Miss Fellingham's Rebellion Read Free Page A

anxieties by calmly showing her the tallies. If her predictions were on the mark, she would suggest simple economies to slim the budget. Catherine absolutely refused to believe there was nothing she could do. If there were no corners left to cut or no reasoning with her mother, then she would learn how to play faro herself and instruct her father on how to improve his game. Imagining herself in a gaming hell taking lessons from the dealer on how to wager so amused her that she began to laugh. After a few minutes, her mirth slowed to a giggle, and she stood up from the familiar leather chair. Before she could implement any plan, she had to extract her family from their current debacle, a task she hoped wouldn’t be impossible.
    When Catherine returned to the drawing room, Hawkins was clearing the tea, placing cups on the serving tray next to the silver teapot.
    “Well, there you are, girl,” her mother exclaimed, waving her handkerchief at her. “Where have you been? Has anyone told you that it is rude to walk out of a room like that? Have I not raised you with more manners than that ridiculous display demonstrated?”
    Catherine didn’t think that given the circumstances her conduct was a subject worthy of critique and ignored her mother’s comments. She waited until Hawkins had left the room before proceeding. “Where has my father gone?” she asked upon seeing that he was the only one who was not still in the room.
    “Gone,” said her mother.
    “Gone where?” Catherine ignored the way her mother had thrown herself onto the divan in the simulation of a faint.
    “Just gone.”
    Catherine turned to Freddy. “Where did he go?”
    “To his club, I imagine. He spends most mornings there.”
    “What does it matter?” whined Evelyn, who stood up in a fit of anger. “I want to go shopping. Mama, you promised we could go to the milliner on Bond Street today so I could buy one of Madame Claude’s dashing bonnets.”
    “I’m afraid, Evelyn, that you don’t quite understand the severity of the situation. Your mother was selling commissions in the king’s army.” Catherine said this slowly and distinctly as if clear articulation were all that stood between her selfish sister and comprehension.
    Evelyn laid her head on her palm and looked very bored. “Yes, yes, I know all that. I still don’t see why you have to be such a sad Sadie about it. It was a bad thing to do and she won’t do it anymore, will you, Mama. Now, why can’t we go buy hats?”
    Catherine closed her eyes and counted silently to ten. “Mayhap it hasn’t occurred to you yet that you can’t go to balls if your mother is in Newgate.”
    “Really, Catherine, doing it a bit brown,” Freddy ejaculated. “I mean, we’re not completely sunk, are we?”
    “I don’t know, Freddy, but we can’t run the risk. We have to scotch this immediately.”
    “Not go to balls?” Evelyn squeaked, all appearance of ennui chased from her countenance. “That can’t be right, Mama. I’ll still be able to go to balls no matter what happens, no?”
    But Lady Fellingham was in no condition to give her daughter the assurances she sought. “Oh, Cathy, you don’t think it’s as bad as all that, do you?” Visibly pale, she stood up and walked across the room to her daughter. “What would I do in jail? Will they make me wear chains?”
    When she saw how distressed her mother was, Catherine regretted her strong words. She did want to teach her mother a lesson, of course, but not at the expense of her peace of mind. As misguided as she was, her mother had only been trying to help. As soon as Catherine got her hands on the household accounts, she would make sure that there would be no more Cheltenham tragedies enacted in the Oriental drawing room. “We must do our best never to find out.”
    “Oh, dearest Mama.” Evelyn rushed to her mother and held out her hands, the horror of it all finally sinking in. “Will they let you bring a maid?”
    Lady Fellingham