Page 57 of A Much Maligned Miss

“And what would those entail?” she asked encouragingly.

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Initiation rites, that sort of thing.”

“Such as?” she persisted.

He sighed, clearly uninterested in the subject. “If memory serves, sparagmos and omophagia.”

She propped her chin on her hand. “And what are those?”

“Dismemberment and the ingestion of raw meat,” he answered heavily.

She pulled a face. “Ugh! How horrid! Why should they wish to practice such things?”

“To achieve the same ends as most cults of that kind.” He shrugged. In answer to her questioning look, he added, “Spiritual enlightenment.”

“Seems a funny sort of way to go about it!”

“No doubt.”

“I am not sure I am at all flattered that you should compare me to a maenad now!” she admitted.

“Were you flattered, my sweet?” he asked, a glint in his eye.

“Of course! No one had ever told me I resembled anything remotely mythological before.”

“Really? But then, you were surrounded on all sides by some remarkably dull people,” he reminded her.

“Yes,” she agreed, then shook her head. “Well, no, that’s not really true,” she added conscientiously. “Reverend Ryland is said to be an expert on ancient scrolls, and my mother is not precisely dull. She’s sort of…twisted, I’ve come to realize. You found her rather interesting I seem to recall.” Her eyes avoided his as Gervaise leaned back in his chair.

“She’s not one-tenth as interesting as her daughter.”

“Hah!” Caroline scoffed. “You say that now!”

“It’s true.”

“You did not find me interesting at all! You merely thought me a damsel in distress.”

He gave a startled laugh at that. “My God, do you really imagine I would have run away with you if I had thought that?”

“Well…”

“Your mother’s only interesting feature was how poisonous she was. Hardly an attractive feature.”

“Apparently she was terribly beautiful in her youth,” she answered.

“I highly doubt that,” Gervaise answered dismissively. “At best she would have possessed a superficial prettiness that was rather cloying. You are nothing like her, thank the lord.”

“No,” she agreed, then hesitated. “Though earlier today it did occur to me that, well…telling lies could be rather fun.” She swallowed. “Maybe that was how Mama started out until she became eventually consumed by them.”

He looked amused, in spite of himself. “Why my precious, what lies have you been telling?” he asked, and she could see the smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, nothing dreadful,” she said evasively. “Just the usual ones.”

“Usual ones?” he queried.

“Why, that I am Miss Pomfrey, of course,” she said airily. “And have had an entire company of soldiers at my mercy. And a captain of the guard who was greatly desirous of my hand in marriage, but I threw him over to accept your indecent proposal instead.”

He gave a choked laugh. “How very imprudent of you!” The laughter quickly faded from his eyes, though the smile remained as he asked silkily, “And just who were you telling these tall tales?” His eyelids drooped, masking his expression. “That artist, Bailey?”