A scant thirty seconds later, the solemnent afternoon air was shattered by a shriek that echoed out the glass doors leading to the terrace and out over the lawns and gardens. The undergardner snorted in surprise and nearly fell over as he awakened from his nap. The cat stood up, stretched luxuriously, and strolled in the direction of said glass doors.
The sight that met his shrewd golden eyes was enough to make him blink. The lady of the house, normally elegant and reserved, was striding back and forth across the sitting room floor, one hand threaded through her previously perfectly coiffed hair, the other clutching a large sheet of parchment in a deathgrip. She was repeating, "Oh my heavens. Oh my heavens. Oh my heavens," over and over as she rapidly crossed and recrossed the fine oriental carpet in the middle of the room. She was watched with detatched interest by her portly butler and amused curiosity by her eldest daughter. The cat (Thompkins, by name) settled himself on the nearest settee and prepared to enjoy the dramatics.
After giving her mother a few more minutes to indulge in her theatrics, the girl spoke. "Mums, what on earth is wrong? Don't tell me the house is being repossessed? Alex has been expelled from school and dunned for gambling debts? The king has finally passed on to his reward and has named Father the prince consort?" As her mother kept shaking her head no to each question, Caro tried to come up with more and more unlikely suggestions. "Watkins" - here Caro flicked a glance at the stolid countenance of their butler - "has decided to drop thirty stone and demands a new uniform?" Watkins rewarded her with a barely suppressed grin and tried to look austerely disapproving at the same time. Caro gestured wildly as she tried to come up with another reason for her mother's strange behaviour. Finally, she pounced on what, to her, was the most unbelieveable suggestion yet: "Don't tell me someone has offered for Ermengarde's hand in marriage?"
Lady Almeria finally stopped pacing and dropped gracefully into a large wing chair and let the parchment drift the short distance to the floor. Caro grabbed it, but before she could begin to read it, her mother sighed dramatically. "No-o-o-o-o. Not yet, at any rate. But, with any luck, and the help of a dressmaker, she soon will be." Lady Almeria paused for dramatic effect, then announced, "The king is giving a ball!"
Caro looked confused. "And...? We've been to dozens of balls at the palace. What is so wonderful at this one?"
Her mother shook her head. "I'll explain in a moment. Darling, would you have Watkins call Ermengarde down?"
Caro glanced at Watkins, who was still standing in the doorway, not five feet from her mother's prostrate form, then heaved herself out of her own chair. "We don't want to bother Watkins, mother. He might miss something important while he was gone. I'll get her."
She stood at the bottom of the grand staircase and yelled up, "Erms! Mother requests your presence in the drawing room!"
As she re-entered the drawing room, she found her mother's forehead wrinkled in distaste. "Caroline, must you refer to your sister as Erms? It makes her sound like a bug or something equally distasteful."
"Bug. Pest. Ermengarde. What a fitting analogy," Caro muttered under her breath as she took her seat and tried again to peruse the contents of the all-important piece of parchment.
To Be Continued...