Page 96 of A Much Maligned Miss

“But I may wear it up here?” Caroline countered hopefully.

“You may.”

She looked pleased. “Should I put it on now or wait until after we have eaten?”

“Put it on now,” Gervaise said, glancing toward the fireplace. “I want to speak to Reg about ordering our supper.”

Caroline promptly disappeared into the dressing room and Reg straightened up, swinging the coal scuttle. “All done now, milord. Want me to feed Master Remus? Only the other one’s had his share already,” he said, glancing at Romulus, who was lying under the sofa, snagging his claws into the fancy fringing.

“No, I shall feed himself. I was told by an old groom of ours that one should always feed one’s beasts yourself, so they recognize you for their master.”

“Not sure that works with cats,” Reg said doubtfully and Gervaise laughed.

“You may be right.”

“I only fed Master Romulus ’cos he was tripping up all those pretty maids in the kitchen and making a rare nuisance of himself.”

Gervaise deduced he was referring to the new barmaids and nodded absently. “I’m sure you did right, but I will come down all the same. I need to do my duty and introduce myself to the newcomers. Come, Remus!”

A hunted look entered Reg’s eye. “Are they all to live here in the attics?” he asked hoarsely as they walked out of the room together, Remus on their heels. “The whole pack of them?”

“If not all, then a good few of them. Have you been displaced, Reg? I did not think anyone was sleeping in the dormitory.”

“Nah. I’ve been dossing down in the scullery, haven’t I, to keep an eye on the liquor in case of break-ins. Besides, I’ve never officially lived here. I’ve a room at my cousin’s place round the corner. Not Jeb’s,” he clarified. “He’s still hoping Effie will come back to him. I’m speaking of my cousin Doug.”

Gervaise paused at the top of the stairs. “I believe Jeb’s only hope for reconciliation at this point would be to produce a ring and a date in church.”

Reg squinted at him. “You think that would do the trick?”

“Effie’s far too many prospects to settle for anything less.”

Reg shook his head as they started down the stairs. “My aunt Kathy would never accept it.”

“You think not? A pity. Still, I am sure Effie will soon find new suitors aplenty. Now,” he said, in a swift change of subject. “Tell me about our new staff. Effie assures me they are a fine body of women.”

“I’m sure they are everything they ought to be,” Reg said, clearing his throat. “I’ve just got used to the way things were, with me, Jeb, and Effie and that wicked old woman what does the charring.”

“Change is a necessary part of life, Reginald,” Gervaise said, clapping a hand to Reg’s huge shoulder as they passed through the door and into the scullery. “We cannot allow ourselves to stagnate.”

Reg made a rumbling noise in his throat that could have been one of either agreement or disagreement as Gervaise busied himself preparing Remus’s supper. “That Gracie took some getting used to,” he reflected darkly. “They can’t be any worse than her.”

“Gracie is the charwoman?”

“Correct, milord.”

“Yes, I can see how she might be an acquired taste. Caroline tells me you have an admirer among the ranks.”

Reg’s face turned a dull shade of red. “I dunno about that, milord. I reckon she’s like that other cat of yours.”

“Like Romulus? How so?”

“She likes to toy with a body,” he said disapprovingly and Gervaise laughed again. He was becoming rather fond of Reg.

Returning to their rooms ten minutes later, he found Caroline knelt before the sofa, entreating Romulus to spare the new furniture from his claws. Her pose gave Gervaise an enticing view of her décolletage, framed in little pink bows. “He is being absolutely wicked,” she complained about the cat, who watched her through slitted eyes that gleamed. “Nothing I say has any effect.”

Remus meowed as if to draw attention to his own exemplary behavior. “Yes, I know you’re a good boy,” Caroline said, reaching out to stroke him between his ears. Romulus, taking violent exception to this unfavorable comparison, whisked around with a yowl and disappeared under the sofa. Remus promptly dived under after him and much scrabbling was heard. “Oh, boys!” a frustrated Caroline said, throwing up her hands.

“Never mind, there is nothing to be done with them,” Gervaise murmured. “Come, let me look at you.” He extended a hand to her and pulled her to her feet. “Very nice,” he observed, taking in the pink satin petticoat, the cascade of flounces down her front and the open-fronted robe of ruby velvet.