Chapter Fourteen
Landry paced his drawing room. It was extraordinary how things could seem to be going so well and then take a sudden turn down a dark and dangerous alley.
His mishap with the chamber pot at Sir Jonathan’s scavenger hunt had not seemed to become public knowledge, though sooner or later somebody would have gone in there and witnessed the devastation. He felt terrible about that, but at least nobody knew who did it.
He’d returned to the garden and to Lady Edith’s side and he’d admitted to the greasy potatoes for his discomfort.
He’d not made any mention of his nerves being the other ingredient.
Lady Edith had been stern in her advice about avoiding them in future.
She explained that fried potatoes were notorious for taking a man down.
He had not known! She really did know so many handy pieces of information. And then, he did take comfort in being given a direction on greasy potatoes. He simply would not have them anymore. It was so simple.
The next day, he’d been very sanguine about going to his club. Until he got there. Why were so many gentlemen shaking their heads at him and turning away? He did not know. But, as it was proving uncomfortable and it would be even more uncomfortable to ask them why, he’d gone home.
When he arrived to his house, he discovered the cause of the frowns and turnings away. A letter from his aunt awaited him, and what a letter it was. Her letters were never pleasant, but this one was downright frightening.
Landry—
For shame! Never in my imagination had I thought that you would compromise a lady and cause such talk. This is what happens, I suppose, when you do not take on the advice of your relations. (Or let them in the door to give you that advice.)
I advise you to take on that counsel now. If you have not already done so, you must immediately repair to the Duke of Pelham, gain his approval, and get the banns read. Assuming, of course, he does not run you through on a green for this outrage.
The effrontery of compromising a duke’s daughter is not to be borne!
You have dragged this family’s reputation through the mud and I fully expect that you will drag it back out of the mud and repair this situation.
I expect that I will shortly hear of your engagement to Lady Winsome Nicolet.
Otherwise, I suggest you leave Town—my boys are very put out about this situation and one old butler will not hold them back from visiting you to express their ire.
Clara Frogbottom
Would she send her sons to break into the house? Was this idea that he had compromised Lady Winsome widely spoken of?
Landry reflected back on his experience upon entering his club and was afraid it was all over town. After all, how else would his aunt have heard of it?
Had the duke heard it? Had Manderbey heard about it? Had Lady Winsome herself heard of it? Had Lady Edith heard it?
Aside from his aunt, those four people would be exceedingly angry. He did not like people to be angry with him. Angry people were prone to say terrible things and threaten to do terrible things. He never could stand up against it.
How had such a story got started?
Landry rubbed his chin. He’d been gone for an extended time, had Lady Winsome also been missing for longer than expected too?
Could it be that ridiculous? The dowager had encountered them in the corridor, had that lady talked about it?
Had she made some speculation about it? It was outrageous if she had, as she must know of Manderbey’s interest in Lady Winsome.
But if not her, then who? The only other person he’d even got a glimpse of was St. John—he’d poked his head out of the ballroom, no doubt having repaired there to refill his wine from one of the sideboards.
Landry imagined he probably should not have run away from the dowager like a criminal.
Perhaps that had made him look guilty of doing something.
He was guilty of doing something, but not of compromising a lady.
He’d compromised a chamber pot and was only trying to get as far away from the evidence as he could.
It was extraordinary that anybody would imagine he’d compromised a lady. He could barely speak to ladies. How on earth could somebody look at him and see a smooth rogue?
But it seemed that somehow that was what people thought.
He threw down his aunt’s letter and hurried out of the drawing room to locate his butler.
The fellow could usually be found in the dining room, as he was a stickler for examining every piece of silver for a water spot.
The footmen usually hid while he was checking, lest they get blamed for anything found.
As expected, there he was, examining a fork with a quizzing glass. “Marley,” Landry said, “you did such a bang-up job keeping my aunt and cousins from entering the house.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Now, I wonder, for the next days, could you keep everybody out of the house? That is, if anybody was to turn up, could you keep them out too?”
“Everybody?” Marley asked.
“Absolutely everybody. There has been an unfortunate circumstance arising and I wish to be incommunicado until things settle.”
Marley nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll see to it, my lord.”
“You really are a good sort of fellow, Marley. I ought to give you another raise.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Just then, there was a pounding on the door. Landry whipped round and stared into the great hall in horror. Marley put the fork down and said, “I’ll manage it, my lord.”
“Good man,” Landry whispered as Marley strode past him.
He hid behind the doorframe as his butler answered the door.
“I must see Landry this instant, I do not care if he is busy, it is of the utmost importance.”
Landry shuddered. It was Manderbey. He sounded angry. He was such a large man, he could pick him up and throw him across the room if he chose. He’d never done such a thing, but there was always a first time!
“I am sorry, my lord, but Lord Landry fell down the stairs this morning and is currently unconscious,” his butler said.
Unconscious? That was good, very good indeed. A person who lay unconscious could not be interrogated or thrown across a room. An unconscious person must be left alone. Marley really was so clever. He ought to give the fellow another raise.
“Does a physician attend him?” Manderbey asked.
“He is on his way as we speak, my lord. He is attended by the housekeeper until that gentleman arrives.”
“I see. Bad luck, that. Of course I hope he makes a speedy recovery. Send updates to my house, I would like to keep apprised of the situation and be alerted immediately when he regains consciousness. I really do have something of import that must be discussed between us.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Landry listened to Manderbey depart and then tiptoed to the windows and peered out. The lord got on his horse looking very annoyed. He wanted to be informed the moment he regained consciousness! He would come back!
Marley returned to the dining room. “He is gone, my lord.”
“Yes, yes, very good,” Landry said. “Marley, that was an excellent notion about me falling down the stairs and becoming unconscious. I will take to my bed. Let nobody in! Everybody is to know I lay quite unconscious and can see nobody. I cannot answer any questions—I am entirely indisposed!”
“Very good, my lord. Shall I send up a tea tray?”
“Jolly notion, yes, I will lie in bed with tea. And perhaps a drop of laudanum for my nerves.”
Landry hurried above stairs and called for his valet. In not many more minutes, he was safe underneath his down covers and there he would stay until he was assured it was safe to come out.
*
Leland had an unsuccessful visit to Landry’s house. The fellow had somehow managed to fling himself down the stairs with such violence that he was currently unconscious. It was most unfortunate, not only for Landry himself, but for the information Leland was sure he had.
He’d returned home as the weather did not admit for taking his horse to the park and he had no wish to be beset with questions or looks at his club.
He was fairly sure that his interest in Lady Winsome had been noted and that this talk about Landry compromising her would be widely known by now.
The dowager swore she’d told nobody, but she’d received a note from one of her friends asking about the situation.
It made Leland wonder if somebody else had been inside the house and made the same leaps of judgment his grandmother had.
In any case, Apollo had made clear his opinion of the weather.
He did not suppose any horse liked to be out in pouring rain, but his own seemed to take a particular offense to it.
He kept pulling his head to attempt to look behind him.
Leland was sure it was in an effort to catch his eye and let him know he was blamed for the discomfort.
The last thing he had expected upon his return was to find St. John awaiting him. He was there, though, with the dowager in the drawing room. If he were looking for money again, he would be sorely disappointed.
“There he is,” the dowager said to Leland. “Well? Did Lord Landry admit his part in this shameful business?”
“Lord Landry is currently unconscious, having somehow fallen down the stairs at his house,” Leland said gruffly. “As well, I am quite sure there has been no shameful business.”
“Come now, Cousin, you cannot always have your way,” St. John said. “The facts will not bend, not even to a marquess.”
“If I’d been able to see Landry, I am certain I would have ascertained the facts.
As it is, I will be forced to visit the duke’s house and speak to Lady Winsome directly.
I’d rather not do it, as it must be an affront to the lady to be questioned on such a matter, but unless Landry wakes up sometime soon, I will need to.
Something needs to be said to quell these ridiculous rumors. ”