Page 120 of A Foolish Flirtation

“But I do think it will be a fitful and disturbed sleep until she is assured of Teddy’s safe return,” Emmie said, seeing Teddy’s palpable dismay.

Jeremy gave her a level look. “What do you suggest, then?”

“I think Teddy should be bathed and put in his nightclothes and then allowed to see her for ten minutes only,” Emmie said with decision.

Teddy gasped, clutching at his father’s sleeve hopefully. “Papa?”

“Very well, but consider yourself extremely fortunate, young man.”

“I do. Thank you, Mama,” he said politely.

“You will take your supper in the nursery this evening and have an extremely early night,” Jeremy added.

Teddy lowered his eyes and wished Emmie a subdued “Good night.”

Jeremy nodded to her and then escorted his son from the room. Emmie returned to her seat, judging her husband was best placed to deal with this situation without her trailing in their wake. Indeed, she was touched that he had deferred to her judgment at all.

Picking up her book, she tried once more to lose herself in The Haunting of Jennings Hall. It was not easy, and when Mrs. Cheviot tiptoed into the room to ask about Master Teddy, she was glad to cast it aside and explain that Colfax’s deductions had been proved correct.

Mrs. Cheviot pursed her lips, but there was a decided gleam in her eyes as she retreated, no doubt intent on spreading the word in the servants’ quarters. Emmie went up to change before dinner, donning a gown she had not worn before of cream satin decorated with rows of green silk leaves and extravagant pink roses.

She was perhaps a touch overdressed for dining at home, but they were expecting guests at dinner—Amos and Nellie Tavistock and the vicar and his wife. Considering what had happened, she supposed the Rylands might not show up, given both their sons were now in disgrace.

It turned out however that the Reverend Ryland and his wife were very keen to attend and assure their hosts that both Clarence and Frederick were receiving appropriate punishment for their part in the crime. Jeremy, when he finally appeared, listened very seriously to what the vicar had to say and then suggested that the boys had succumbed to the promptings of youthful folly rather than any terrible wickedness.

Mrs. Ryland looked visibly relieved, while the vicar squared his shoulders and suggested that his eldest, Clarence, more than likely deserved the lion’s share of the blame, as he was the oldest of the three boys and “likely the ringleader.” Jeremy refused the opportunity to apportion blame and said he was sure that all three boys must be equally at fault and held accountable, despite Amos Tavistock’s determination to make light of the situation, asserting that “boys will be boys” and telling several tales of his own boyhood misdemeanors.

After smiling politely at the older gentleman’s exploits, Jeremy explained to the Rylands that Teddy had been sent to bed early and would forfeit the privilege of riding over to his lessons for the foreseeable future. Starting tomorrow, one of the grooms would drop him off and pick him up each day in the trap. Mrs. Ryland opined that Master Teddy would feel this punishment “very keenly,” and Jeremy agreed but pointed out that such privileges were earned, and Teddy had showed himself sadly undeserving of such trust.

Reverend Ryland looked much struck by this and sent a few thoughtful glances Emmie’s way over the next two courses. When they took their leave at the end of the night, he shook her hand, and told her that he believed she was exerting a beneficial influence over Vance Park. Emmie was startled and wondered if he was referring primarily to the fact they now sat in the Vance family pew every Sunday.

When she voiced this suspicion later, while seated at her dressing table, Jeremy snorted. “More like he attributes my responsible parenting to your improving influence.”

Emmie lowered her hairbrush. “Oh, but that’s nonsense! You have always been a good father, I am sure.”

He nodded. “Yes, I like to think so, but mind you, I never fostered such close contact with the vicarage before now. The vicar never dined here before, so he is probably wholly in ignorance of my excellent parenting.”

“He’s never dined here before?”

He shook his head. “Amanda was wholly contemptuous of ‘provincial company.’ It’s probably just as well. The one time Edgar Needham dined with us, she drank too much, sat on his lap, and embarrassed the poor lad with her blatant overfamiliarity. The whole thing was an unmitigated disaster.”

Emmie found herself remembering Lord Atherton saying Amanda had either issued tantrums or indecent proposals. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said awkwardly.

Jeremy shrugged. “I always knew Amanda was an errant flirt. I have been something of a flirt myself in the past. I’ve always believed it to be a harmless practice in the main, but then I knew that neither of us would remain remotely faithful in our marriage.” Emmie tried to hide her reaction to these words but realized she had failed miserably when he added, “It’s often the case in fashionable marriages, Ballentine.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she answered primly before she could stop herself.

He shrugged. “How about yours?” he asked after a heavy pause.

“Mine?” she asked in confusion. “You mean Humphrey? He was not remotely flirtatious.”

For a moment, Jeremy looked as though he had swallowed something rather unpleasant. “You were never married to Stockton, Emmeline,” he said tensely. “Must I point that out to you?”

“No, of course not!” She turned in her seat to look at him. “What—then what did you mean?”

“I was harkening back to the subject of fathers,” he explained rather tersely.

“Oh. Sorry.” She considered the subject, trying to match Jeremy’s impartial tone when he said he had been a flirt in the past. Had he flirted with Squire Pebmarsh’s daughters? she suddenly wondered, remembering Mrs. Needham’s subtle, insinuating comments on that subject. Horrid, sly words that were hard to pin down.