Page 75 of A Much Maligned Miss

“In principle,” he reminded her cautiously. “I agreed to speak to Ralph and Ewell about it.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Thank you. It would mean a lot to Effie and Vi.”

“I only care about it mattering to you,” he admitted frankly. “Shall I fetch you tea?”

“Oh yes, that would be lovely. Where are the cats?”

“Next to your feet.”

He threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, donned his robe and slippers, and made his way downstairs. Predictably, Remus remained lazing on the bed, but Romulus followed him down to the scullery.

He found Jeb hunched over the table, looking even worse for wear than he had the day before. Gervaise eyed him curiously. Of course, Caroline had told him all about the troubles he was having with Effie, so he knew full well why the prizefighter looked so disheveled.

“Good morning, Mr. Morris,” he murmured, making his way to the cupboard which housed the tea leaves.

Jeb looked unpleasantly surprised to find he was acquainted with his full name. “Mornin’,” he muttered, running a hand down his tired face.

“You look rather unkempt this morning. It is to be hoped your clothes will be pressed and your appearance presentable when you take up your duties as our head doorman next week.”

Jeb looked up, suddenly alert. “Head doorman you say?”

“I do,” Gervaise agreed, shutting the cupboard door. “Carstairs and I carried the motion last night. Ewell had a few other candidates lined up from his vast acquaintance of pugilists, but we decided in your favor. Do not make us regret it.”

“That’s good of you,” Jeb said raspily. “I am not usually—that is, by next week I hope to have things back to normal.”

“Do you indeed?” Gervaise answered dryly. “We are also employing Effie in the capacity of head barmaid. I trust that will not constitute a problem.”

“Why would it?” Jeb asked aggressively. “I’ve never had no problem with her earning a wage.”

Gervaise shrugged. “I understood your personal association was at an end. I trust the two of you will be able to work under the same roof without incident.”

Jeb looked as though he had struck him. “She said that to you?”

“Not to me but to my—to Miss Pomfrey,” Gervaise corrected himself swiftly. He really would have to stop doing that. Just because he thought of Caroline in those terms did not mean it was the reality. Not yet.

“In any case, it’s all been blown out of all proportion,” Jeb said with an impatient gesture. “Effie will see sense. She always does in the end.”

“Oh, she has left you before, then?”

Jeb shut his eyes momentarily and when he opened them, his expression was bleak. “No,” he admitted gruffly. “But she’ll be back. What choice does she have? I’m all she’s got.”

“I would not bank on that,” Gervaise replied.

Jeb eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean? Another man?” he asked sharply. “My Effie’s not like that.”

“I’m sure she is not. But I was not referring to a man but to my own precious Miss Pomfrey. She has taken Effie and another individual named Violet for her bosom friends. They are to replace a Miss Cynthia Jarrow and a certain Diana Hipworth who proved singularly unworthy of the honor.”

Jeb blinked. “Who the hell are they?”

“No one of note,” Gervaise replied breezily, “but the fact remains that Miss Pomfrey has been starved of friendship and deserves more of it.”

Jeb cast him a resentful look. “And why can’t you give ’er that?” he asked belligerently.

“Oh, I try my poor best, but it does not suffice.”

Jeb huffed. “Perhaps you do, for the time being, but that kind of ‘friendship’ don’t last,” he sneered. “Mebbe she knows that deep down.”

Gervaise considered this. “Are you speaking of Effie now?”