Snobbery with Violence Read Online Free Page A

for some time. I heard about your sad disgrace. It was in the newspapers.’
    Rose bent her head. The newspapers had been kept from her but she should have known she would be written up in the social columns.
    ‘It’s so unfair!’ said Rose. ‘Sir Geoffrey should be the one in disgrace.’
    ‘Gentlemen never get the blame in such circumstances. You should know that.’
    ‘Miss Tremp, you educated me well, and for that I will be always grateful, but I could have done with a few lessons in the ways of the world.’
    ‘Listen to me, my lady. I told you I approved of the vote for women. I did not tell you to demean yourself by appearing at a demonstration. And it was up to your mother, Lady Polly, to school you in the arts of society.’
    Rose could feel herself becoming angry.
    ‘It is an unfair world for women,’ said Miss Tremp. ‘But you are privileged. It is your duty to your parents to marry well and then to your husband to have his children.’
    ‘But you said women had a right to have independence and not to be a household chattel for some man!’
    Miss Tremp flushed pink to the end of her long Scottish nose.
    ‘I am sure I never said such a thing.’
    Rose shook her head in bewilderment. ‘What am I to do?’
    ‘I think the next step is surely to send you to India. That is the procedure for young ladies who have failed at their season.’
    ‘I AM NOT GOING TO INDIA!’ shouted Rose.
    The nannies on either side leaned forward.
    ‘Wheesht!’ admonished Miss Tremp. ‘Ladies do not raise their voices.’
    ‘You are suddenly a wealth of information about what ladies do and don’t do.’
    ‘You would be best, my lady, to do what your parents tell you to do. Please lower your veil. I have my position to consider.’
    ‘Do you mean you consider me a disgrace?’
    ‘Unlike you, my lady, I have to earn my living. I was always of the opinion that you were a bit spoilt.’
    ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
    ‘It was not my place to do so.’
    ‘It was not your place to fill my head with ideas of female independence which you should surely have known I could never be allowed to follow.’
    ‘The day will come, my lady, when you will be grateful to me for a sound education to furnish your mind.’
    Rose stood up. She opened her mouth to deal out some final recrimination, but her shoulders sagged. She nodded her head, turned on her heel, and walked away.
    She had hoped for reassurance from Miss Tremp, for comfort, for a shared outrage at the iniquities of society.
    Miss Tremp watched the slim figure of Rose walking away and sniffed. That was the English for you. No backbone.
    Detective Superintendent Alfred Kerridge was enjoying a pint of beer before going home to his wife, Mabel, and their two children, Albert and Daisy. He had risen steadily up the ranks by dint of diligent plodding laced with amazing flights of imagination.
    He was a grey man – grey hair, grey eyes, heavy grey moustache. He felt a tug at his elbow and looked up into the unlovely features of one of his informants, Posh Cyril.
    Posh Cyril was second footman in the Blessington-Bruces’ household. He had a criminal record for burglary of which his employers were blissfully unaware. Although he had given up a life of crime, he had become an informant. He had been very useful in finding the identity of thieves for Kerridge, for he could recognize his own kind among the servants of various aristocratic households.
    ‘Got something for you,’ he whispered.
    Kerridge nodded and bought him a pint and then led the way to a corner table. They sat down. ‘What have you got?’ asked Kerridge.
    ‘Did you read about that scandal involving Lady Rose, daughter of the Earl of Hadshire?’
    ‘My wife insisted on reading it out to me. Hardly a criminal matter.’
    ‘Ah, but Sir Geoffrey Blandon is being forced to leave the country.’
    ‘Shouldn’t think he’d have to do that. Thought ruining some lass’s reputation was fair game with that lot.’