Edwardian Candlelight Omnibus by MC Beaton Page A

Blenkinsop, you are a
masher
!”
    The change in Sir Edward was ridiculous. He immediately puffed and swelled with pride like a bullfrog. “You’ll be beggin’ me to come back, Jennie, see if you don’t. I’ll be at my club.”
    He slammed the door so hard that the draft blew the heavy red portiere back and forth and set its fringe of bobbles dancing.
    “You must forgive my husband,” said Lady Blenkinsop, looking quite healthy from her exertions. “And forgive me also for making such a scene but, you see,” she added, “I simply couldn’t bear the sight of the man any longer.”
    If the duchess had meant Polly to be cowed by Lady Blenkinsop’s manner, it certainly was succeeding—if “being cowed” meant being more embarrassed than you have ever been.
    Lady Blenkinsop sank gracefully into a chair and looked at Polly affectionately. “Poor girl! How badly I am behaving and how embarrassed you must be. But when I came into the room and saw Edward with his hand on your knee, it all came over me in a flash. Mister Baines, I thought. You see Edward told me that Mrs. Baines left Mister Baines because he would not dismiss you, and Mister Baines is having such a jolly time as a bachelor that he lives in fear and dread of your departing the firm.”
    “Oh!” cried Polly in distress, covering her red face with her hands.
    “I was dying to meet you, which is why I invited you to tea, but I never thought for a minute that it would work out so splendidly. Ah, Wilkins. Tea. Just leave the things and go. Now we can be comfortable!”
    The marquis felt great pity for the distressed Polly. He was too used to the direct speech and eccentricities of various society ladies to be embarrassed but he realized it must indeed be a new experience for Miss Marsh. He launched into a light description of all the gossip and affairs of society until he noticed that Polly was looking more composed.
    Polly really did not know what to make of her hostess. And she dismally remembered her last encounter with the marquis and all those horrible lies he had told her about Peter.
    She suddenly realized that the marquis had stopped talking and that Lady Blenkinsop was addressing her. “Now, Miss Marsh, I believe you live in Stone Lane in Shoreditch and that there is a weekly market there. Tell me all about it.”
    Polly stiffened, but Lady Blenkinsop’s kind face was alive with interest. Polly began to slowly describe the Sunday market, the noise, the bustle, the friendliness, the feuds between the traders, which were quickly forgotten once the market was closed. Lady Blenkinsop listened intently and begged for more. Still in a hesitant voice, Polly began to describe her family and surroundings, suddenly finding it a relief to be absolutely honest. Her voice growing stronger, she told of Joyce’s addiction to comics, her father’s terrible threats that he never meant or carried out, and of Ma’s comfortable kitchen and her ability to produce splendid hot meals at the drop of a hat. Lady Blenkinsop drank it all in with the air of someone greedy for life and the marquis watched Polly’s beautiful and animated face and thanked his lucky stars that he was a confirmed bachelor. The girl was enough to bewitch anyone!
    When Polly had finished, Lady Blenkinsop sat back with a sigh. “How marvelous. How
alive
!” she breathed. “I think that perhaps with Edward gone I shall be able to go out and about a little more. Edward always intimidates me and makes me feel ill, you know. I can never seem to carry on a conversation without him harrumphing and barking and saying, ‘I don’t understand the rubbish you talk. I’m a plain, simple soldier and I like things said in plain, simple terms.’”
    She rose to her feet. “Now, if you will both forgive me, I must rest. My dear Marquis, will you be so kind as to escort Miss Marsh back to town? You will? Splendid! Come, give me a kiss, my dear, and call on me at any time.”
    After they had left, Lady