flurry of activity. Effie handled the matter beautifully. Harriet had to admit her aunt had a definite skill at that sort of thing. She was at her best when called upon to navigate the dangerous waters of polite intercourse.
Mrs. Treadwell was the wife of one of the more prominent landholders in the district. Her husband devoted himself to his hunting hounds and Mrs. Treadwell devoted herself to sitting in judgment on social matters in the neighborhood.
She was a stoutly built woman who favored dark gowns and matching turbans. Today she was an imposing figure in a gray bombazine walking dress and a heavy gray turban that completely concealed her thin, gray hair.
Taken aback by the unexpected visit, Effie rallied instantly. Within moments she had her visitor seated in the parlor and tea prepared. Harriet was obliged to leave the study and Felicity politely left her needlework to help entertain Mrs. Treadwell.
"What a pleasant surprise, Mrs. Treadwell." Effie arranged herself on the sofa and graciously poured tea. "We always enjoy having visitors here at the rectory." She smiled pointedly as she handed a cup and saucer to her guest. "Even on short notice."
Harriet exchanged a knowing grin with Felicity.
"I fear this is something more than a mere social call," Mrs. Treadwell said. "It has come to my attention that a rather unfortunate occurrence took place last night at the local assembly."
"Really?" Effie sipped her tea and offered no assistance.
"I am told St. Justin appeared."
"I believe he did," Effie agreed.
"And ordered a waltz to be played," Mrs. Treadwell continued ominously. "Which he then danced with your niece, Harriet."
"It was great fun, actually," Harriet said cheerfully.
"Yes, it was." Felicity smiled at Mrs. Treadwell. "Everyone enjoyed the waltz very much. We are all hoping it will be played again at the next assembly."
"That remains to be seen, Miss Pomeroy." Mrs. Treadwell straightened her already stiff spine. "As shockingly inappropriate as it was to have the waltz played, I am far more concerned with the fact that St. Justin danced with you, Harriet. And
only
you. According to the information I received, he left after the single dance."
"I imagine he was rather bored by our little assembly," Effie said coolly before Harriet could respond. "One dance was no doubt sufficient to assure him that he would not enjoy himself if he stayed. I am certain he is accustomed to more elevated entertainments."
"You are missing the point, Mrs. Ashecombe," Mrs. Treadwell told Effie in a rising tone. "St. Justin danced with your niece. The waltz, no less. True, it was Harriet, not Felicity, to whom he showed so much undesirable attention. Nevertheless, it was an extremely reckless piece of business."
"I was there the entire time," Effie stated flatly. "You may rest assured I kept an eye on the situation."
"Nevertheless," Mrs. Treadwell said, "he left the assembly without bothering to ask anyone else to partner him. He singled out your niece for his attentions. You must be aware that such an event will be remarked upon by all and sundry."
"Will it, indeed?" Effie's brows rose quellingly.
"Yes, it will," Mrs. Treadwell stated grimly. "People are already talking about it. That is why I have taken it upon myself to come here this morning."
"So kind of you," Harriet murmured, unable to resist. She caught Felicity's eye and barely restrained another grin.
Mrs. Treadwell focused on Effie. "I am very well aware that you are new in the district, Mrs. Ashecombe. You cannot be expected to know St. Justin's reputation. Indeed, it is such as should not be discussed in front of innocent young ladies."
"Then, as there are two innocent young ladies present, perhaps we should cease discussing it," Effie suggested mildly.
"I will only say this," Mrs. Treadwell plowed on determinedly, "the man is a menace to all innocent young females. He is called the Beast of Blackthorne Hall precisely because he is responsible for the
Mrs. Treadwell was the wife of one of the more prominent landholders in the district. Her husband devoted himself to his hunting hounds and Mrs. Treadwell devoted herself to sitting in judgment on social matters in the neighborhood.
She was a stoutly built woman who favored dark gowns and matching turbans. Today she was an imposing figure in a gray bombazine walking dress and a heavy gray turban that completely concealed her thin, gray hair.
Taken aback by the unexpected visit, Effie rallied instantly. Within moments she had her visitor seated in the parlor and tea prepared. Harriet was obliged to leave the study and Felicity politely left her needlework to help entertain Mrs. Treadwell.
"What a pleasant surprise, Mrs. Treadwell." Effie arranged herself on the sofa and graciously poured tea. "We always enjoy having visitors here at the rectory." She smiled pointedly as she handed a cup and saucer to her guest. "Even on short notice."
Harriet exchanged a knowing grin with Felicity.
"I fear this is something more than a mere social call," Mrs. Treadwell said. "It has come to my attention that a rather unfortunate occurrence took place last night at the local assembly."
"Really?" Effie sipped her tea and offered no assistance.
"I am told St. Justin appeared."
"I believe he did," Effie agreed.
"And ordered a waltz to be played," Mrs. Treadwell continued ominously. "Which he then danced with your niece, Harriet."
"It was great fun, actually," Harriet said cheerfully.
"Yes, it was." Felicity smiled at Mrs. Treadwell. "Everyone enjoyed the waltz very much. We are all hoping it will be played again at the next assembly."
"That remains to be seen, Miss Pomeroy." Mrs. Treadwell straightened her already stiff spine. "As shockingly inappropriate as it was to have the waltz played, I am far more concerned with the fact that St. Justin danced with you, Harriet. And
only
you. According to the information I received, he left after the single dance."
"I imagine he was rather bored by our little assembly," Effie said coolly before Harriet could respond. "One dance was no doubt sufficient to assure him that he would not enjoy himself if he stayed. I am certain he is accustomed to more elevated entertainments."
"You are missing the point, Mrs. Ashecombe," Mrs. Treadwell told Effie in a rising tone. "St. Justin danced with your niece. The waltz, no less. True, it was Harriet, not Felicity, to whom he showed so much undesirable attention. Nevertheless, it was an extremely reckless piece of business."
"I was there the entire time," Effie stated flatly. "You may rest assured I kept an eye on the situation."
"Nevertheless," Mrs. Treadwell said, "he left the assembly without bothering to ask anyone else to partner him. He singled out your niece for his attentions. You must be aware that such an event will be remarked upon by all and sundry."
"Will it, indeed?" Effie's brows rose quellingly.
"Yes, it will," Mrs. Treadwell stated grimly. "People are already talking about it. That is why I have taken it upon myself to come here this morning."
"So kind of you," Harriet murmured, unable to resist. She caught Felicity's eye and barely restrained another grin.
Mrs. Treadwell focused on Effie. "I am very well aware that you are new in the district, Mrs. Ashecombe. You cannot be expected to know St. Justin's reputation. Indeed, it is such as should not be discussed in front of innocent young ladies."
"Then, as there are two innocent young ladies present, perhaps we should cease discussing it," Effie suggested mildly.
"I will only say this," Mrs. Treadwell plowed on determinedly, "the man is a menace to all innocent young females. He is called the Beast of Blackthorne Hall precisely because he is responsible for the
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