My Dear Jenny by Madeleine E. Robins Page B

path.
    Finally, with a deadly calm, she spoke between her teeth. “Madam,
since you force me to it, I must reveal myself to you: I am a woman of no
fortune, no beauty, and no youth, with only the blessing of a respectable
family behind me. I have no reputation with the ton . Indeed, I am
like all of those ciphers who linger on the fringes—the companions and
the governesses. I am sure that were I to vanish at this moment from the face
of the earth, only my cousins in the nursery of my aunt’s home would seriously
miss me. For the friendship I bear Mr. Domenic Teverley, and the affection I
owe to Miss Pellering and her family, I had rather not cause a scene here. But
my friends are waiting me, and I will pass.”
    Lady Teeve bridled. “You will? I’ll see you in Newgate if
you lay a hand on me, you cheap, lying little—” She raised her stick with
a gesture almost unbelievable in one of her delicate appearance, and seemed to
have every intention of using it, only a hand came from the crowd which grasped
the stick, then the lady’s arm.
    “Quite enough, Aunt. I am sure that my uncle would not be
pleased were you to cause a scene here, to say nothing of Domenic and myself.
To which add that there are several of the Royals here tonight, and I doubt
that they would approve of your making a scene with a young lady who has made
plain her determination to quit this quarrel.” He took Jenny’s hand. “May I
take you to your friends, Miss Prydd?”
    “Thank you, sir,” Jenny whispered.
    Lady Teeve backed away from them as if both man and woman
had the plague, her mouth drawn into a tight, disagreeable knot.
    “Come along, then. I’ll rejoin you and Domenic in a moment,
Aunt.” Tucking her hand into his arm, Teverley led Jenny down through the
crowds and to Mrs. Temple’s side. “Good night, Miss Prydd,” he said formally.
    “Good night, sir. And thank you,” she whispered.
    “You have my word that you will hear no more of this from my
Aunt Teeve. I shall see to that myself. Ladies.” He made a general bow to the
party and took his leave.
    Mrs. Temple, unaware of any of this, made speed to the
carriage nonetheless, already thinking of a cup of chocolate and her bed. Emily
and Mirabelle continued to talk, but not with the same giddy abandon as before.
Emily, in fact, seemed somewhat subdued and answered Mirabelle’s comments—mostly
about Domenic Teverley—in monosyllables.
    At home at last, Emily and Jenny trudged upstairs side by
side. As was her custom, Jenny walked her friend to the door of her bedroom,
and was about to turn down the hall towards her own, when Emily’s mournful
voice stopped her.
    “Jenny, Mirabelle said—Oh, I think she said it more to
be hateful than anything! But she said that she didn’t think Peter Teverley had
any more interest in me than he has in flying . Of course, she’s only
jealous because she liked Dom and he paid her hardly any notice,” she admitted
with glum satisfaction. “But I must , that is, he must ... oh,
Jenny, he has to notice me!”
    “I should say that he has given you considerable evidence of
his notice, starting from the moment when he decided we really couldn’t let you
ruin yourself on Ratherscombe,” Jenny said dryly.
    “That isn’t what I meant,” Emily insisted. “I expected ... I
want him to—”
    “Emily, I am tired.” Jenny, speaking again through clenched
teeth, realized how true this was with every word. “I am probably more tired
even than I think. I suggest that you go to sleep, and perhaps things will seem
brighter to you in the light of day. And you might give a thought, in passing,
to those of us who are not in a position to want or to expect .
Good night.” And without another word Miss Prydd turned and went toward her own
room.
    “Jenny? Oh, Jenny darling, was I unkind? I truly didn’t mean
to be. I’m just a stupid, silly chit, and I say things ... Please forgive me,
love. I’m the most selfish wretch on earth,