Chapter Eleven #2
Mr. Wicket paused, a faint blush arising on his pale skin.
“What else did she say?” Mrs. Right asked.
“There was some mention of Lady Edith’s wide hips being looked upon favorably, regarding children,” Mr. Wicket said, staring off into space.
He seemed to collect himself by giving his shoulders a little shake.
“After that startling conversation, I kept a close eye on the house. Lord Manderbey set off on his horse and I duly followed. When he’d emerged from the house, he carried a velvet case.
I was, naturally, interested to know what was in it and where he was going with it. ”
“Did you find it out?”
“I did. I followed him to Rundell & Bridge, where he went in with the case and came out without it. I was able to lurk near the window of the place and see the jeweler open the case. It was a rather fantastic platinum and diamond necklace. So, now we know.”
“Know what?” Mrs. Right asked.
“We know how severe the amount of debt Lord Manderbey carries must be. Do you not see it? A man takes jewelry like that into a shop and leaves without it? He’s sold it.”
“Sold it,” Mrs. Right muttered. “And whose was it? Not his own. It might be his mother’s or the dowager’s. He’s come to such a pass as to steal from his own family.”
“It does appear so, Mrs. Right. I have been informed, through a contact in the palace, that such a man might turn up here.” He paused, then said, “Though I cannot think where that letter has gone. Very inconvenient, there was a clue I have not yet unraveled. Trulogap. I’ve only had one idea about it, but it makes no sense. ”
Mrs. Right did not offer that the letter had gone right into her own pocket. “Trulogap sounds like the name of a horse.”
“A horse? Perhaps, but what is the real name? It was a scramble and I have had not much luck unscrambling it yet.” Mr. Wicket sighed.
“By the by, Lord Manderbey is upstairs at this very moment. He went first to Lord St. John’s house but only stood at the door talking to the butler and then left.
I thought I would be following him to his club perhaps, but he led me here. ”
“Don’t I know it,” Mrs. Right said. “A tea tray was sent for and Lord St. John is up there too. By the by, what is a scramble? Just out of curiosity.”
“A mix-up of letters that must be rearranged to show the correct word. The Lord Chamberlain is very fond of them, as inconvenient as they are. I think it makes him feel as if he’s in the spy business himself.”
“Oh, I see,” Mrs. Right said. So Trulogap was not the real word? What was the real word? Mr. Wicket named it a clue—a clue to what? And then, LC stood for the Lord Chamberlain. That was something she’d not guessed.
“Lady Winsome must be warned,” Mr. Wicket said.
“She’s already been warned,” Mrs. Right said, “though it has not seemed to put her off. I must think of some way to turn her from him.”
“Why not just go to the duke?” Mr. Wicket asked.
“I will if I have to, but His Grace depends on me to get rid of problems before he is troubled by them. In this particular situation, I believe I may need to take the sort of drastic action he’d rather not know about.”
Mr. Wicket appeared leery to hear of drastic action. That did not seem very stalwart for a man who lived in a wine cellar and claimed to be an expert in covert actions.
As for Mrs. Right herself, she was exceedingly stalwart when it came to her girls.
There really was nothing she would not dare.
This time, she would dare quite a lot. Her girl was at risk of spending a lifetime in misery if she were to go forward with Lord Manderbey.
She could not allow that to happen. She would not allow that to happen.
*
Leland did not find much satisfaction with the day so far.
His plan, which had not at all gone to plan, had been to stop at St. John’s house, point out to him that he was in no position to wed, further point out to him that Lady Winsome Nicolet was far above his reach, and then continue on to the park to exercise his horse.
The first bump in the road was the dowager insisting that he make a stop to deliver her diamond necklace to Rundell & Bridge. The clasp had broken and apparently it was an emergency that it be fixed and Mr. Rundell was waiting for it to arrive.
He’d done that, then he’d gone to St. John’s house.
His cousin’s butler, who knew him well but perhaps did not know of the current strife between them, had been free with the information that St. John had gone off to Lady Winsome’s house.
He could feel his blood begin to boil as he rode in that direction.
His blood had not cooled when he noted that St. John had brought flowers and a book on Rio de Janeiro. If he’d had any lingering doubts over what St. John was up to, they were speedily whisked away.
After a rather unsatisfactory visit, Lady Valor had practically thrown both of them from the house.
Leland had taken his opportunity to counsel his cousin as they were handed their horses.
He’d pointed out two facts. One, even if St. John were to get the Portuguese ambassadorship, he would not be out of the woods financially.
Two, Lady Winsome would not be taken in by a gentleman so obviously making a play for her dowry.
St. John had said, “The lady is comely and a duke’s daughter and I am a lord, why should I not be interested in pursuing her?
It is merely a fortunate happenstance that she comes well-funded.
I will get the ambassadorship and I will go to Rio de Janeiro.
With funds at my disposal, I will take advantage of the mining for precious gems to be done there. ”
“So that’s the scheme,” Leland had said. And what a scheme it was. He wanted to get his hands on Lady Winsome’s money so he could roll the dice on mining. A gambler right to the end.
“I hear your derisive tone,” St. John said, “though I do wonder at it.”
“You wonder at it?” Leland asked, incredulous. “You are near penniless and have not given up your profligate ways—gambling and making purchases you cannot afford. I understand you recently bought a horse, it was very ill-advised, considering.”
“Oh ho! Look at you! You are one to be talking about losing money on horses!”
Leland had no idea what he was talking about. Of course, that was nothing new. “I warn you to back away from Lady Winsome. She does not deserve such treatment.”
“Well, well,” St. John said, “it is fine for you but not for me. That’s right, I know what you’re up to. Your days of controlling everybody with your money have come to a close, Cousin.”
Leland had poked him in the chest and said, “Do as I say. I will not allow you to injure the lady by pulling her into a dangerous situation with a profligate man.”
He’d mounted his horse and rode off to the park. St. John had called after him something that sounded like Trulogap. He really never understood half of what that man said.
Leland could not say his ride was any more genial than the rest of the day had been.
Horses were very astute at picking up on moods and Leland’s own mood had put his horse out of sorts—Apollo had enough of the thoroughbred in him to provide for a spirited personality.
This day, he made himself difficult to control and did more sidestepping than going forward until Leland could get him going into a canter.
As he flew across the greens of the park, Leland considered that he’d thought he had more time than he likely did.
St. John was putting on the pressure and who knew what he might do next.
Who knew how Lady Winsome received his cousin’s attentions?
Especially if he, himself, had not yet made himself clear.
The fellow was handsome enough and titled.
If one did not know him as Leland did, he might be considered a serious candidate.
Perhaps he ought to make his interest more known, more definite, than he had. He felt there was some sort of unspoken understanding between him and Lady Winsome, but there was the chance that it was in his imagination alone.
He would see the lady at Sir Jonathan’s scavenger hunt. That might be the ideal moment to make himself more clear. After all, he did not expect St. John to turn up. Sir Jonathan’s annual event was for a charity he sponsored and therefore the price of the tickets was steep for what it was.
Of course, the dowager would be there, encouraged by the duke.
However, it sounded as if this year would be held in darkness so perhaps he could slip away from his grandmother.
He might keep her away from Lady Winsome before she said anything outrageous.
He might keep himself by Lady Winsome’s side.
Leland was determined to drop a clear hint of his interest.
*
Landry had bolted his doors against his relatives. Lady Edith had assured him that he did not need to admit anybody into his house unless he really wished to see them.
The idea had at first struck him as outlandish.
He was so used to his aunts and uncles and cousins descending upon him whenever they felt like it.
They just barged in and cornered him in his drawing room and listed their demands.
They never even bothered to write that they were coming.
At home, he spent a good deal of time nervously looking out windows if they hadn’t been to see him in a while.
Lady Edith explained that he was a lord with his own estate and nobody could push him around unless he allowed it.
What an idea.
The more he thought about it, though, the more he liked it. The more he liked it, the more he became determined to try it out. It would be enormously pleasant to avoid his relations. He really did not like any of them—they were very pushy.
He’d had a tentative word with his butler to ascertain his views, as that fellow would be the one faced with them all standing on the pavement when they chose to turn up. Could he keep them out?
Marley had been surprisingly enthusiastic about the notion. He’d said, “My lord, nobody you do not wish to see will be admitted to this house by me. I will inform the rest of the staff of the various persons who have made themselves persona non gratis.”
The fellow had looked rather gleeful and Landry got the idea that he’d been waiting for just such a directive. It began to seem as if he ought to have barred those terrible people from the house long ago.
Now, they had arrived. Landry pulled the curtain aside just the smallest bit so he could view the proceedings.
He felt his heart speed up, as there was always the chance they might push past his butler.
What would he do then? He would be questioned mercilessly about why he’d tried to stop them from coming in.
Aunt Agatha led them forward, as always dressed in her black widow’s weeds and looking as bad-tempered as ever. Her two lumbering sons stood behind her.
The lady had just been told that she would not be admitted. Really, Marley had taken the thing further than Landry had directed. He did not recall telling his butler to inform her that she would not be admitted “today, or any other day, forevermore.”
His aunt shook her cane at Marley, which she was often in the habit of doing. She demanded that he step aside, but he refused to step aside. His cousins offered their own threats, raising their fists and claiming they would push him out of the way if necessary.
Marley stood firm.
And then, in a miracle happening right in front of his eyes, they turned and left.
They left. They were gone. They’d come, and he’d not been forced to see them.
Marley knocked on the drawing room doors and entered. “They have departed, my lord, they will not trouble you again.”
“Well done, Marley,” Landry said.
“Yes, my lord,” Marley said.
“Really well done. I ought to give you more money than I do. Yes, I will arrange that.”
Marley appeared pleased. As well he should. As well Lady Edith should, as it had been her idea all along. The lady had such good ideas! He really did like to spend time with Lady Edith.
And then, there had been their conversation last evening.
He’d hinted, vaguely he thought, that he was nervous about the idea of getting married.
She’d told him he ought not to be. She’d said it was like anything else that was new.
One ought to just go forward, step by step, and the proper road would unfold in front of his feet as he went.
He’d never thought of it that way. It began to give him ideas.
After all, he did wish for children. He imagined he’d be a terrific father.
His own father had been very kind, and he wished to be just the same.
It had just always been his terror of women, or rather his terror of measuring up, that had seemed to make the thing impossible.
But there was a calm to spending time with Lady Edith.
She was so sure of everything and she did not look to him for direction.
He was not in charge and it occurred to him that he did not like being in charge.
Now, he began to imagine that it might really be possible to wed. Assuming Lady Edith would have him.
He must just gather the courage to ask. Or maybe she would ask and he would not have to do anything at all.