Page 32 of A Much Maligned Miss

“Are you sure this is not a terrible imposition?” the older man asked anxiously as the landlord set down a bottle of wine and some glasses on the table.

“No, no,” Gervaise replied. “We will be very merry together; I have no doubt.” If there was a trace of dryness in his voice, the canon did not appear to hear it, though he noticed Caroline avoided meeting his eye.

They were served first with boiled cod accompanied with egg sauce and parsnips. The kittens received a good deal of the plain fish from all three diners as fortunately the sauce was on the side. This was followed by roast lamb with cauliflower and broad beans.

The food was edible but not as good as the previous evening, in Gervaise’s estimation. A dessert of bread-and-butter pudding somewhat made up for this, though he noticed Caroline ate very little of it. Canon Petrie talked earnestly about his travels in France in his younger days.

When questioned, Gervaise admitted he had visited that country before now. Given little choice, he ended up talking politely about the charm of its rustic villages and medieval towns while the canon lamented the rise of factories and industrialization, which he appeared to believe constituted a modern blight on the land.

“France is surely no worse than Britain or Germany in that respect,” Gervaise opined. “If anything, I would say it is considerably behind us when it comes to modernization and change.” To his disappointment, Caroline had disengaged from the conversation altogether by this point and seemed content playing with the cats. He suspected she had never so much as left England, so he supposed he could not blame her.

Before the canon could respond, she rose from her seat. “I hope you gentlemen will excuse me, I find myself rather tired and in need of a good night’s rest before the final leg of our journey tomorrow.”

“No, don’t take them,” Gervaise said swiftly when she stooped to pick up the kittens. “I’ll have them in with me tonight.”

She looked surprised. “Oh, but—”

“They will need taking out in the early hours,” he reminded her. “And I don’t want you stumbling around in the dark in your nightgown.” His words seemed to pull her up short and her lips formed a soundless oh of comprehension.

“Very well, in that case, I will wish you both a good night.”

“Good night,” he and the canon duly echoed.

He tipped his head to watch her as she exited the room, though there was really nothing to draw his eye in her sensible traveling gown, nor in the practical way she had secured her hair at her nape. Nothing at all. He gave his head a shake. “Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked, reaching for his cigarette case.

13

Caroline woke for the final day of their journey with mixed feelings. Today they would reach London, which filled her both with excitement and dread. They had forty miles to cover and four stops and were predicted to reach London around late afternoon. Would Gervaise’s uncle really be so amenable to taking an unknown woman into his employ? she wondered uneasily. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Then again, presumably Gervaise knew him best. She would just have to thrust all doubts and worries from her mind and trust in Atherton. He had shown himself remarkably deserving of her trust thus far, she reflected, drawing back her blankets and tiptoeing across the room to look out of the window onto the courtyard below.

Of course, there had been that business of a shared bed at the very first inn, but that hardly qualified as a seduction attempt. He had even been forced to witness her being extremely unwell, for goodness’ sake! It was true, a really high-minded gentleman would have given up his room for one so afflicted, but she simply could not imagine Lord Atherton sleeping on a hard wooden bench belowstairs for anyone’s sake, let alone hers.

No, she thought. He had stood a genuine friend to her these past three days, and she had nothing to complain of. Not only had he paid her passage and board without complaint, but he had also been a thoughtful traveling companion in his own way.

For one thing, he had not snubbed poor Canon Petrie, though she knew he must have been sorely tempted. There had been that business with the cats for another. First, he had taken a strong exception to her being scolded and then last night he had been touchingly considerate of her not having to take them out in the dark.

Yes, when you really thought about it, he had been genuinely kind. Catching sight of a tall, dark figure out of the corner of her eye, she turned to see him stood next to a low wall, the two cats at his feet, while he breathed smoke into the morning air. He could not already be dressed, she thought, though he wore his long dark coat.

Catching the direction of her thoughts, she blushed and prepared to take a step back from the window, lest he spotted her. At that moment, he raised his hand, and she realized he had already seen her. She lifted her own hand in acknowledgment, then let it fall as he turned to fully face her window squarely, gazing up at her.

Caroline’s feet felt frozen to the floorboards. Why did he not turn away? She was not sure how long they stood like that, staring at one another, until she heard a tap at the door and a maid poked her head around it. “Morning, miss,” she said cheerfully, and the spell was broken. With a gasp, Caroline turned and walked across the room to take the steaming jug of hot water from her.

“Thank you so much.”

She spent the next ten minutes washing and tidily arranging her hair. The next time she moved to the window to close the curtains before dressing, he was gone. Once dressed, she hurried down to breakfast, which at The Royal Oak consisted of a dish of herring and eggs and another of sausage and tomatoes.

Caroline and Canon Petrie ignored both options and plumped instead for toast and jam and were just on their second slices when Gervaise sauntered in cradling both cats in his arms. “Good morning,” he greeted them, sliding into a seat.

Caroline lowered her slice of toast. “Good morning.”

“Good morning indeed. Our final breakfast together,” the canon said, smiling. “Before we go our separate ways.”

Gervaise’s eyes met Caroline’s over the top of the teapot, and she hurriedly poured herself a second cup while he started feeding herring to the cats. “Can I refill your cup, Father Petrie?”

“Thank you, no,” he answered, greeting Romulus, who was rubbing against his legs. “Good morning, Master Romulus, and you too, Master Remus.”

“Will anyone be meeting you off the mail coach, Father?” Caroline asked as Gervaise helped himself liberally to sausage and tomatoes.