Chapter 8
Gervaise awoke to the rattling of a teacup on a saucer. He squinted around to discover the offending party and found Caroline Halperston sitting in a chair by the window with a blanket draped over her.
“Good morning,” she greeted him serenely. “This ginger tea is actually quite good.”
“I rather doubt that. Especially cold,” he answered dryly.
“In fact, it’s much better cold,” she asserted. “I tried the veriest sip of it last night to please—um—”
“Mrs. Dawkins,” he supplied.
“Mrs. Dawkins,” she repeated gratefully, “and it nearly made me gag. This morning, however, I am drinking it with relish.” She took another sip. “It is quite pleasingly fragrant.”
“It sounds horrible,” Gervaise responded waspishly. “And moreover, I strongly object to being woken by your impromptu tea party at this ungodly hour.”
“The clock just struck seven,” she answered mildly. “Am I to take it that you wake every morning in such irritable spirits, or is it only when you have spent the previous night with three bedfellows?”
“Three…?” he repeated uncomprehendingly.
She gestured toward him with her teacup. “You are perhaps unaware, my lord, that you currently have two kittens sleeping on your chest.”
Gervaise blinked down at the black and gray balls of fluff curled up on his person. “Ah yes, they had momentarily slipped my mind,” he admitted.
“You acquired two cats somehow overnight?” she enquired with interest.
“I did. I won them in a hand of poker.”
Caroline lowered her teacup. “You won them?”
“I did. From an ostler called Ezekiel. I will make you a present of one of them, if you like.” He ran a finger over one tiny head. “The spotted one is called Remus and the striped, Romulus.”
“Really?” She sat up in her chair. Before he could reply, she said quickly, “Not that I could possibly accept such a gift. I do not yet know how I will support myself, let alone provide for another. But just in theory, if I were to take you up on your generous offer, which one would be mine?”
“Perhaps Romulus,” he mused, scooping the stripy cat up. “I believe I like Remus’s spots far too much to part with him.”
She frowned, setting her cup down on a side table. “You should not speak of separating them, my lord. Not after giving them such names. They are named after the twins from antiquity, are they not?”
“They are,” he agreed, watching the spotted kitten roll over onto its back and stretch out its little paws.
“Were they not suckled by a she-wolf? And did not one of them found the city of Rome?”
Remus’s mouth opened in a soundless meow. “Yes, those are the ones,” Gervaise confirmed.
“Well, there you have it, then,” Caroline insisted, stripping off her blanket. He noticed she was fully dressed beneath it. The question was, had she fled the bed in the middle of the night, overtaken with maidenly fears, or had she simply woken and dressed betimes?
She approached the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching over to stroke Romulus.
Gervaise suffered a strange and momentary disappointment.
For an instant, he had thought she had been reaching for him.
He watched her pet the cat through his lashes for a long moment before clearing his throat.
“Can you take the twins? I need to get up and wash.”
“There isn’t any water I’m afraid—” she began when a knock on the door startled them both. “Ah, this must be it now,” she said, scooping up both cats, one under each arm, and retreating to the other side of the bedchamber.
“Mornin’,” the maid greeted them, eyes downcast as she carried a large jug of steaming water into the room. “Mrs. Dawkins said as to inform you your breakfast will be served in the same parlor as last night’s supper.”
“Thank you,” Gervaise responded as she placed the jug on the washstand.
“Good morning,” Caroline said a trifle shyly. She angled her body to try to keep the cats out of view but from the maid’s checked step and carefully blank expression, Gervaise deduced she had spotted them all the same.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Gervaise climbed out of the bed and made his way to the washstand to begin his shave. Caroline gave a discreet cough. “I shall venture downstairs and give you room to dress, my lord,” she said helpfully. “Shall I leave the kittens with you?”
“You had better take one of them with you,” he said over his shoulder. “I will bring down the other anon.”
She crossed the room and placed one small cat back on the bed and then tucked the other into the crook of her arm. “I shall take Romulus, then,” she said, “leaving Remus to you. Which parlor is yours?”
“Ours,” he corrected her. “We’re married, remember? Don’t act too surprised when they address you as your ladyship.”
Looking rather appalled by this communication, she gulped and nodded. “We shall see you belowstairs,” she managed to gasp out, then fled.
Interesting, thought Gervaise. Perhaps the lady was not so calm and unruffled as she would have him believe.
When he joined her in their parlor twenty minutes later, he found her eating toast and marmalade whilst surreptitiously feeding bits of flaky fish to Romulus, who lay in her lap under the table.
Seeing such signs of favor, Remus started struggling in Gervaise’s arms, emitting faint meows and attempting to make a leap for the table. “You will have to take him,” he said, dropping the squirming fluffball into her lap. “He is outraged by your blatant favoritism.”
“My favoritism?” she queried as the kittens rearranged themselves in her lap. “I have no favorites here, I assure you. Here, Remus,” she crooned soothingly. “There’s plenty for you too.”
Gervaise took his seat opposite her and poured himself a cup of coffee.
Caroline, he noticed, was already halfway through another cup of tea.
He lifted the first of the dish covers to reveal thick sliced ham and scrambled eggs.
After helping himself liberally to both, he peered under the second cloche and found baked haddock topped with poached eggs.
Grimacing, he pushed this away and reached for toast instead.
“You do not care for fish?” Caroline said, spooning more of it onto a side plate.
“Not before midday.”
“I shall not feel guilty, then, for feeding it to the twins.” She placed her dish on the floor at her feet and set the cats down beside it. Leaning her elbow on the table, she arranged herself so that she could watch over them.
“You are finished eating already?” he asked. “Is that all you’ve had? Toast and marmalade?”
“I only ever eat toast and fruit for breakfast,” she answered, reaching again for the teapot and topping up her cup. “Tell me, how many miles will we cover today?”
“Just under eighty. The aim is to reach Bath tonight.”
She nodded and the door creaked open as Mrs. Dawkins appeared carrying a tray.
“Good morning, milord, milady,” she greeted them heartily.
“You’re looking a good deal better this morning, I’m glad to say, your ladyship.
You’ve got a nice bit of color in those cheeks,” she said with satisfaction.
“Eh, you did look a poorly thing last night and no mistake!”
“I am feeling so much better this morning,” Caroline assured her.
“Thanks to your solicitude. The ginger tea was excellent and really settled my—er—stomach.” She glanced apologetically at Gervaise while speaking of such matters at the breakfast table.
He shrugged and carried on tucking into his ham and eggs.
Mrs. Dawkins beamed. “There now, I told his lordship it would set you to rights, is that not so, milord?”
“You did indeed,” Gervaise corroborated.
“What have you there?” Caroline asked, peering with interest at the contents of the woman’s tray. Gervaise could already tell from the sour smell pervading his nostrils.
“’Tis vinegar rags. For your journey today, to stave off the sickness,” Mrs. Dawkins informed her promptly.
“How very kind!” Caroline responded at once, despite the fact Gervaise was pretty sure she did not suffer from travel sickness at all. No, Caroline had been dealing with the aftereffects of being drugged. Still, she could hardly inform the kindly landlady as much.
He considered her anew as she sat talking in an animated fashion to Mrs. Dawkins.
Already, the distance from Penarth seemed to be doing her good.
She was less insipid, somehow, less stifled.
His godson, of course, had always asserted that Miss Halperston was good company, once away from her mama. Perhaps Teddy had been right all along.
After breakfast they donned their outdoor things and watched their luggage being loaded back onto the coach. Their fellow traveler from before was absent this morning. Presumably Exeter had been his final destination. Instead, there now appeared a proper-looking mother and daughter bound for Bath.
Gervaise winced faintly at the sight of them. No chance of bribing them into taking a rooftop seat, he thought regretfully, seeing the mother take the postal officer aside. After a moment the officer approached him, clearing his throat.
“Excuse me, milord,” he said awkwardly. “Mrs. Hawtree has asked that an introduction be performed before you are to be confined in such close proximity with one another for the next few hours. I hope you will not consider this an imposition?”
“I do rather,” he answered truthfully. “However, far be it from me to cause any discomfort.”
“You are very good, milord,” the man said gratefully, casting a furtive look in the lady’s direction. Gervaise guessed the woman was something of a dragon. Introductions were performed all round, and they duly climbed into the carriage.
“Forgive me, my lord,” Mrs. Hawtree said with a thin-lipped smile once they were all settled into their seats. “I could not quite discern your relationship to Miss Pomfrey. You are her…?”
“I am her cousin, madam,” he replied briskly. “Her cousin, and for the length of this journey at least, her guardian.”
“I see.” She nodded, plainly pleased to have clarification. Gervaise suspected she would soon be touting it all around Bath that she had shared a carriage with Lord Atherton and his cousin. Fortunately, no one of consequence would be in Bath at this time of year.
Miss Chloe Hawtree was looking Caroline up and down.
Plainly, she did not think much of her sober traveling ensemble.
She sniffed and tossed her ringleted head before turning to Gervaise.
“We are going to stay with our cousins the Staversons in Rillington Street. Perhaps you have heard of them, my lord?”
“No,” he replied succinctly. He had never even heard of Rillington Street, let alone any Staversons. He felt Caroline poke him in his side. “But then, I rarely stay in Bath,” he added by way of consolation.
“We are bound for London,” Caroline said brightly.
“You are going for the London season!” Chloe gasped. “You lucky thing.”
“Not at all,” Gervaise interjected firmly.
“Penthesilia has long used up her London seasons I’m afraid and willfully squandered them.
” Caroline blinked at the unexpected criticism.
“You disagree, cousin?” he asked challengingly.
“If you had not, you would surely be married by now at six and twenty.”
“You are not married, cousin!” she pointed out. “Your own life appears to be a never-ending round of house parties. You must surely be thirty by now.”
“I am twenty-nine,” he corrected her. “And in any case, everyone knows it is altogether different for gentlemen. Is that not so, Mrs. Hawtree?”
Mother and daughter were now watching them avidly. Mrs. Hawtree with gathering disapproval and Miss Chloe with open envy. The woman cleared her throat. “Quite different!” she agreed heavily.
“Yet you will acknowledge, Mrs. Hawtree, that it is high time that my cousin here took a wife?” Caroline appealed. “It is his duty in fact and incumbent upon his position in life.”
Mrs. Hawtree shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Well, I hardly like to say!”
“I beg you will not lend her your support in this matter, Mrs. Hawtree,” Gervaise interrupted.
“In fact, and it pains me to say this, but we should keep our interactions to a minimum for the duration of this journey. I am sorry to say that my cousin is not at all a proper person for your daughter to associate with. She has formed a most unfortunate connection with a member of the militia and refuses to renounce the acquaintance.”
He eyed Caroline sidelong and watched her expression of indignation form. “I—” she began hotly.
“Do you deny your clandestine correspondence with one Captain Gerrard?”
“Certainly not!” she responded with spirit. “My heart belongs wholly to Captain Gerrard. And what’s more I fully intend to marry the man!”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“You don’t!” she retorted. “Neither you nor my disreputable brother can prevent me from marrying my one true love!”
Gervaise turned back to an appalled-looking Mrs. Hawtree. “You see, madam? What my family must contend with?”
Miss Chloe Hawtree gave an ecstatic sigh. “Oh, it’s as good as any novel,” she breathed.
“Chloe!” her mother snapped. “You will oblige me by keeping your attention away from our companions.” She looked across at Gervaise. “I thank you for your warning, my lord,” she said stiffly, “and must insist that we keep to ourselves from this point on.”
Gervaise inclined his head. “You are very wise, madam,” he murmured, and reaching into his deep pockets, retrieved the two kittens, passing one to Caroline.