Chapter 14 #3
Put a bit strongly, but the general sense of the observation was accurate. Sheldon had been relieved to receive that note, to be excused from worrying about his brother.
“Who sent the note?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to know. James Fletcher has the means to send Dantry on a long voyage, and he’s utterly disgusted by Dantry’s reformist politics. I would not want to accuse Fletcher of mischief lest I find myself sailing for Brazil.”
The duchess chose another petit four. “Mendacity is clearly your besetting sin, young man. You were happy to see your brother swept off the stage, particularly when that same brother might have had you arrested for embezzlement. Is that the correct crime? Stealing? Fraud? There are so many hanging felonies these days.”
The ladies were not in the mood to suffer fools.
“I tell you, I don’t know where Dantry is, and I haven’t wanted to make inquiries lest he be subjected to a worse fate than whatever one he’s enduring.”
“Transportation to the Antipodes?” I suggested. “Many transportees, even though inured to hardship, don’t survive the voyage, Sheldon.”
“They said he would be unharmed.”
Miss Weatherby wheeled around the room to sit vis-à-vis with Sheldon, who continued to study the empty table.
“If the earl has come to harm, I will geld you.”
The duchess and Hyperia exchanged slight, terrifying smiles.
“I did not kidnap my brother. How many times must I say it? I might have made a bit free with the family funds, but I am virtually an unpaid steward, estate manager, and—”
“And a liar,” I said. “Fontaine is superbly competent and loyal. If Dantry asked you to take on the books, he was hoping to give you something—some one thing—constructive to do in hopes that you might justify a generous allowance. Then he noticed that the sheer volume of invoices and overdue notices was rising by the season—especially from the distant properties he did not frequent—as your greed made you increasingly bold. I will most assuredly leave your fate in the hands of the ladies if we cannot find your brother.”
“Then,” said Sir Clive, “we will notify the magistrate, and if Huffnagel doesn’t have you bound over for the assizes, I will resort to archaic measures to see justice done.”
“Do we confront Fletcher?” Miss Weatherby asked.
“We don’t dare,” Hyperia replied. “If there’s a chance the earl is being held in some London sponging house, or locked in some pantry in Fletcher’s cellars, Fletcher will be warned to move the earl, or worse.”
Miss Weatherby reversed her chair and rolled it a few feet back from the reading table. “We cannot sit on our hands and wait for a peer of the realm to be sneaked onto a transport ship.”
“That would take a deal of sneaking,” Sir Clive observed. “The transport ships mostly leave from London and Portsmouth.”
And yet, if Alphonse had met Dantry by moonlight and offered him a nip from a drugged flask, the sneaking was possible. But would Dantry have accepted such an offering from a political foe?
Yes. Hail-fellow-well-met soul that he was, he likely would have. Hate the mines, or the working conditions in the mines, or the pittance paid to the miners, but not the mine owners personally.
My stronger emotions didn’t admit of such refinement, but I had come to understand that Dantry had a romantic side, a passionate and sentimental side that ran a different course from my own primarily analytical nature.
“I don’t know where Dantry is,” Sheldon said, “but you must believe that I never wished him any harm. He’s a better man than I will ever be, and I resent him for that, but he’s also my only brother, and…”
Without that brother, Sheldon would be alone in the world, but for Sir Clive, whose years were numbered.
“You had better hope and pray we find him,” Miss Weatherby said, “and soon. I am tempted to send a message to Lord Huffnagel tonight. ‘Multiple felonies in want of justice. Come at once.’”
“Shall I take the letter for you, my dear?” Sir Clive asked. “Perhaps it can wait until morning.”
Sheldon rose. “Lord Julian said that business with the invoices will be between myself and Claude.”
Hyperia sent me a look. Deal with him, please.
“I say a lot of things, Sheldon, and Dantry isn’t here to sort you out, is he?
I will tell you this, though: I will give orders to the stable that you are not to be allowed a horse, and I will instruct your whole staff when they gather for evening prayers that you are confined to quarters.
I will post a regiment of Tamworths at your apartment door and remove the sheets and hangings from your bed, unless you promise these ladies that you will not elope before we know Dantry’s fate. ”
“House arrest,” Hyperia said. “You understand?”
“We’ll allow you to take some air on the terrace,” Miss Weatherby said, “if the weather is suitable, provided two footmen accompany you at all times.”
Great heavens, she was fierce. Also furious.
“I wished my brother no harm. I took a bit more from the coffers than I was entitled to, but—”
“But nothing.” I was tired of his cowardice and self-serving equivocation. We had solved one puzzle, but not the one that mattered most. “Do we have your word you won’t pike off to Paris with your box full of trinkets?”
“Yes.”
“Nor Lisbon or Town,” Hyperia added. “You will remain at the Dovecote until Dantry’s whereabouts are clear.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you agree?” the duchess asked sweetly. “You will remain here voluntarily until Julian, Sir Clive, or Lord Dantry gives you liberty to leave?”
“I agree. Now, if this inquisition is over, might I have the privacy of my apartment while the rest of you plan my fate?”
“Certainly,” Hyperia said. “Away with you. Perhaps you might spend the rest of the evening studying on the difference between an apology and an excuse. Dantry is owed the former, while you seem to have facility with only the latter. They are very different articles, and that difference might decide how Dantry deals with you.”
Her advice was meant kindly, as a stout kick to the backside could be meant kindly. Sheldon stalked from the room, and I put him from my thoughts. He would run and hide, or take his medicine, but the more pressing issue was what had become of the earl.
“The hour is not late,” Her Grace said, “but I have had quite enough excitement for one evening. I must find some soothing verses to restore my calm. Sir Clive, if you would light me up to my room?”
“Of course. Dulcie, have you need of an escort?”
“I can make my own way. I’m tempted to sleep outside Sheldon’s door.”
“Don’t put yourself to the trouble,” I said. “I’ll notify a Tamworth or three that Sheldon mustn’t sneak out on his guests, no matter how strongly he feels the allure of Town.”
“I would never survive such a rudeness,” Her Grace said. “And the household would never live it down.” She took a slim volume down from the shelves. “Good night, all.”
She wafted out on Sir Clive’s arm, Miss Weatherby trailing them. Hyperia closed the door in their wake.
“Is it my imagination, Jules, or are our friends and family leaving us alone together rather a lot of late?”
“We are engaged. Perhaps they seek to abet the course of true love.”
Hyperia led me to the sofa. We sat together in the middle, the library abruptly quiet but for the crackle of flames in the hearth and the tick of the mantel clock.
“What bothers you most?” Hyperia asked.
“The hat and spurs.” Not true. They bothered me exceedingly, and yet, we had just spent half an hour heaping scorn on Sheldon’s head because, essentially, he’d tried to deceive his nearest kin.
Deception had little place in an honorable relationship, and that bothered me unbearably, far more than any hat and spurs. “Perry, the last time I was at the Dovecote, something went amiss.”
She took my hand. If I hadn’t loved her with my whole soul before, that simple gesture of reassurance would have earned her my eternal devotion.
“What went amiss, Jules?”
“I did.”