Page 55 of The Undaunted
“Ah, there you are,” Lady Easton said, “you’ve come round.”
“But what—”
“There now, do not speak. You fell in a faint in the drawing room. I was inclined to send for the doctor, but Bemmy insists it is not at all necessary. She is convinced it is only a matter of not having had enough tea to drink. I did not know this myself, but apparently wine depletes the body of tea at an alarming rate. We did have three types of wine at dinner and I do not believe you touched your tea in the drawing room.”
Caroline attempted to parse Lady Easton’s words. As far as she could make out, she had fainted dead away as she stood by the pianoforte. Somebody had got her up the stairs, and then Bemmy had told some nonsensical story about tea and wine.
“Don’t you worry, miss,” Bemmy said. “I’ve already given orders for a tea tray to be made up and I’ll stay by your side all the night long.”
“You really are too good, Bemmy,” Lady Easton said. “You are quite the comfort.”
“I would suggest, my lady,” Bemmy said, “that you get some rest. No use two of us losing sleep.”
“Please do, Lady Easton,” Caroline said. “I do not know why I should have fainted, but now I am only tired.”
“I suppose getting some rest would be sensible,” Lady Easton said. “Now Bemmy, you are to wake me regarding the slightest change. Do not hesitate a moment to do it. I’ll send Easton to sleep in his dressing room and so you may knock on my door as loud as necessary. I wish to be kept apprised if there is any change at all.”
“Right you are, my lady,” Bemmy said.
Lady Easton squeezed Caroline’s hand and rose.
Caroline said. “Lady Easton, I am sorry if I caused a scene in the drawing room. It must have been unpleasant, and you had worked so hard to make the evening a success.”
Lady Easton smiled. “There is no cause for that sort of talk, Caroline. The party was wholly convinced that you collapsed under the stress of being wrongly accused by gossiping tongues. By the morrow, you will be painted as Claudio’s young Hero, horribly wronged and courageously withstanding the onslaught of vicious talk. You have perhaps done what not even a pineapple could do, you will be entirely vindicated.”
With that, Lady Easton let herself out of the room.
Caroline looked toward Bemmy. “I did not feel well, dizzy and sick, and then Lord Bertridge came to the pianoforte and gave me a terrible scolding. It was all too much, I suppose.”
“A scolding?” Bemmy said. “He didn’t look very scolding when he carried you up here. He looked terrified, if you ask me.”
Caroline’s face flamed at the idea of Lord Bertridge being forced to carry her up the stairs when he’d probably wished to throw her down them. Of course it would be him called upon to do it—the other gentlemen of the party were too old and Bramley, well that would have been ridiculous and he’d never have managed it.
“What on earth was the fellow scolding you about at a party?” Bemmy asked, folding her arms.
Caroline related the awful set down, at least as much as she could bear repeating.
A usual maid might have trembled over the idea that a lord of the house had spotted them at the exhibition and made stern remarks about it. Bemmy chose another direction. She was positively outraged.
“He saidthat?” she huffed. “I see. I suppose we’re to know that Lord Starched-Pants never puts a foot wrong, are we? I suppose Lord Stone-Face is as pious as the archbishop! I reckon the Earl of Frowns delights in sharing his dark moods liberally. I imagine the Prince of Miserable can’t bear to see anybody otherwise. As far as I’m concerned, Sir Moody wallows in his own perfection like a pig in a pen.
“That is perhaps enough name calling, Bemmy.”
Bemmy nodded, though Caroline was certain the maid had a whole host of other derogatory names waiting to be announced.
“I’m only sayin,’ I wouldn’t mind blacking his other eye.”
Caroline decided to ignore the idea that her lady’s maid wished to wallop a lord of the house. Rather, she said, “Lord Bertridge urged me to forgo speaking to Lady Easton about any of this, but rather to work very hard to be a credit to her from now on.”
“As if you ain’t been,” Bemmy fumed. “And didn’t you already vow to go on the straight and narrow without any talking from him?”
“Indeed I did,” Caroline said, “and I am determined to do it.”
“Well, all right,” Bemmy said. “Never mind Baron Sternfellow’s lecture. He’s at least right about letting the matter lie quiet. Rest now and I’ll go down and see about that tea tray.”
Caroline nodded gratefully as Bemmy bustled from the room.
In the stillness that followed the closing of the door, Caroline could hear Lord Bertridge’s voice in her ears all over again. He had not been just aggravated, as he had been in the past. This was different. He positively disdained her. He was revolted by her behavior. He may not have come out and said so, but he utterly condemned her.
