Page 112 of A Much Maligned Miss

“Edgar!” Caroline blurted in shock, realizing it was none other than her brother. “What in heavens has brought you here?”

“Caro?” her brother said in a choked voice. “Is that…really you?”

She was distracted from replying by the sight of the other man stepping forward. You could not mistake that handsome face beneath the burnished gold of his hair. “Lord Faris!” she blurted in surprise. What was he doing here?

“Miss Halperston,” he responded after a moment’s hesitation. He eyed her ringless hand for one awful moment and a certain rigidity entered his bearing. He glanced around before asking carefully, “Am I correct in assuming Gervaise is somewhere in the vicinity?”

“Er…yes,” Caroline agreed, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise up in warning. This was not good. She lifted her chin and attempted to brazen it out. “He is currently employed in a new business venture and I’m afraid you cannot see him.” She felt her color rise under Lord Faris’s continued scrutiny.

“Where is he?” he asked quietly.

Caroline swallowed. “Upstairs.” He nodded and turned curtly on his heel, stalking off. She had no doubt that he would swiftly gain admittance to the private gambling rooms. Oh dear. He wasn’t going to challenge Gervaise to a duel, was he? No, she was being foolish. Lord Faris was not responsible for her well-being. That dubious honor fell to… She turned to her brother, who was still regarding her open-mouthed.

“Edgar,” she said unhappily. “What could have possessed you to come here?”

“Well,” he spluttered, “is it so surprising that your family should pursue you London?” His voice was hoarsely indignant, but he kept it low enough that none should overhear him. “I must say, I thought this all a mare’s nest of Faris’s. I scarcely credited it, but now I find…”

His disbelieving gaze swept over her ill-gotten finery. He swallowed, his gaze sweeping wider to take in the full spectacle of their surroundings. Caroline tried to imagine how it must appear through Edgar’s eyes, perhaps a little gaudy, garish even. “My God,” he whispered. “Is that you?”

Caroline turned her head and realized he was staring at the large painting of the maenad lolling in her chariot with flushed cheeks and wild eyes. “Yes, as a matter of fact it is. Rather good, isn’t it?”

“Good?” Edgar repeated blankly. “Caro…” He shook his head in disbelief.

She tutted. “You look almost blue with cold, Edgar. Did you come to town on the stagecoach? Were you forced to sit in a draught the whole way?”

When Edgar continued to regard her speechlessly, Reg cleared his throat, letting his presence be known. “Miss Caroline? Anything I can do for you?”

“Thank you, Reg, my brother requires a snifter of brandy. Would you be an angel and fetch him one from the bar? It would be a great kindness. I fear he will catch a chill if he does not warm up soon.”

Reg drew himself up and Caroline realized he was about to refuse to leave her side. At that moment, Caroline heard a door slam shut and turned her head to see Gervaise stride into the bar, Lord Faris in tow. Inexplicably, she felt herself relax as he walked toward her.

“Needham,” he said shortly, nodding at her brother, but otherwise ignoring Edgar, who had turned an unbecoming shade of red. Gervaise laid a propriety hand on Caroline’s bare shoulder. “Do not stir a step from this bar until I say so,” he said softly. “Am I understood?”

“Oh, perfectly,” she responded, laying her own hand on top of his. She thought his expression turned a little less grim.

“Good. I am going to sit over there and talk a moment with Jeremy, but I want you to remain in my sight at all times.”

She nodded, and he and Lord Faris moved to a quiet corner near the bar. Caroline turned back to Reg, who also looked greatly relieved by this turn of events. “Reg?”

“Yes, miss,” he relented. “I’ll go and fetch you that brandy.” He shot a suspicious look in Edgar’s direction. “I’ll only be one minute,” he added heavily. Edgar’s eyes widened with alarm.

“I don’t know why they act like I am about to drag you away!” Edgar said tetchily. “When it is entirely the other way around!”

Caroline ignored him, watching Lord Faris’s rigid bearing. He looked angry. She bit her lip. She hoped he and Gervaise were not arguing. In that moment, Gervaise looked across, his eyes meeting hers for a long moment. She wondered what message he was attempting to convey with his hard stare. Possibly, don’t go far. She nodded and thought she saw his shoulders relax infinitesimally.

“Edgar,” she said, turning back to her brother impulsively. “Let us try and find a booth near the fireplace, so you can warm up.”

“Er, perhaps we should wait until that ruffian returns,” Edgar answered nervously.

“Everything alright, Caroline?” It was Effie, purple skirts rustling, who swept to a halt beside them, arm in arm with Vi in her gown of puce crepe.

“Oh, yes of course,” Caroline hurried to assure her. “This is—well, this is my brother, Edgar. Edgar, these are my friends Effie and Violet.”

They both turned to look at him with interest. “We’ve heard all about you, ain’t we, Eff,” Vi said. “You’re not in uniform tonight though. Pity. I like a man in uniform.” Edgar blinked.

“You ain’t been sent down, have you?” Effie asked. “Only we heard as how you’re always being court-martialed.”

Edgar threw a helpless look of bewilderment Caroline’s way but luckily Reg arrived at this point with a large brandy. Edgar seized hold of it and knocked it back with alacrity.