Miss Grimsleys Oxford Career Read Free

murmured to Ralph, who nodded and smiled.
    “
Taming of the Shrew
?” he asked, and she nodded, her hands on his shoulders, as they watched the rest of the Grimsleys unravel before their eyes. Even as she looked on, Horatia, her face pale, staggered toward the squire and sank into a chair, her hands covering her eyes.
    “Sarah Siddons is warming up,” Ralph whispered.
    “She must wait her turn,” Ellen whispered back. “Mama will win out.”
    “Spots!” Mama cried again. She tugged on her husband's arm. “Mr. Grimsley, this is serious business!”
    The squire peered closer at his youngest child and then leaped back. “’Pon my word, if it persists, won't she be a sight when she skips down the aisle in front of Horry, strewing around them little posies that I am supposed to pay a king's ransom for in December!”
    Mrs. Grimsley glared at her husband until he stepped back again. Her eyes narrowed. “We are having a wedding in less than two months’ time, Mr. Grimsley. This is no joking matter!” She followed up her words by bursting into tears, noisy tears that cast Martha's efforts into the shade. The child ceased her wailing and stared up at her mother. Then her red-dotted face darkened again, and she added her miseries to her mother's woe.
    Ralph put his hands over his ears and then nudged his sister, who still sat in the window seat, transfixed by the spectacle before her. “It is Horry's turn,” he whispered. “This will be good.”
    “Hush, Ralph,” Ellen whispered as Horatia, her lovely face filled with misery, staggered to her feet and latched onto the lapels of her father's riding coat.
    Like others of the Grimsley race, she was tall and possessed a headful of guinea-gold curls that tickled Papa's nose and made him sneeze.
    Wide-eyed, Ralph watched the tableau before him, then turned away. “Dear me,” he managed, his shoulders shaking.
    Ellen put her finger to her lips.
Was ever womankind plagued with such a helpless family?
she thought as she hurried to Martha and knelt in front of her little sister. Expertly she ran her hands over the bumps on Martha's face, then stood up.
    “Mama, do take it down a peg.”
    Mama only sobbed harder. “You and your dreadful slang! You are not faced with a crisis of monumental proportions!” Mama wept into her handkerchief. “Spots!”
    “It is worse and worse, Mama!” Horatia burst out. “Chevering says …”
    “Nonsense!” Ellen said, cutting off her sister in midsentence and resting her hand upon Martha's head. “Mama, let us begin with Martha. Did you take a good look at her? A really good look?”
    Mama wiped her eyes and squinted down at her littlest daughter. “I think I know my own children, Ellen,” she said, biting off her words.
    Ellen knelt in front of her sister again, her hands firm on Martha's shoulders. “Tell me truly, Martha. Have you been in Mama's chocolates again?”
    Martha, a finger in her mouth, looked from one parent to the other and back to Ellen again. She scratched her stomach and nodded.
    “There you have it, Mama. It is merely a rash and will likely be gone before noon.” She gave her little sister a shake. “And you stay out of Mama's chocolates, miss! You know they are her ‘ever-present help in trouble.’ ”
    Mama wiped her streaming eyes. “Don't be sacrilegious, daughter! And speaking of that, wasn't that the vicar I saw leaving here in such a snit?”
    Ellen nodded. Mama dabbed at her eyes again.
    “And I had such hopes of him.” Turned loose, Martha darted away. Mama sighed again. “My nerves, Ellen, my nerves!”
    Ellen put her arms around her mother. “They are your closest companions, my dear,” she soothed. “Mama, lie down now and think about this: you could invite Cousin Henrietta Colesnatch to stay with us for the duration of the wedding. You know how she loves to batten herself on relatives. She can watch Martha for you.”
    Mama opened her mouth to utter a protest, but she closed it instead