Supervising Sally by Marina Oliver

Sally, possibly be her chaperon? It’s ridiculous, and I refuse to become involved. Either you find someone older, more suitable and responsible, or I refuse to escort Sally to Brussels.’

    Phoebe felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. So this was the end of her dreams, the end of her attempt to escape from the stultifying atmosphere at Jane’s house. Was she to be sent home in disgrace, a failure before she had even
started on her job? Then she experienced a wave of fury and decided she was not giving in so meekly. She flung up her head and glared at the earl.
    â€˜I am three and twenty, my lord, and that makes me six years older than Sally. I have been accustomed to keeping house for my mother for four years, and controlling her finances. I’m no green girl.’
    He frowned. ‘Being able to deal with figures and do the marketing does not make you a suitable chaperon, Miss Kingston.’
    Phoebe gasped. ‘I did rather more than that, sir!’
    He went on, ignoring her interruption, ‘My sister tells me you have never even been to London before. How do you expect to go on in the sort of cosmopolitan society presently in Brussels? What authority can you exercise over a girl your own age? All right,’ he added, as Phoebe opened her mouth to protest, ‘a mere six years older.’
    â€˜I think I might have more influence,’ she stressed the word and tossed her head, ‘with Sally just because I am nearer to her in age and better able to understand her than an elderly spinster would!’
    â€˜I wouldn’t dream of imposing a spinster, elderly or otherwise, on my niece. I expected, and I am going to insist on having, a mature, sensible woman who was or had been married and knows her way around. Beatrice,’ he went on, swinging round to face his sister, ‘how could you be so imprudent? ’
    Beatrice looked far too unwell to deal with this, but she made a spirited reply. ‘Zachary, don’t be tedious. I have known Phoebe for years, and she is a sensible, intelligent girl who has dealt with a great deal of responsibility since her father’s death. I think I might be permitted to know what will suit a girl like Sally better than you, a bachelor.’
    â€˜And I don’t want anyone else!’ Sally said. ‘I like Phoebe,
and I promise I’ll obey her when we get to Brussels. I’d hate to have a stuffy, old embittered widow spoiling everything I want to do, and if you force one on me I’ll – I’ll behave so outrageously you’ll be sorry!’
    Phoebe looked gratefully at her two supporters, struggling to suppress a grin at Sally’s threats. Before she could speak, Lady Drayton, holding a hand to her head, spoke.
    â€˜Let us all calm down, and talk about this after dinner, which must be ready by now.’
    Promptly, as though he had been listening outside the door, her butler came in and announced, with great solemnity, that dinner was served. The earl, compressing his lips and frowning, offered his arm to Beatrice, and left the room. As they followed, Sally grinned at Phoebe and leant towards her.
    â€˜Don’t be concerned. Aunt Beatrice will change his mind, you’ll see.’

    The earl looked at his sister with concern. She had eaten almost nothing, pushing away untasted what he knew were some of her favourite dishes. She was flushed, and he wondered whether the argument before dinner had really offended her. It was unlike Beatrice to get upset over trifles. But then, it was unlike her to make such rash decisions as this choice of a chaperon for Sally. Later, when he could talk to her alone, he would be able to put his point of view without those two chits interrupting.
    He accepted that it must have been a blow to Phoebe, expecting to go to Brussels and be involved in all the gaiety there. He would, of course, when he sent her back to her home, give her a sum to compensate for the salary