Chapter 17
A knock on the door twenty minutes later heralded the arrival of an uncouth individual Gervaise could only suppose was Jeb’s cousin Reg.
He had brought along fresh linens for the bed and gawped openly at Caroline, who had removed her bonnet and cloak and was now striving to tidy her hair in a tiny shaving mirror pinned to the wall.
“Got yer luggage here an’ all, milord,” he said, tearing his eyes away from Caroline and setting the cases down all in a heap.
“So, I see.” Gervaise reached into his pocket and retrieved a coin. “Here, for your pains. Reg, isn’t it?”
The other man brightened, closing his meaty fist tightly over the shiny silver coin. “That’s right, milord. I’ll just fetch up some kindlin’ and a bucket of coal for your fire in here. You—er—want the one lit in the bedroom too?”
“Yes,” Gervaise replied shortly. “We do.”
Reg stomped back out again, and Caroline turned away from the mirror. “I should follow him down and fetch the cats,” she said, moving toward the door.
“Stay where you are,” Gervaise said swiftly. She looked at him with surprise. “Get yourself settled in,” he suggested in a milder tone. “Unpack your clothes. “I’ll bring them up.” She nodded and made for her carpet bag instead.
Descending the stairs, Gervaise let himself soundlessly into the scullery where Reg was stooped shoveling coal into a scuttle while Jeb was stood drying his hands over by the sink.
“…lady, you say,” Jeb said scornfully. “Don’t be daft, Reg. She ain’t no lady. If she was, she wouldn’t be warming ’is lordship’s bed now, would she?”
Gervaise let the door swing shut, and Jeb whipped about, a surprised expression on his face.
“I hate to contradict you, Morris, but your cousin is quite right,” Gervaise said silkily. “Miss Pomfrey is a lady, and I will not tolerate her being treated as anything but a lady while she remains under my protection, is that quite clear?”
“Clear as day, milord,” Jeb answered with a shrug and an easy smile that did not touch his eyes.
“That’s good, because if it was not…” Gervaise let his words linger as he appeared to consider the consequences. “Well, let’s just say The Citadel would be engaging new doormen on the morrow.”
Jeb’s smile faded slightly but he was a cool customer, Gervaise could see that.
If he was not, he might have tried arguing that his friend Barty Ewell might have something to say about that, but instead he just flung the tea towel over his broad shoulder and leaned back against the sink.
“Understood,” he said mildly. “I’ll mind my p’s and q’s around her. ”
Gervaise smiled his chilliest smile. “I can’t see that you’ll have much occasion to address her at all.” Jeb smirked and nodded but otherwise held his tongue.
“Got your coal here, milord,” Reg said, straightening up. “I’ll get to lighting them fires.”
“Good man.” Without further ado, Gervaise went in search of the cats. By the time he had rounded them up and climbed back up the stairs he found the fire in the sitting room lit and guessed Reg was working on the other.
Closing the door behind him, he set the cats down and frowned at the sound of Caroline’s voice.
Who was she talking to? Could it be Ralph had returned?
Walking through to the bedroom, he was somewhat taken aback to find Caroline chattering away to Reg as she placed her folded clothes into the chest of drawers.
“It’s my first time in London, you see,” he heard her say brightly. “Before now I’ve only ever been as far as Exeter. Have you ever been to Exeter, Reginald?”
Gervaise leaned against the door jamb, fixing a stern eye on them both.
“It’s just Reg, miss,” the lumbering oaf mumbled uncomfortably. Gervaise could see even from the doorway that the back of his neck was very red.
“Well, in that case you must call me Caroline,” she responded.
“Caroline,” Gervaise cut in smoothly. “Leave Reg to his work now and come and keep me company. The twins are looking for you.”
“I’ll speak to you later, Reg,” she said, rounding the bed and flinging a friendly smile his way. The oaf gulped, darted a guilty look in Gervaise’s direction, and mumbled something intelligible.
Oh no you won’t, Gervaise thought grimly. He was frankly shocked that Miss Halperston should see fit to conduct herself in such a manner. He had expected to be soothing her maidenly anxieties right now, not dragging her away from conversation with cockney ruffians!
And in the bedroom no less, he thought, faintly outraged as he followed her back into the sitting room.
Not that he would have expected to find her cowering in a corner in an agony of affronted virtue.
She was not the heroine out of one of those ridiculous novels the Farises persisted in reading, but still!
He would have expected her to be pale and resolute in the face of her predicament. To be tiptoeing about the place and preparing herself to have a serious talk with him once they were alone, not chirping away merry as a cricket to an uncouth lout loitering in her own bedchamber!
No, it was all wrong, he thought, frowning.
Caroline Halperston ought to be taking a firm line with him.
She should be looking to either confront him and demand he act like a true gentleman toward her, or to be bravely resigning herself to her fate with the air of a martyr upon the sacrificial altar.
She should not be swishing her skirts about her as she kissed and sweet-talked a cat.
He eyed her feeling perplexed as she set down Remus and scooped up Romulus, kissing his head.
“Have you been exploring, my boy?” she asked coaxingly.
She looked up and smiled at him, almost taking his breath away. What. The. Fuck.
Had she always been this damnably attractive?
A faint memory stirred. He had thought so once before, when had that been?
Not when he had been staring up at her from the courtyard at The Royal Oak.
No, that had just been the first time he had realized outright that he wanted her. It had been another occasion.
Perhaps when he had kissed her in the corridor at The Plough?
But no, it had not been then either, for that kiss had been something of nothing.
The merest peck of her lips. It had not been a kiss of seduction but of…
His mind went blank. Fondness? He considered the concept.
Did he like this woman? The question was an unwelcome one, for it had nothing whatsoever to do with attraction in his book. They were two separate things.
If he liked Caroline Halperston then the very last thing he ought to be doing was ruining her right now by seducing her. The realization sat uncomfortably with him, for despite his liking he did want that. He wanted it with a sudden ferocity he was entirely unaccustomed to.
He gave his head a faint shake. It would…
put him out to release her at this late point in the day and set her safely aside, he thought.
He would be disappointed. Extremely disappointed.
He did not actually know if he could bear with such a disappointment.
When had been the last time he had wanted something this much? he wondered in slight surprise.
And to want a someone like Caroline Halperston too? It was not even as though she was merely overlooked. No, she was actually a despised figure in her native Cornwall! Not through any fault of her own, it was true, but the fact remained she was friendless and wholly alone in the world.
Caroline dropped down into the armchair and patted her lap, calling to the kittens.
Behind her line of vision, Gervaise watched Reg creep out of the room with a hangdog expression.
All of a sudden, he remembered the occasion that had eluded him earlier.
It had been when she was out of her right mind on laudanum and had looked so sensuous and abandoned that she had reminded him of one of Dionysus’s followers.
That had been when he had first thought her an alluring prospect. Of course.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts and proved to be Ralph, carrying a chair in one hand, which had plainly been borrowed from the gentleman’s club room on the floor below, and a bottle of wine and two glasses in the other.
“You can’t both eat your dinner sat in that old armchair,” he said jovially.
“So, Jeb and I have brought you up one of the smaller tables and two chairs.”
Jeb, entering the room next, had a table in one hand and a chair in the other. “Where do want ’em?” he asked without ceremony.
“In here,” Gervaise decided. “Set them down over there.” There was little point in making one of the other rooms into an impromptu dining room. There were only fires lit in here and the bedroom.
“Effie is picking you up some dinner,” Ralph continued after setting down his chair.
“Effie?” he echoed.
“My woman,” Jeb supplied, setting down the table and chair. “She knows all the best eating spots in town.”
“Indeed, she does,” Ralph agreed, beaming. “She picks up a few duties here and there and has often fetched me a decent spot of supper. She fancies a job here as barmaid, as a matter of fact, isn’t that so, Jeb?” The other man grunted.
“Barmaid?” Gervaise repeated, raising a brow. For some reason he had imagined they would employ men in the role, like in the clubs.
“Oh, barmaids are increasingly popular these days, old chap,” Ralph asserted. “We will have porters in the private club, of course, and in the billiard room, but on the ground floor, I thought it might be an idea, you know?”
Gervaise shrugged. Likely Ralph knew more about such things than he.
“Effie’s quite a stunner too, is that not so, Jeb?
Flaming red hair and a ready tongue. She’d be an asset to the place and no mistake.
” Ralph gave a nervous laugh seeing Jeb’s sudden glower.
For some reason, Gervaise suddenly felt a whole lot better about Jeb.