Page 79 of A Much Maligned Miss

Suddenly, Caroline realized what was wrong with the picture in her head. The skirts spread out beneath the stricken figure were a blue-gray color. She had never owned a gown in that shade of blue. No, the gown was the precise color of the maidservant’s gowns at Benham Hall. Caroline gasped. She stood up, dropping the wooden peg and its miniature dress through her suddenly nerveless fingers.

The vision was not her lying dead on the ground, but Sophy.

“Caroline?” Gervaise’s voice broke through her frightened thoughts and she whipped around. “What is it? What is wrong?” he asked sharply, coming to her side. “Did Bailey say something? Do something?”

She gave a start. “No, no, of course not. Y-you must not think…” She faltered inarticulately.

“My darling, what is it? What is wrong?” he asked, pulling her into his arms. To her own shock and embarrassment, she burst into violent tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” she sobbed. “I had a bad dream, and I cannot stop thinking about it this morning…”

He pressed the back of her head until she rested it on his chest and rocked her against him. “Shush, do not upset yourself,” he murmured comfortingly. “You have a bad head? You feel anxious, yes? It’s just the champagne. It can affect you like that. In truth, you have been through something of an upheaval, and it was all bound to catch up with you sooner or later.”

She sniffed. “Perhaps. I don’t know. I can’t seem to get it into proportion at all.”

He stood there with her for a while with his arms about her. “You do know I’m going to take good care of you,” he murmured, stroking her hair which was loose.

“Yes.”

“I mean always, Caroline. I’m always going to take care of you.”

She hesitated, lifting her head. “Gervaise…”

“Atherton?” It was Ralph’s voice carrying across the saloon. “Are you ready for the off?”

Gervaise swore beneath his breath. “Allow me two minutes!” he shouted back.

“You have business to see to this morning?” Caroline asked, attempting to disentangle herself. He resisted, keeping a firm hold of her.

“Of a sort,” he said, pulling a face. “Ralph and I are to do the rounds at the clubs.”

“To speak of the grand opening?”

“In a way, but not of the gin palace. Polite society would have no interest in that.” In answer to her look of query, he explained succinctly. “The gaming room upstairs.”

“Oh, I see.”

“We are counting on Ewell to drum up interest among his acquaintance for the bar and saloon. But what is this?” Gervaise said, finally letting go of her to reach down for the little wooden peg adorned with its frilly gown.

“Oh, it’s nothing. A mere trifle.” She tried to take it from him, but he eluded her, bringing it to his face for closer examination.

“You are making a doll?”

“No! It is… Well, if you must know I have decided to make a bridal gown for Miss Pomfrey. For Teddy’s version of Miss Pomfrey. For the little doll his governess gave him. You remember he showed it to you that time we were all at Vance Park?” Why was she babbling so foolishly? Caroline wondered, feeling her cheeks turn red. “I’m going to post it to Vance Park in a little box done up in tissue paper for a gift.”

“A bridal gown for Miss Pomfrey,” Gervaise repeated thoughtfully. “I see.”

“It’s not— I don’t mean—”

“Should you like something like this? It’s quite an eye-catching confection,” he said, turning the peg doll to take in the rows of pleated pink ribbon that made up the stiff bell-shaped skirt.

“No, of course not!” she replied, stung. “It is quite ridiculous! I just thought that it might amuse the child, that was all.”

She could not quite meet Gervaise’s eye. “I rather like it myself,” he said surprisingly.

“You do?”

“Are you making her a veil and bouquet? I think she will need all the accoutrements.”