Friendship and Folly: The Merriweather Chronicles Book I by Meredith Allady Page B

sulks shall not prosper; but whoso apologizes and forsakes them shall have his wishes considered.” Margaret read the truth of this in her father’s eye; her scowl wavered, half-formed; Mr. Parry gazed at her inquiringly over his spectacles; she swallowed and recovered command of herself. Pardon was begged, and granted, and forthwith it was agreed that Mr. Deerbury should be approached for permission to allow his grandson to accompany them to London. Mr. Deerbury made all the objections to this proposal that a man might be expected to make, when asked if he could bear to be relieved of an inflamed joint, or a putrid sore throat, and thus the affair was settled to the satisfaction of almost everyone.
    Margaret was cast into triumphant raptures, which were in no way diminished by Gerard’s skeptical reception of the delights secured for him. He did not hesitate to rate London an odious, unfriendly place, based on three months’ sojourn, spent at a “genteel Academy for young gentlemen” in a mood of deep recalcitrance; and he was not to be persuaded otherwise by the assurances of a girl who had never been further south than Alcester. He saw not the slightest reason why they should not all remain in Merriweather, as they were.
    Ann, also, continued to hope, right unto the end, that something might occur to keep them all at Merriweather. She had settled it in her own mind that the death of one of the Earl’s numerous siblings would serve admirably as a means of deferral. Not one whose passing the Parrys might in any way regret, of course; but there was one far-flung brother, in particular, whom Ann felt at liberty to dispose of, as he had no family, and even the Earl did not speak well of him. But Providence proved as uninterested in the fatal preferences of the daughter as of the mother, and despite one or two very favorable hindrances--for instance, the alarming discovery made about the effects of an enclosed vehicle on Idelette’s stomach--the day set for their departure arrived without any striking disaster.
    What can be said of a journey crossing four counties in the dead of winter, encompassing three coaches and fourteen passengers, four of whom ranged between the ages of five and eleven, and one of whom suffered almost continually from carriage-sickness?
    What can be said, save that it was at length accomplished?
    **

Chapter VIII

    Lady Thomasin St. Bees had been for many years the proud wife of an amateur chemist of note. She embraced Elements with her marriage vows, referred to him as “her own dear Newton,” and unavailingly pressed him to offer up her health as well as his own on the altar of Furthering Chemical Knowledge through the Tasting and Breathing of Unknown Materials. Then, as happened to so many, the year 1789 arrived, and brought with it a deluge that swept away the life they had known together. In that year Lavoisier’s Traité élémentaire de chimie was published, and shortly thereafter some careless acquaintance placed a copy of it into the eager hands of Mr. St. Bees. Two days later both volumes had been read, and the work of his life had become to him as flotsam and jetsam. Too honest to reject the author’s logic, and yet unable to accept his conclusions, Mr. St. Bees had immediately sunk into a chemical confusion of such profound depth that it was indistinguishable from disinterest. He banished Sir Isaac’s portrait to an unused bedroom, packed all his various experimental contrivances into trunks and sent them to Merriweather for the amusement and endangerment of his young nephews, and gave his bewildered wife a free hand with his social engagements, stipulating only that there be no mention of the word ‘caloric’ under his own roof. The ensuing years had seen but a partial recovery, for he still winced at any mention of the Royal Institute, and had been known to dive into the carriages of absolute strangers in his efforts to escape a chance encounter with one of the more violently