Page 31 of Lady Beast's Bridegroom
Arial was pleasedshe and Peter had both been home when Peter’s stepmother and stepsisters came to call. It was good that they could present a united front. Good, too, to have the initial confrontation over. It would not be the last, she was sure. They may have made it a condition that the three women would not criticize Peter or Arial, but vipers such as these would find a way to spread their poison without technically breaching the condition.
When it became clear to the widow that all of her grumbling would not change any of the terms of the proposed agreement, she asked to be shown to her room.
Arial’s response drew another avalanche of carping and complaint. “It is a small house,” Arial kept repeating, “and all of the rooms are taken.” It was true. It was also true that she did not wish to offer guest space to a woman who had shown herself to be Peter’s enemy.
At last, Lady Ransome wound down to the plaintive question, “But where are we to stay?”
Peter and Arial had not discussed this, not imagining the women would have the cheek to commandeer Peter’s carriage, driver, and team, and come hurrying up to London. Arial met Peter’s eyes; her brow lifted in a question.
He justified her confidence and rose to the occasion. “My thought, Arial, is that we send Barlowe to obtain rooms in a reputable hotel. One that caters to ladies. Barlowe will know just the thing.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Arial agreed. With an eye to cutting off any arguments, she added, “That said, it wouldprobably be less costly to send them back to Sussex immediately. Surely, they could make Three Oaks before dark? But certainly, it will be more efficient for her ladyship, at least, to be in town to see the properties that Richards finds. I suppose, the Misses Turner could return to Sussex?”
To Arial’s secret satisfaction, her ploy worked. The two sisters began pleading with their mother to stop being a crosspatch. “We don’t want to stay with Beau, anyway, Mama,” Laura insisted. “I daresay Lady Caliban—Lady Ransome, I mean—does not go out in Society.”
“Nor will we,” retorted Pauline. “We don’t have anything fit to wear, and no money to pay the dressmaker. We are not likely to get money either, Laura, if you call Lady Ransome horrid names.”
Arial thought it best to pretend she wasn’t listening. Her good manners overcoming her good sense, she sent for refreshments.
When the servants brought the trays, Clara joined them. She had heard they had visitors and wanted to know if she was needed. The dowager, with a new audience, played for sympathy again. She addressed Peter. “Am I, then, to be kept from even seeing my darling Vivienne? Surely, Beau, a mother has some rights.” She took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, placing her hand on her chest. Letting the breath out with a deep sigh she observed, “None of you know the depths of a mother’s heart, and the pain of losing a child.”
Again, Arial and Peter communicated without words. Peter stood. “We do not intend to prevent you from visiting Vivienne, Madam. She will live with us. I will leave it to her to decide whether or not she wishes to go out with you, should you request it and should it fit in with our plans. I will go up now and ask her to come down and say hello.”
Arial served tea and invited the others to help themselves from the plates of savories and cakes. The two sisters did so, while Lady Ransome favored Clara with some highly improbable tales that proved beyond doubt that Viv adored her mother and would be devastated to be parted from her.
Viv entered the room hand in hand with her brother and bobbed a curtsy to her mother from across the room. Lady Ransome held out her arms. “Come to me, you darling child. How I have yearned to behold you again.”
Viv looked up at Peter. “Do I have to?” Even at the thought, the child’s shoulders were hunching over, her neck shrinking—everything about her screamed resistance. When Arial was a child, she had hated being forced to allow loathed relatives to hug and kiss her. Josiah’s mother had been one of the worst. She would pinch Arial’s cheek, comment on her plain face and large body, and commiserate with Arial’s mother that Arial had not been born a boy, since prettiness was not important for a boy.
Arial opened her mouth to defend Viv, but Peter spoke first. “Not if you do not wish to.”
Lady Ransome wailed and patted a lace-trimmed handkerchief under each dry eye. “Sharper than a serpent’s tooth is a thankless child,” she misquoted.
“You have a new dress,” Laura sneered.
Pauline’s tone was pleasant. “It suits you, Viv.”
Viv looked startled. “Thank you, Pauline.”
“I spoke to Barlowe,” Peter said in an aside to Arial. “He thinks Grillions will be just the thing and has sent one of the footmen with a note to make the arrangements.”
Arial nodded her understanding. “Vivienne,” she said, “your mother has nothing to eat. Will you fix a plate for her, please?”
Viv did so, ignored by Lady Ransome, who was busy telling Clara of all the occasions on which she, as a mother, had sacrificed herself for the sake of her youngest child.
Arial was pleased to note that Viv’s only reaction was a contemptuous curl of the lip.
She brought the plate to her mother, who frowned at it. “What is this you have brought me. Hold it still.”
Viv obeyed, the shrinking from earlier even more evident. Peter and Arial both stood and took a step forward to intervene should Lady Ransome attempt to hit the girl. Instead, she began moving things around the plate, putting the occasional small tidbit into her mouth and rejecting the rest. “I do not eat salmon pastries. And these are plum. Why did you not get me some of the cherry tarts, like Laura has? I wanted the cherry tarts. Not this cheese; it is too smelly. The bread is not the finest white flour. Arial, child, your chef is cheating you, buying a cheaper grade of bread flour fit only for servants. I would never allow such a thing to be served in any house of mine.”
Peter, like the campaign officer he was, had already reacted before Arial fully realized what was happening. He put another plate on Lady Ransome’s side table, murmuring, “For the items you do not want.” At the same time, lifted the plate Viv held from the child’s hands and put that next to the other. He drew her by the shoulder out of her mother’s reach, and back to a chair near his own.
Lady Ransome was deep in a lecture about proper household management and did not appear to take any notice.
Viv soon asked to be allowed to return to the schoolroom. Peter and Arial gave their permission. Lady Ransome waved her off without ceasing her harangue.
As Arial told Peter after the three visitors left, she thought she should have taken notes, and made a point of doing the opposite of every piece of advice. “Except,” she added, “in my household, we mostly do the opposite anyway.”
