Verity scrunched her nose for Mrs Tait’s large modern conservatory rather put her own to shame. The lady, along with her daughter, had been neighbours for less than a year and had furnished their house with opulence. “From cutlery. She inherited factories in Manchester when her husband died.”
“Perhaps a rich cutlery merchant would marry me then,” mused her cousin. “I’m always losing teaspoons so–”
“Verity! Persephone! My darlings!” shrieked a voice from within but carrying to without and causing a tradesman to drop the chaise on his foot. “Have you read the gossip column in today’sHerald? I’m as cross as nine highways.”
Verity scuttled indoors to Aunt Theo who brandished one of the more unsavoury London papers aloft. Tucked under her other arm was a sizeable cat with fur of sombre charcoal and brown.
Aunt, of slender girth and ample heart, adored felines, tittle-tattle and novels. Needless to say, she was a respectable but hopeless chaperone to herself and Sephi.
“Gossip, Aunt Theodora?” queried her cousin, Aunt Theo likewise loathing her full name.
“Listen to this, my darlings!” Aunt sniffed and began…
“Dear Reader of this Column of Authenticity,
Do not doubt the truth of what I am to divulge.
Such a matter that may fray tender nerves to insanity,
For ’tis an encroachment upon public liberty and DECENCY.
Not to speak, that it quite puts one off healthful pursuits!
Such an act I can hardly describe,
But I must…
So beware Gentlemen of a Delicate Disposition!
Heed me Daughters of Innocent Mien!
For whoever rambles St James’s Park early each morn,
Must do so at their OWN risk.
For whom might you encounter, you cry?
A Trio of Rogues?
A Triad of Itinerants?
A Trinity of Thieves?
No, my poor innocent Reader.
The Scandalous Scarlet Spinsters!”
Aunt threw down theHerald. “That’s us!” she cried. “The reprobates! I’ll pen a letter to the editor and–”
“It’s all my fault,” Sephi wailed, burying her face in her palms. “I’m the scandalous scarlet one, yet now you’re all tainted by association, tarred by their dishonest tattle. You know what the papers are like. They’ll twist the truth until people think all three of us are ruined.”
“No!” declared Verity. “It’s not about you, I…” She twisted to Aunt, mouthing for help.
“No, darling! I’m the scarlet one,” exclaimed Aunt. “For I wore a turban that very colour last week for our promenade in the park. And…and I winked at the gatekeeper.Theencroachment upon decency– that’s me, I’m quite sure! A brazen blowsabel–”
“Precisely,” interrupted Verity, “and Lady Pontefrat deplored the scarlet cushions in my studio when she brought Romeo for sketches. Complained it resembled a harlot’s boudoir in here so doubtless she spread gossip as well.”
Sephi peeped through her fingers. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that?”
