Chapter Ten #2
Mr. Wicket shrugged. “Lady Marchfield installed me in the house over a month before you arrived. I built a false wall at the back of it. Had your footmen been more astute and perceptive, they might have noticed that the length of the cellar had shrunk by several feet. They might have noticed cement not entirely cured.”
“My footmen are not in the habit of suspecting everything they look at. Now why are you here, exactly?”
“That, I cannot tell you.”
Mrs. Right picked up the cleaver. “You’d better tell me, else I make your life a living misery.
I’ll drive you out of that cellar with sulfur smoke like the vermin I suspect you are.
I’ll see that every scrap of food and drink is securely locked up at night.
I’ll forever be hiding and jumping out at you with a meat cleaver.
You’ll slowly wither away from fright and lack of food. ”
“That seems extreme,” Mr. Wicket said, nervously shifting on his feet.
“But I’ll do it.”
Mr. Wicket sighed. “All right, if you must know. When one spies for the Crown, one may find that one’s expenses outpace one’s income.
Debts are incurred. I suppose it is, after all, a rich man’s game, but I did so like it.
In any case, the debts piled up and you know how creditors are, they can make things uncomfortable.
I saw the advertisement for a butler and I thought it would be an excellent place to lay low.
Then, when Lady Marchfield understood my background, she got ideas. ”
“What ideas?”
“She got ideas that it might be amusing to keep the staff on the back foot. I was to do anything I could do to frighten you all. Above all, I was not to be driven out. She’s dangled the settling of all my debts if I can last the season.”
“Has she now? Very like her. Well, Mr. Wicket, you will not be going on with your plan. I have a plan of my own.”
*
Winsome was in the drawing room with Valor, Felicity, and Serenity. Valor had spent the last fruitless quarter hour attempting to force Felicity and Serenity to admit they’d made a grave mistake in getting married.
To her disappointment, Felicity insisted she got on with Mr. Stratton like a house on fire.
He was a positive darling to their daughter, even though young Isabelle had inherited her mother’s temper and could shake the roof when she was crossed.
Then Serenity had gone all moony over Lord Thorpe.
Apparently, he saw to her breakfast tray personally each morning and inspected her eggs to ensure they were done properly—fried, with the edges just the smallest bit burnt.
He was, according to Serenity, the best man living.
Valor whispered something to Sir Galahad. While Winsome could not work out the words, the tone was most clearly of disgust. It was not clear what Sir Galahad’s own opinion was.
The drawing room doors swung open. Thomas hurried through them and shut the doors behind him in the most unaccountable manner.
“Is Mr. Wicket frightening you again, Thomas?” Valor asked. “Mrs. Right has promised she’ll get rid of him, but for now we are to pay no attention to him if he pops up somewhere.”
“No, Lady Valor. I mean, yes, he is frightening, he could be anywhere! But Lady Winsome, there is a gentleman here. I’ve kept him in the front hall as I did not know if I ought to let him in. He brings flowers.”
Winsome’s heart leapt. Had Lord Manderbey brought her flowers? She ought not accept them, though she knew she would. She ought not be happy about it, though she was.
“You did take his name, Thomas?” Felicity asked.
“Lord St. John is what he said.”
As fast as Winsome’s spirits had risen, they fell. What on earth was St. John doing, coming here and bringing flowers?
“Winsome,” Serenity said, “you know how sensitive I am to other people’s feelings. I can see you do not particularly like him.”
“No, not really.”
“Oh let us see him, though,” Felicity said. “I would like to hear what he has to say.”
Winsome sighed. She was not particularly interested in what he had to say, she’d heard quite enough from him at Lady Jellerbey’s candlelight picnic last evening.
And then, he was very pushy. She had much rather have danced with Lord Manderbey than Lord St. John but he’d just whisked her away.
There had been nothing she could say about it.
And then afterward, he seemed to always be hanging around, even when Lord Manderbey clearly wished he would go away.
He’d even attempted to see her to her carriage but her father had sent him back inside.
“It might hurt his feelings to be turned away,” Serenity said.
“Very well, show him in,” Winsome said reluctantly. Though, she was not as worried about his feelings as Serenity was.
Thomas nodded and slipped back out the door.
It was not a moment, before Lord St. John strode in. “Lady Winsome. Ah, Lady Felicity and Lady Thorpe.” He looked enquiringly at Valor.
“That is my younger sister, Lord St. John. Lady Valor,” Winsome said.
Lord St. John executed a formal and rather deep bow. He was rewarded for the effort by an unblinking stare. “What are those for,” Valor asked, motioning toward the pink primroses in his hand.
“Ah, I did suppose Lady Winsome might care for flowers.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Valor. That is enough, I think,” Winsome said. “Perhaps you might find Thomas and request a tea tray? Take the flowers with you so he might find a vase for them.”
Valor rolled her eyes, which was becoming an unfortunate habit.
She slid off the sofa. Patting Sir Galahad, she said, “Do not go anywhere, I will be right back.” She all but ripped the flowers from Lord St. John’s hand.
As she left the room, she said, loudly, “Nobody go anywhere or decide anything.”
Winsome motioned to an empty chair and Lord St. John sat down with alacrity. “I see you have a precocious young sister. I do admire precociousness.”
Felicity snorted. “We’ll see how much you admire it when she gets back.”
Not surprisingly, Lord St. John appeared startled to hear it.
“What brings you here, Lord St. John?” Serenity asked. “It is not the household’s at-home day.”
Winsome noticed the slighted flush across Lord St. John’s cheeks. He reached into a coat pocket and brought out a small book. “Actually, I thought Lady Winsome might be interested in this. It’s a book about Rio de Janeiro.”
“Oh dear,” Felicity said, “if it’s not a gothic novel set in that far off place, I cannot think she would be.”
“Well,” Lord St. John said, looking flustered, “it is just that we spoke of Rio de Janeiro last evening.”
Winsome refrained from pointing out that he spoke about it. She had no thoughts on it whatsoever other than she had no plans to relocate there.
Lord St. John laid it on the table. “I’ll leave it, in any case.”
The doors flew open and Valor marched through them. “There’s another one in the hall. Thomas wants to know if he can come in too.”
“Who is it, Valor?” Felicity asked, looking very amused to hear it.
She shrugged as if it did not matter who it was. “The tall one that was at dinner.”