Page 5 of A Much Maligned Miss

“She always seemed pleasant enough to me,” Jeremy admitted, “but I will admit the events of last week have given me pause.”

“You only thought her pleasant because you have no discernment whatsoever,” Gervaise retorted scornfully.

“You simply thought that because she is pretty,” his wife agreed. “She reminds me of one of Pinky’s friends in Bath. A Mrs. Spensor-Higgins. A faded sort of woman, always gently complaining and occasionally stating a rather viperish thought.”

“Ugh, she sounds awful,” Gervaise pronounced. “I never could stand whiners. I’d rather a woman was an all-out bitch than that.”

Emmeline stiffened slightly at his language. Her husband’s hand on her back stilled.

“Mrs. Needham is generally considered to be a charming woman in these parts,” Jeremy said sternly. “Kindly stop maligning my neighbors.”

Gervaise shrugged, his eyes on Emmeline’s face. “Have I offended you, Emmeline?” he asked forthrightly. “This is how I speak among my friends and intimates.”

She seemed to relax at his words. “Then naturally I cannot take offence. By all means, malign away.” Gervaise bowed his head in smiling acquiescence but made no reply. “What do you make of her daughter?” she asked curiously.

He paused, seemingly to consider. “I don’t,” he said at last, exhaling another puff of smoke. “More importantly, what do you think of her?”

Emmeline screwed up her eyes. “I think she is deeply unhappy, and who can blame her? Her mother cares only for her brother and never has a kind word to say about her.” She glanced at her husband for confirmation, and he nodded in agreement.

“True enough,” he concurred.

“Yet locally it is believed she is selfish, standoffish, and an undutiful daughter. She is far from popular, and I have a strong suspicion her reputation is wholly undeserved.”

“She has a reserve about her that perhaps has done her no favors,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That awful business with the shawl…” Emmeline said with frustration.

Gervaise made a noise of agreement in his throat. “Even if she had taken the shears to it, the way her mother reacted…” He pulled a face.

Emmeline nodded. “Quite. Surely a fond parent would try to hide their child’s faults, not broadcast them to all and sundry.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jeremy said critically. “My own reaction to Teddy’s destructive streak is far from magnanimous. He once took my malacca walking cane and scuffed it to high heaven using it as an alpine climbing stock.” He shook his head with disgust.

“I’m sure you beat him soundly,” Gervaise said sarcastically.

Jeremy ignored him. “Besides, Miss Halperston must be five and twenty, if she’s a day. She’s not some schoolroom miss to be shielded by her mama from the consequences of her own actions.”

“I doubt that woman ever shielded her a day in her life,” Gervaise answered, gazing at the tip of his cigarillo.

“To be upbraided in front of us all as a grown woman did not seem right either,” Emmeline observed. “It was most uncomfortable. I hardly knew where to look.”

“Quite the little mystery, was it not?” Gervaise agreed. “If Teddy was not the culprit, then what conclusion can we draw? ‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. That one may smile and smile and be a villain,’” he quoted from Shakespeare.

“I don’t know about Denmark, but I do not believe the society here in Penarth is any worse than anywhere else,” Jeremy objected. “Your grandfather’s seat in Norfolk, for instance.” He set about rearranging the fur cape around his wife’s shoulders. “Cold, my lovely one?” he murmured. She shook her head, quick to reassure him on that score.

“I would hardly know,” Gervaise sighed. “It’s been years since dear Grandfather sold the family pile and moved permanently to the London townhouse. Which, incidentally, Uncle has not invited me to stay at once since he disinherited me last April. I am quite de trop.”

“Well, it should prove an interesting last evening for you at any rate,” Jeremy said. “Before you leave us on the morrow.”

“One last Cornish hurrah,” Gervaise agreed. “Before my return to the Metropolis.”

“Must you really return so soon?” Emmeline asked.

Gervaise smiled. “I’ve been with you now some two months. Some hosts would think I have long outstayed my welcome,” he pointed out.

“You will never do that at Vance Park,” Jeremy said swiftly. “We thought you would surely stay another month.”

“So did I, originally.”