"Thank you for not saying this in front of Lady Garsington." The acknowledgment was uttered with the enthusiasm of one whose teeth were being drawn.
Megan hesitated. "I thought her to be an unmannered person who did not deserve any more consideration than she showed to me."
"Oh, believe me, you are fortunate to be omitted from her wretched soiree musicale. Evenings at Garsington House are to be avoided at all costs. Why else do you imagine the library has emptied so sharply?" He nodded toward the evacuation just coming to an end. So many vehicles had already pulled away that Oliver's curricle was one of the few still remaining. Oliver, Chloe, and Sir Jocelyn were now at the far end of the verandah, warning newly arriving acquaintances of the hazard within. Chloe glanced back, and her manner intimated that she was now more convinced than ever of something going on between Sir Greville Seton and his aunt's companion.
Greville looked at Megan. "So my bacon was only saved because Lady Garsington is beneath contempt?"
"Yes."
"Your capacity for blunt speaking is-"
"Almost a match for yours? Yes, Sir Greville, I suppose it is."
Chapter 15
When Megan and Greville returned to Radcliffe House, they found the hallway piled high with the Christmas greenery Fosdyke and the two footmen had purchased in the town. Rupert was still out on his ride, having decided to make a virtual day of it, but he was expected back soon, and from the kitchens there wafted the delicious smell of gingerbread.
Evangeline usually supervised the decorations, but her fitting for her jester's costume was running late, so no start had been made. She was in her apartment with the dressmaker, whose store of patience was rapidly diminishing because the little folly bells on the bright red and yellow outfit's shoulders had been rearranged five times over the past hour, and still Evangeline was not entirely satisfied. On hearing from Annie that Megan and Greville had returned, she immediately sent the maid to bring them to her, so that she could call upon their advice as to the bells' most becoming position.
Her apartment was on the east of the house, with a splendid view over the Steine. A fire crackled brightly in the hearth of the blue silk dressing room, where she was standing upon a stool the better to assist the dressmaker. The room contained wardrobes, a chest of drawers, and a washstand behind an elegant black-lacquered screen. There was also a dressing table upon which lay a three-horned jester's hat, and a lute with long ribbons that floated in the fierce heat from the fire.
The sight of Lady Evangeline Radcliffe in a tight-fitting fool's suit was not conducive to solemnity; indeed it encouraged the sort of mirth that was not on any account to be revealed, on pain of her considerable wrath. Her figure was a challenge for any needlework, and the unfortunate costume strained alarmingly along every seam. She was red and yellow lozenges from head to toe, her face was crimson from another flush, and she tinkled with so many bells that Greville could not help recalling a herd of goats he once encountered in the Swiss Alps.
She confronted Greville in all seriousness. "Well? How do I look? Am I not the very personification of Feste?"
He swallowed. "I, er, think you look quite exceptional, Aunt E," he replied.
Then she turned to Megan. "What do you say, Miss Mortimer?"
"I have never seen anything quite so singular, Lady Evangeline."
Evangeline beamed. "There, I knew it looked excellent," she declared with some satisfaction.
Megan could not help glancing at Greville, and she saw his lips were pressed together in an effort to maintain a straight face.
Evangeline surveyed herself in the dressing table mirror, and saw nothing comic at all. "My cap! Bring my cap!" she cried, pointing to the item on the dressing table. Megan took it to her, and watched in fascination as Evangeline tugged it over her hair. Now my lute!" she commanded next, and Megan brought that as well. Evangeline posed in the mirror, and then struck a few exceedingly discordant notes. "Oh, I am looking forward to all this," she declared.
Greville caught Megan's eyes. The dressmaker gazed at the floor, and Annie, who stood by the door, was so still that she might have been a statue. No one dared to speak. Except Rollo, who suddenly revealed his presence by murmuring. "Mistress, thou lookest fit to explode."
Megan felt as if she would too, but Evangeline's expression did not alter. "I am considering hiring a proper manager for my theater," she said in a matter-of-fact tone that hinted at a task virtually accomplished. Rollo gasped, then hurried from the room. Evangeline's lips twitched with satisfaction. That would teach him a lesson!
Greville had heard nothing, of course, and so expressed surprise. "A manager? Aunt E, you don't require such a person."
"I know. It was just a passing thought, and best forgotten," Evangeline replied, holding out a hand to be assisted down from the stool, and her bells jingled as she went to the window. "I am informed by Mrs. Fosdyke's bunion that against all the usual odds, Brighton is about to have a great deal of snow," she said.
Greville smiled. "And this bunion is infallible, is it?"
"Oh, yes, and I'm truly delighted to know there is snow on the way."
"Why?" Greville asked curiously, for snow wasn't exactly to be recommended.
"Because I have Prinny's permission to use the royal sleigh. It was brought to the Pavilion from Windsor in the snow of '98, and has never been returned. I enjoyed driving in it so much on that occasion, that he graciously told me I was at liberty to use it again should the opportunity arise. I am greatly looking forward to it."
Megan trusted that the bunion was indeed to be relied upon, otherwise Evangeline was going to be deeply disappointed.
Evangeline turned from the window again. "Now, then, mes enfants, I trust you took note of the Christmas greenery downstairs?"
"It would be hard to miss it," Greville replied.
"All the wires, silver and gold paper, red ribbon, fruit, flowers, and so on are in the drawing room. I wish you and Miss Mortimer to commence making some arrangements."
"Me? Aunt E, I don't know the first thing about decorations!"
"No? Well, I'm sure Miss Mortimer does, so off you go."
Greville dug his heels in a little. "Aunt E, why can't we just dispense with decorations this year?"
"Oh, shame on you, sirrah! The ingredients have already been purchased, so I am hardly not going to use them. Besides, where is your Christmas spirit? Each Yuletide is precious, Greenville, and should be treated as if it may be your last. Who knows what may have happened by this time next year?" She was thinking about the sale of Radcliffe House to the Prince of Wales, but they did not know that.
Greville looked at her in puzzlement. "What do you mean, Aunt E?"
"Oh, nothing. Now, you and Miss Mortimer are to get on with the adornments. I will join you presently." She shooed them both out of the door, her bells jingling nineteen to the dozen.
Megan had no option but to oversee the decorations, because there was no sign at all of Evangeline. It was Greville's fault that she found herself in such a position, for he expressed complete incompetence where such things were concerned, and informed her that he was at her bidding. Fosdyke, Edward, and several maids therefore had to do as she said, and because Greville was present, they did not dare to quibble. He was put to cut silver and gold stars, that seeming to be the extent of his artistic ability, while she helped the others to incorporate fruit, red ribbons, and artificial flowers into the various ropes, garlands, wreaths, and arrangements of laurel, bay, rosemary, box, pine, holly, ivy, and mistletoe.
Only once did Megan find her attention drawn to Greville, and that was when he briefly left his star-cutting to snip a tiny sprig of mistletoe-two leaves and three berries-which he proceeded to place in the little jeweled snuffbox from which he had removed the previous sprig in the church. Megan could not help wondering what lay behind it all.