Page 76 of A Much Maligned Miss

Jeb glared at him. “Effie?” he burst out contemptuously. “No, course I’m bleedin’ not! I wasn’t”—he struggled for the right word—“dallying with her! It wasn’t like that between us at all.”

“Oh? My understanding is you set up home with her yet did not offer her the protection of marriage. Do I have that wrong?”

“You don’t understand,” Jeb said, turning very red. “And you’ve got a bloody cheek judging me considering your own little arrangement upstairs.”

“I’ve offered marriage to Caroline repeatedly,” Gervaise answered swiftly. “And what’s more, I have every intention of marrying her. It is only a matter of time.”

Jeb stared at him. “You what? Then why—?”

“Like I said, she won’t have me at present,” Gervaise interrupted him. “I was shamefully obtuse at the outset of our dealings together, but I’m working on rectifying things. Our situation is the reverse of your own. I am Effie, ever hopeful of matrimony, and she is you, tiresomely resistant.”

Jeb seemed at a loss for words. Calmly, Gervaise warmed the pot and then steeped the tea leaves. “If this is true, then why the fuck did you bring her to a place like this?” Jeb burst out at last.

Gervaise winced. “Like I said, it was a misstep but at least I realized mine almost immediately. You seem to have strung along poor Effie for years, if I am not mistaken.”

Jeb clamped his mouth shut and looked away. “You don’t understand how it is in my family,” he gritted out at last. “I’m expected to provide for my widowed mother and my sisters. To set an example for them. Mum would never accept the likes of Effie for a daughter-in-law.”

Gervaise placed the lid on the teapot. “My uncle expects me to marry an heiress,” he said conversationally. “But I’m not going to. I’m going to marry Caroline. I suggest cutting Mother Dearest off from your company. I predict she would soon come around.”

“You don’t know my mum,” Jeb answered gloomily. “She’s more pride than the devil.”

Gervaise shrugged. “Is Effie’s friendship worth having, would you say?”

“Course it is.” Gervaise’s steady gaze seemed to unnerve Jeb for he looked uncomfortable. “There’s none truer,” he added in a low voice. “She won’t let you down when you’re in a bind. There’s many a time—” His words seemed to die on his tongue and his gaze skittered away.

“Well,” Gervaise said briskly. “That’s good to hear, as Effie is to take up a senior role here behind the bar. Ralph thinks very highly of her, so I am glad to hear you corroborate his opinion. If I am not mistaken, she will also be offered living quarters, so she will be entirely independent of you. Your mother is not the only one with pride, you know.”

Jeb’s expression grew more troubled. “God damn it,” he swore wildly. “I never touched another woman except to escort her to church like my mother asked! It was nothing! Nothing at all!”

Gervaise gave him a wintry smile. “It’s not me you need to convince,” he answered, retrieving a Sevres teacup and saucer from his pockets. “And I fear Effie has lost faith in you.”

When he walked back into the bedroom a quarter of an hour later, Gervaise found Caroline lying on her side, stroking Remus’s soft belly. His purr could be heard right across the room. Romulus gave an irritated chirrup from behind him and ran to take a flying leap onto the bed, almost landing on his unfortunate brother.

“No, Romulus, leave him be!” Caroline scolded. She shielded Remus with her arm as Romulus paced restlessly up and down the bed. “You are too rough with your brother!” She tutted as poor Remus jumped down from the bed with an injured air. Naughty Romulus followed him and pounced on his tail.

“Budge up,” Gervaise said, kicking off his slippers and climbing into Caroline’s side of the bed. He held her teacup up high as she shifted sideways on the mattress. “I don’t want to spill your tea.”

“You are taking my spot!” she pointed out.

“Mmm, I know, it’s nice and warm.”

“Wretch! Brrrr! Your side of the bed is cold,” she complained.

“Come here, then,” he offered generously. “Between my legs.”

She eyed him suspiciously as she shuffled closer, but he arranged himself behind her with scrupulous politeness passing her her cup of tea. “Rest your back against my front,” he encouraged her. “Use me for a stack of pillows.”

She lay back on him. “Like this?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, I must say, this is vastly comfortable from my point of view,” she sighed, taking a sip of tea.

“I find I like it too,” he said huskily, slipping his arms about her waist.

“Being my stack of pillows?”

“Why not? I might start purring like Remus.”