” he urged. “We don’t want to get left with the blackcurrant jam.”
Caroline stood up and made haste to follow his lead, leaving Atherton to saunter in their wake. Soon everyone was seated in a circle, drinking tea and chattering politely. Caroline stayed close to Teddy, sitting between him and Reverend Ryland. Lord Atherton sat next to Viscountess Faris, who he appeared to be on excellent terms with and addressed as Emmeline.
Viscount Faris appeared shortly after, resplendent in a blue silk tailcoat. No sooner had he bent his blond head over the sofa to kiss his wife than he slid seamlessly into the role of host, urging everyone to eat their fill and reminding everyone that the only acceptable way to eat scones was to apply jam first, and then cream. “Budge up, Gervaise,” he said, dropping down onto the sofa next to his wife.
“That was one of the first things I learned when I moved to Penarth,” said Lady Faris. “How to eat scones the right way.”
“Unless you’re from Devon,” Teddy stated, slathering jam liberally onto his scone. “They do it the other way around.” He pushed the dish of strawberry jam toward Caroline.
“I expect Pomfrey eats his scones cream first,” Caroline murmured, earning a grin from Teddy.
“What is that you are whispering, Caroline?” her mother asked peevishly. “It’s very rude to do that in company.”
“We are speaking of someone you do not know, Mrs. Needham,” Teddy responded quickly. “An acquaintance of ours you would not have heard of.”
Mama was not pleased with this answer, Caroline could see, but she did not like to insist the heir to Vance Park shared their confidences. Caroline thought it wise to adopt silence after this point lest she incited her to further complaint.
After eating, Lord Faris suggested everyone adjourn to the library to inspect the progress on his wife’s portrait.
“Pray do not feel obligated on my account,” Lady Faris said, pouring out another cup of tea. “Gervaise and Teddy have already seen it and Caroline will not wish to look at it again, for she saw it only last week when she visited.”
In the end Jeremy led the vicar and his wife and Mrs. Needham out of the room to see the portrait while the others stayed put in the drawing room. Lord Atherton and Lady Faris remained where they were chatting, whilst Caroline and Teddy drifted back to the toy soldiers.
This time they set about constructing a temporary camp for them until they returned to their fort in the nursery. This necessitated the appropriation of a few cushions and a blanket which Teddy draped over the back of the sofa. He darted out of the room to fetch an assortment of books which he claimed would make excellent tents. Caroline stood the soldiers up in tidy formation while she waited for his return.
Five minutes later he reentered the room with an armful of books and dropped down beside her to start opening them up and standing them on their edges. Caroline joined in and they had soon made a circle of ten or so “tents” by the time the others returned.
The vicar was pontificating about something, most likely the composition of the portrait as they entered the room. “—which makes the grove of trees particularly effective in the backdrop,” he summed up. Caroline was listening with half an ear as she started to slide the soldiers into their “tents” when her mother let out a blood-curdling scream, clutching her hand to her bosom.
Caroline came quickly to her feet. “Mama?” Oh God. Was it her heart? Perhaps she had not been exaggerating all this time about her palpitations.
“My shawl!” her mother cried, pointing a dramatic finger to a pretty Norwich silk shawl draped over the edge of a chair. “The one which Edgar gifted me for my birthday. Oh no, no, no!” The last was a dramatic wail.
Had something been spilled on it? Caroline wondered as, along with the other guests, she crossed the room to see what was wrong.
“It’s been cut!” her mother gasped. “Someone has taken a pair of scissors to it!” She snatched it up and clasped it to her breast with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Caroline, how could you? I know you were always jealous of it but to destroy it in such a wanton fashion is beyond the pale!
“I saw you walking toward it as we left the room. I thought you had a mind to borrow it which I would not have minded, but I never dreamed you would be so—so viciously cruel.” The last was uttered shakily as tears ran down Mama’s pink and white face.
Caroline’s mouth opened and closed. “But I—I never—” She gazed in shocked dismay at the mutilated shawl. “I can’t imagine how—”
But of course, she knew full well who had cut the shawl. Mama. It was one of her old tricks, merely a variation of kicking Caroline under the table and then crying out as though she herself was the victim. Why would you do such a thing, Caroline? She had been bewildered as a child but by now she knew the drill.
Now she came to think of it, had she not seen Mama placing a little pair of sewing scissors in her reticule before they left home? Strangely the realization cooled her cheeks. The axe had finally fallen. She had been waiting for it all afternoon.
Mrs. Ryland hurried to her mother’s side, flinging a protective arm about her and glaring at Caroline, her bosom heaving with indignation. “Such wickedness!” she hissed as Lady Faris’s voice lifted in conciliatory tones.
