Page 4 of A Much Maligned Miss

“I am sure there must be some mistake—” Their hostess faltered, darting a desperate look about the room.

Lord Faris cleared his throat, but for once his glib tongue seemed to have failed him “Some kind of accident, perhaps?” he ventured to fill the awful silence.

The vicar’s condemnatory gaze bore into her, and Caroline dropped her own to avoid his accusatory eyes. Pointless to protest, she had learned that long ago, denial just made things far, far worse. Mama’s voice would shake, and she would dissolve into helpless tears, maybe even swoon. No, it was best to just turn to stone and soldier through it. She squared her shoulders.

“Do you mean that old shawl over there?” Teddy enquired in his high, childish voice. “Oh, I did that. I thought it was some cast-off thing dogs lie on,” he added with a shrug.

Someone gasped and Caroline stared at him. She knew full well the boy had not done it. He had not had the opportunity for one. For another, why should he? So then, why was he…? His guileless blue eyes met hers wordlessly and suddenly she knew.

Teddy Vance was protecting her. He was her friend. Inexplicably, tears started to her eyes. Caroline blinked them back, swallowing hard. False accusations she could take in her stride but this? It almost undid her. She could scarcely believe he would take the blame for her sake. What could she do? What should she say? Her thoughts raced but she felt dazed at the turn things had taken.

Lord and Lady Faris stared in horror at their son. “But Teddy—” his mama started.

“Why on earth—?” thundered Lord Faris.

“Well, I for one think a few apologies are owed to Miss Halperston,” Lord Atherton said loudly, drowning them out. “Starting with you, Mrs. Needham,” he said, turning to her mother, who was staring at Teddy with a thwarted look on her face.

“I?” She faltered.

“Then, perhaps Mrs. Ryland, and then the vicar,” he continued with deliberation, savoring his words. “Rushing to judgment like that, tut tut. Most improper.” The vicar’s wife turned puce, but as Mama chose this moment to sag against her with a moan, they were quick to deflect attention.

“She has fainted, poor lady!” Mrs. Ryland shrieked. Reverend Ryland rushed to her side to help support the stricken woman to a nearby seat.

“It appears no apologies will be forthcoming,” Atherton said dryly, “so I personally feel Teddy should also be spared the necessity.”

Lord Faris again cleared his throat. He was looking from Teddy to the shawl with a baffled expression on his face. “But I don’t understand what could have possessed you—?”

His wife stepped hastily forward. “I—er—expect he must have wanted some scraps of fabric for his little game,” she said brightly. “A most unfortunate business, but we will replace the shawl and well—all is well that ends well, is that not so, dearest?” She darted an insistent look at her husband.

Lord Faris frowned and looked from her to Teddy again. “Well, but—”

“As Teddy’s godfather, I request his punishment be left to me in this instance,” Atherton interrupted. “I will devise something suitably punitive, never fear.”

“Oh, what a good idea!” Lady Faris exclaimed. “The very thing!” She reached across and pinched her husband’s arm.

“Oh, very well, if you insist,” he responded at last, though he was clearly at a loss as to what was going on. “But we must certainly make some reparation to Miss Halperston who is unlikely to ever visit with us again after such an unpleasant altercation.”

“Not at all, Lord Faris, I am—” Caroline bit off her words. Entirely used to it was not something she could confess to in public. “I mean, it was all just a simple misunderstanding,” she concluded lamely.

Teddy turned to Caroline. “Now that it’s ruined already, let’s make blankets for the men out of that old shawl,” he said, entirely unabashed. “A very good notion of Mama’s, do you not think?”

2

“That woman’s a liar,” said Gervaise thoughtfully, blowing out a plume of smoke.

“What woman?” Emmeline asked in surprise.

“The Needham woman,” he answered, extending his arm to flick the ash from his cigarette out of the carriage window.

“Our hostess for the evening. You think so?” Jeremy asked, though he did not sound terribly interested. His hand rubbed his wife’s back in lazy circles, and he was wholly occupied watching her face. “What makes you say so?” he asked without shifting his gaze from her profile.

“I can tell. I’m one myself but I only tell casual, convenient sort of lies. She’s another matter altogether.”

Jeremy’s viscountess stirred in her seat. “Are you being sincere in this?” she asked. “Or just amusing yourself as per usual?”

Gervaise gave an appreciative grin. “A bit of both, I suspect,” he answered with a shrug.

“I must confess I’ve never warmed to her,” Emmeline admitted. “And Teddy positively dislikes her.”