Miss Fellingham's Rebellion Read Online Free

sinned. “How did we find out?”
    “One of Freddy’s friends—Pershing, Parsnip or something,” her ladyship said bitterly. “The damn fool told him all.”
    “I think we have much to thank this friend for,” Catherine said. “It isn’t often that something good happens as a result of Freddy.”
    “I say, Catherine, cut line,” insisted her brother, much offended. “I haven’t gotten us into this fix.”
    “You’re right, Freddy,” she conceded. “I apologize for the injustice I do you.”
    “What fix is that?” her mother asked. “Arabella and I shall stop immediately, and nobody need be any the wiser. There, I have solved the problem. I’ll simply send a note to that effect to my friend, and we will consider the matter closed.”
    Catherine, who knew that anything pertaining to her mother was rarely simple, did not think this was the best remedy and insisted that they go visit Arabella, Lady Courtland at once to make sure the message was not only delivered but received.
    “At this hour?” Lady Fellingham asked, appalled. “Selling commissions in the king’s army might not be up to your standards, but I assure you, my dear, making indecently early house calls isn’t up to mine! We will not be so shabby.”
    “I find your scruples admirable, Mama, if a little misaligned. We shall go presently, for the confidential nature of our business is best served if we visit before proper calling hours,” Catherine said.
    Just then the doors to the drawing room opened to admit Sir Vincent, who was in the act of placing his beaver on his head. “Well, I’m off to my club. Ah, Catherine has returned. I hope, m’dear, that you’ve come up with a suitable solution to this mess, as I feel it has already wasted enough of my time. Please be advised, though, that I am here if you need any guidance.” With that promise, he tipped his hat and turned to leave the room as quickly as possible.
    “Rest assured, Papa, my mother and I will visit Arabella immediately to put a stop to this nonsense,” Catherine announced coolly, with a sideways glance at her mother, who had yet to accept her fate and was even then marshaling another argument as to why they shouldn’t leave just yet.
    “Very good,” he said, happy that a course had been decided on and that it didn’t involve him.
    “I thank you for your kind offer to go with me, Catherine,” her mother said in a tone that conveyed much annoyance and very little gratitude. “But having gotten us into this ‘mess,’ as your father so inelegantly puts it, I think it’s only right that I go to Arabella’s on my own.”
    Catherine could easily imagine her mother doing exactly that: She would go to Arabella’s town house and leave as soon as she arrived—without even knocking on the door. “And it’s very kind of you to want to spare me, Mama, but I must insist on seeing this matter through to ensure that it’s properly resolved.”
    Lady Fellingham scrunched up her nose, as if smelling something particularly unpleasant. “I really don’t think—”
    “Damnation, Liza,” said Sir Vincent with some heat, “let the chit go if she wants to. We need someone to keep tabs on you and if she’s volunteering for the task, I say let her.”
    “Really, Sir Vincent, you talk such nonsense,” Lady Fellingham tittered, her anxious fingers at risk of rubbing a hole in the brocade. “Fine, dear, if you would like to come. But I shall need to change first, as shall you.”
    Catherine knew well her mother’s penchant for putting off distasteful things and had no intention of indulging it. “Of course. But I must warn you that if you linger too long over your toilette, I shall be forced to go without you.”
    “Right, then,” interjected Sir Vincent before he could be drawn back into the conversation with a look or a question. “As I said, must be going. Meeting Beaufort at the club, so I will take my leave of you now. M’dear.” He bowed to his wife, turned on