Chapter 1 #2
“And which one were you describing so fulsomely?” Atherton asked, crouching down and casting a sweeping eye over the council of officers. “I can see none present who would inspire such rhapsodies.”
“Not one of my soldiers,” Teddy hastened to explain. “None of them are pretty!” He did not seem inclined to hand Miss Pomfrey over to Lord Atherton. Instead, he lifted her so Lord Atherton could see the little doll. “Pinky made her for me.”
“Ah, the excellent Miss Pinson,” Atherton said, holding out his hand expectantly. Rather grudgingly, Teddy handed the doll over. Atherton inspected her. “I see,” he commented. “Quite the little coquette, isn’t she?” He passed her back. “I expect the whole regiment is panting after her.”
His eyes met Caroline’s, and for some reason, she felt hot and prickly all over. Silly really. It was not as though she was the one who decided Miss Pomfrey should be irresistible to men, she thought indignantly.
“No,” Teddy asserted firmly. “I would not stand for that. It would lead to insub—to insip—to a lack of discipline in the ranks,” he concluded grandly.
“It is only Captain Gerrard who has fallen victim to Miss Pomfrey’s charms,” Caroline explained, then wished she had held her tongue, for Lord Atherton turned back to her again.
“Dear me, poor Gerrard,” he tutted dryly. “And has she led him very badly astray?” he enquired.
“Yes,” Teddy answered promptly. “Just now the panel found her brother not guilty of deri—deri—” He flung a look of appeal Caroline’s way.
“Dereliction of duty,” she supplied helpfully.
“Yes, that. Only, he probably was derelict,” he said darkly. “Gerrard fudged the evidence so that he should not have to go to prison.”
“At the behest of Miss Pomfrey, one presumes?”
Teddy nodded. “Yes, she’s a wild woman and Captain Gerrard cannot get enough of her,” he explained solemnly.
Caroline steadfastly refused to meet Lord Atherton’s eye.
Mercifully, refreshments were served at this point.
Two impeccably dressed maids entered the room carrying trays of fresh baked scones and bowls of cream and jam, and a beautiful Sevres tea service.
They transferred the dishes onto some low tables, and Lady Faris stood up, inviting everyone to move to the center of the room to partake in afternoon tea.
Teddy scrambled to his feet. “Hurry, Miss Halperston,” he urged. “We don’t want to get left with the blackcurrant jam.”
Caroline stood up and made haste to follow his lead, leaving Atherton to saunter in their wake.
Soon everyone was seated in a circle, drinking tea and chattering politely.
Caroline stayed close to Teddy, sitting between him and Reverend Ryland.
Lord Atherton sat next to Viscountess Faris, who he appeared to be on excellent terms with and addressed as Emmeline.
Viscount Faris appeared shortly after, resplendent in a blue silk tailcoat.
No sooner had he bent his blond head over the sofa to kiss his wife than he slid seamlessly into the role of host, urging everyone to eat their fill and reminding everyone that the only acceptable way to eat scones was to apply jam first, and then cream.
“Budge up, Gervaise,” he said, dropping down onto the sofa next to his wife.
“That was one of the first things I learned when I moved to Penarth,” said Lady Faris. “How to eat scones the right way.”
“Unless you’re from Devon,” Teddy stated, slathering jam liberally onto his scone. “They do it the other way around.” He pushed the dish of strawberry jam toward Caroline.
“I expect Pomfrey eats his scones cream first,” Caroline murmured, earning a grin from Teddy.
“What is that you are whispering, Caroline?” her mother asked peevishly. “It’s very rude to do that in company.”
“We are speaking of someone you do not know, Mrs. Needham,” Teddy responded quickly. “An acquaintance of ours you would not have heard of.”
Mama was not pleased with this answer, Caroline could see, but she did not like to insist the heir to Vance Park shared their confidences. Caroline thought it wise to adopt silence after this point lest she incited her to further complaint.
After eating, Lord Faris suggested everyone adjourn to the library to inspect the progress on his wife’s portrait.
“Pray do not feel obligated on my account,” Lady Faris said, pouring out another cup of tea. “Gervaise and Teddy have already seen it and Caroline will not wish to look at it again, for she saw it only last week when she visited.”
In the end Jeremy led the vicar and his wife and Mrs. Needham out of the room to see the portrait while the others stayed put in the drawing room. Lord Atherton and Lady Faris remained where they were chatting, whilst Caroline and Teddy drifted back to the toy soldiers.
This time they set about constructing a temporary camp for them until they returned to their fort in the nursery.
This necessitated the appropriation of a few cushions and a blanket which Teddy draped over the back of the sofa.
He darted out of the room to fetch an assortment of books which he claimed would make excellent tents.
Caroline stood the soldiers up in tidy formation while she waited for his return.
Five minutes later he reentered the room with an armful of books and dropped down beside her to start opening them up and standing them on their edges. Caroline joined in and they had soon made a circle of ten or so “tents” by the time the others returned.
The vicar was pontificating about something, most likely the composition of the portrait as they entered the room.
“—which makes the grove of trees particularly effective in the backdrop,” he summed up.
Caroline was listening with half an ear as she started to slide the soldiers into their “tents” when her mother let out a blood-curdling scream, clutching her hand to her bosom.
Caroline came quickly to her feet. “Mama?” Oh God. Was it her heart? Perhaps she had not been exaggerating all this time about her palpitations.
“My shawl!” her mother cried, pointing a dramatic finger to a pretty Norwich silk shawl draped over the edge of a chair. “The one which Edgar gifted me for my birthday. Oh no, no, no!” The last was a dramatic wail.
Had something been spilled on it? Caroline wondered as, along with the other guests, she crossed the room to see what was wrong.
“It’s been cut!” her mother gasped. “Someone has taken a pair of scissors to it!” She snatched it up and clasped it to her breast with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Caroline, how could you? I know you were always jealous of it but to destroy it in such a wanton fashion is beyond the pale!
“I saw you walking toward it as we left the room. I thought you had a mind to borrow it which I would not have minded, but I never dreamed you would be so—so viciously cruel.” The last was uttered shakily as tears ran down Mama’s pink and white face.
Caroline’s mouth opened and closed. “But I—I never—” She gazed in shocked dismay at the mutilated shawl. “I can’t imagine how—”
But of course, she knew full well who had cut the shawl.
Mama. It was one of her old tricks, merely a variation of kicking Caroline under the table and then crying out as though she herself was the victim.
Why would you do such a thing, Caroline?
She had been bewildered as a child but by now she knew the drill.
Now she came to think of it, had she not seen Mama placing a little pair of sewing scissors in her reticule before they left home? Strangely the realization cooled her cheeks. The axe had finally fallen. She had been waiting for it all afternoon.
Mrs. Ryland hurried to her mother’s side, flinging a protective arm about her and glaring at Caroline, her bosom heaving with indignation. “Such wickedness!” she hissed as Lady Faris’s voice lifted in conciliatory tones.
“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?”