Part 23 (1/2)
Miss Platt t.i.ttered. ”Oh, Mr. West! Surely you know what dishes your sister can prepare.”
Ravenscroft blinked. ”Oh. Well. I might except that, ah, well...” He swallowed noisily, then said in a rush, ”Venetia lives with, ah, our parents whilst I have a set of rooms off St. James. She didn't know how to cook back when I lived at home.” He sent a wild glance at Venetia. ”Isn't that right?”
She sent him an approving smile. ”My skills have only recently been proven. After Ravenscroft moved into his own apartments, Mama hired a temperamental French cook who delighted in quitting hours before any given entertainment.”
Mrs. Bloom nodded. ”That is very good of you to a.s.sist your mama, my dear. What are your favorite dishes?”
”My favorites are Cornish hens stuffed with crab dressing, duck in mint sauce, and an especially savory liver pate.”
”That,” Ravenscroft said, spooning in another mouthful, ”is just another reason why you should have run away with me to Italy.”
”Run away with you to Italy?” Elizabeth looked at Ravenscroft with surprise. ”Why were you and your sister planning on running off to Italy?”
”My sister? Oh! Well...” Ravenscroft's cheeks burned a bright red.
”My brother is such a tease. He is forever suggesting we should run away from home to Italy.”
”Just so,” Ravenscroft said. ”Venetia could marry an Italian, and I could write a novel or some such thing.”
Mrs. Bloom clucked her tongue. ”Mr. West, you and your sister are too old to be running away from home. What would your parents say?”
Ravenscroft opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. ”Our mother is a saintly woman who-”
”I am certain Mrs. Bloom does not wish to hear that particular story.” Venetia sent Ravenscroft a warning glance. He'd tangle them up in a story so wild they wouldn't be able to remember the details.
Ravenscroft flushed and obediently busied himself with his stew.
Satisfied he would cause no more harm for the moment, Venetia told Mrs. Bloom, ”My brother is forever imagining he will start a new life in Italy with me to wash his clothes and take care of him, though I have informed him that I will take no part in such nonsense.”
”I don't blame Mr. West for wis.h.i.+ng to have a cook with him.” Miss Platt forced a laugh and said in a plainly critical voice, ”Although I must admit I've never known a lady who could cook at all.”
Elizabeth sent a hard glance to Miss Platt. ”I am glad Miss West can cook, or else we'd have been forced to eat cold bread and cheese for dinner.”
”Indeed,” Mrs. Bloom said, eyeing Miss Platt with disfavor. ”I hope none of us is so ungrateful as to describe Miss West's talents as anything other than wonderfully fortunate for us all.”
”Yes,” Gregor said, surprising everyone, as he'd not said a word the entire meal. He stood and bowed in Venetia's direction, his mouth still turned in a straight line. ”Miss West, you have taken simple stew to a new level.”
Venetia didn't know where to look. She wished she'd approached their conversation in the kitchen in a different manner. It was arrogant of Gregor to have a.s.sumed she would marry him as a matter of expediency, but now that her emotions were a bit cooler, she had to admit that the offer was quite chivalrous.
If only he'd worded it with some finesse. She had been so outraged at his a.s.sumption that she should blindly allow him to fix all of her problems that it wasn't until she was alone in the kitchen that the other aspects of his offer had sunk in.
She wished she had the chance to apologize for her hot temper, but looking at his expression, she rather doubted it would do much good.
Gregor told the squire, ”Mrs. Bloom has offered us the use of her coach after dinner to see if we can find a horse in town to replace your injured one. The road is clear enough to travel.”
The squire nodded. ”Excellent. Thank you, Mrs. Bloom.”
”It's nothing.” Mrs. Bloom waved her plump hand. ”Miss Platt and I plan on leaving first thing tomorrow morning. It'll be good to get the coach out of that musty barn and into the fresh air.”
The squire raised his brows. ”It's still kind of you.” He stood as well. ”Elizabeth, have your maid pack your bags this evening. We should be off at first light as well.”
”I should pack, too,” Mrs. Bloom said. She gathered her shawl and stood. ”Miss Platt, come with me.”
Miss Platt tore her gaze from Ravenscroft, blinking in surprise. ”But...I, ah-” She s.n.a.t.c.hed up her spoon. ”I have not yet finished this delicious stew.”
Mrs. Bloom sent a knowing look at Ravenscroft, who appeared miserable, but she only said, ”Very well, Miss Platt. When you finish, pray come to our room, and let's pack our things. As charming as this inn is, it is time we go to London.” Mrs. Bloom left and was soon heard making her way up the stairs.
Gregor sent a glance at Venetia. ”I daresay you and your brother will wish to leave at the same time?”
She nodded. ”I will pack this evening, too.”
”Good. I will be accompanying you and Mr. West to your grandmother's.” He turned to the squire. ”Are we ready?”
”Wait!” Ravenscroft jumped to his feet, tossing his napkin onto the table. ”I will help you!” He hurried to join the other two men by the door.
”Good,” Gregor said. ”We could use someone to carry the broken wheel from the Higganbothams' carriage.”
Ravenscroft gawped. ”But I'll get dirty.”
”So you will,” Gregor said with obvious satisfaction as he followed the squire from the room.
Ravenscroft sighed. Miss Platt half stood, her hand outstretched, a hopeful expression on her face. Ravenscroft gulped, then almost ran from the room.
”Did you see that?” Miss Platt said, dropping back into her chair, almost glowing. ”Oh, Miss Elizabeth, he looked at me!”
”Did he?” Elizabeth frowned. ”I missed it.”
”He looked directly at me!” She waved a hand to fan herself. ”I think...he must...is it possible that he cares for me? Oh, Miss West, please tell me what you think? He is your brother, after all.”
”I don't think Mr. West is capable of truly caring for anyone,” she said. ”He's much too young.”
Miss Platt's face fell.Elizabeth sent the older lady a quick look of compa.s.sion. ”Which only means he's not capable yet.”
Miss Platt attempted to smile.
Venetia felt as if she'd just kicked a puppy. ”I'm sorry, Miss Platt. Perhaps I'm not the best person to ask about Mr. West's feelings.”
Miss Platt tried to take heart, squaring her shoulders. ”That's true, though I know what I saw. Miss Elizabeth, perhaps we should go upstairs and pack our things?”
Elizabeth nodded absently. ”Of course. Go ahead. I will be up in a moment.”
Miss Platt looked from Elizabeth to Venetia, then back, plainly unsettled by Elizabeth's implied dismissal. ”But, Miss Higganbotham-Elizabeth-I thought that while we were packing, we could discuss romance, as we are both veterans of that joyous state.”
”Yes, well, I have something I must discuss with Miss West first. You may go ahead and I will arrive shortly. This will not take long.”
Miss Platt sniffed her disapproval and flounced out of the room, closing the door with a decided snap.
Elizabeth rose and went to the door. She opened it a crack and peeked out. Apparently satisfied, she closed the door and came to sit beside Venetia, her eyes unusually bright as she took one of Venetia' s hands and held it tightly. ”I must speak with you!”
”Of course.”