Page 43 of A Much Maligned Miss

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.

“Well, well,” Ralph said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll wish you a good night. Jeb will send Effie up as soon as she arrives with your dinner.”

“Thank you so much,” Caroline said with a ready smile from the armchair. “Good night, Mr. Carstairs, Jebediah.”

“Oh, please call me Ralph!” Ralph protested as Jeb glowered.

“It’s just Jeb,” he growled. “No one calls me Jebediah except my ma.”

“Very well, good night, Ralph, good night, Jeb,” Caroline corrected herself, all smiles. Gervaise had no idea why he was suddenly feeling out of sorts. To distract himself, he carted his luggage through to the bedroom as Caroline played with the cats. He had just started carrying his shirts to the top drawer when he heard a knock at the door.

He paused in his task to listen and make sure it was Jeb’s woman and not Jeb or Reg.

“You must be Effie,” he heard Caroline say and returned to his task. He would let Caroline deal with this one.

“That’s right, darlin’. And I ’ear your name’s Caroline. Pleased to meet you, I’m sure.”

“What have you there?” he heard Caroline ask over the rustling of paper.

“I’ve got you a veritable feast, and no mistake,” the other responded. “This is a tub of ‘London particular,’ you know what that is?” she laughed and Gervaise guessed Caroline had replied in the negative. “It’s pea soup, darlin! But this ain’t that watery swill wot you get from some places. This is from Graysons, who put all the good stuff in. It’s got ham and mint and celery as well as peas and this ’ere is a loaf of rye bread, baked fresh today to have wiv’ it.

“That’s your first course, and then I got you a nice steak and kidney pie to follow, and this package ’ere is a porringer of mash. It’s good stuff, tasty, on account of how they put garlic in it from Timpson’s. My Jeb swears it’s the best in town. And to finish I got you each a plum duff. The pastry is just—mwah! On account of it’s from that posh patisserie in Bethnal Green. Mr. Carstairs, he swears it’s the best he’s ever ’ad and ’e should know on account of ’is being the son of a baron.”

“I look forward to trying it,” Caroline assured her.

“You’ll be feasting like kings tonight!” Effie predicted, and Gervaise waited for their farewells before emerging from the bedchamber.

Caroline looked up from the laden table. “Well, we certainly shan’t starve,” she said. “Effie seems nice and Ralph was quite right, she is stunning. I wonder that they did not think to ask her to model for their artist. Do you suppose we can give some of the steak from the pie to the kittens?”

They shared a tasty, if unusual meal. The bread and pastry was excellent and though Gervaise eschewed the pea soup, the rest of it was entirely palatable. He watched Caroline as they ate. She started to look grave by the time they reached the sweet course, and he poured them both a glass of wine as she set down her knife and fork.

“I wonder if we might talk of something now we have finished eating,” she said, clearing her throat.

“I am entirely agreeable. What would you like to discuss?”

“A frank discussion of my prospects, if you please,” she said bravely.

“Why, of course, my dear Caroline.” He smiled urbanely. “Nothing could be simpler.” Here it comes, he thought. Either the demand he made an honest woman of her or her resigned acceptance of his offer. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he was not sure which reply he would prefer. How absurd. When he had made it clear mere hours ago that he would not have his hand forced into marriage!