Chapter 19 #2
St. Didier manned the decanters. Alice had gone abovestairs to tidy up, and Bernard was stalking along the shelves like a cat who heard mice behind the walls.
“She’ll have hidden them,” Bernard said.
“I know my mother, and any letters from Lord Throckmorton are likely in the false bottom of her jewelry box. They might have been useful for extorting favors from his family at some point. Who knows? Alice’s letters might also still be extant. Mama keeps ten pounds there as well.”
Cam sorted through the stack of mail on his desk out of habit, though he wasn’t inclined to open what had arrived. A well-trained secretary could handle most of it.
“Huxley, you surprise me,” St. Didier said, handing drinks all around. “Snooping?”
“I wasn’t. I needed something sharp to get a splinter out and did not dare disturb the order of Mama’s sewing basket.
It occurred to me that a brooch or watch pin would have a sharp point on its fastener.
The false bottom is obvious, and a corner of the ten-pound note was sticking out.
I did not, in fact, snoop even when tempted to do so. ”
St. Didier served himself a modest portion.
“Something has caught Lorne’s attention.
If you sit at the desk and start opening mail, your lordship, I will toss you out the window.
Miss Singleton will expect you present and focused on the instant difficulties, not wooing your abacus with one hand while you admonish your factors with the other. ”
Cam brandished the note in his hand. “Worth Kettering has consulted with his dowagers, old soldiers, and beldames.”
“Of which he has an enviable collection.” St. Dider sipped delicately.
“They invest with him, and they keep him apprised of every on-dit, courtship, and failing marriage in Mayfair. Their godchildren, nieces, nephews, grandchildren, cooks, lady’s maids, and pensioned retainers add to their stores of intelligence, as do their old flames.
I vow that’s half the reason Kettering has succeeded. ”
“They dote on him?” Cam asked.
“And he dotes on them. Listens to the old dears reminisce and speculate and imply. Kettering is married now. The mind boggles at the stores of knowledge he and his lady will collect, and he is said to have the royal ear as well.”
“Happily married,” Cam said, scanning the single page written in a tidy, slashing script. “And his old dears, in this case, have come through for us. God bless dear Dinky for jumping ship.”
St. Didier looked intrigued, and Bernard’s pacing became more of a thoughtful saunter around the room. Cam finished reading the letter and passed it to Bernard.
“Well, well, well,” Bernard said, looking, of all things, pleased. He, in turn, handed the letter to St. Didier.
Alice joined them and, before St. Didier could see to it, served herself a drink.
“You lot look conspiratorial. If you’re thinking to settle my delicate nerves with your gentlemanly discretion—which we call keeping secrets and sneaking about in small boys—spare me your consideration.
I’ve decided that Lady Josephine deserves to see more of the world. ”
Bernard’s scowl was ferocious. “You’d put her on remittance? She has terrorized my congregation, tried to terrorize me, and served you one bad turn after another, and you’d simply set her loose on some unsuspecting Welsh village?”
St. Didier passed Alice the letter from Kettering.
“Bernard,” Cam said, “you don’t snoop, you have an instinct for fairness, and when you aren’t in a pulpit, you can be refreshingly blunt. When we have dealt with your mother, you and I need to have a long talk.”
“You shall not force a bishop’s miter on me. I have never sought to be a bishop, nor do I want any parts of any musty cathedrals. While we’re on the subject, you may spare me the blandishments of an Oxford appointment.”
St. Didier peered into his drink and might have muttered something about no vocation whatsoever.
“Oh my,” Alice said, folding up Worth Kettering’s epistle. “Lady Josephine was imprudent.”
“She was played for a fool,” Cam said. “Set her cap for a duke’s son and allowed him liberties. When he was unforthcoming with a courtship, Josephine had to settle for the pity proposal offered by Uncle Ambrose.”
“If I could choose a parent to disassociate myself from,” Bernard said, “it wouldn’t be Papa. He was always kind to me, and he referred to Mama as a woman scorned. Now I know why.”
Alice brandished the folded letter. “Kettering’s sources put it in a different light.
Lady Josephine made a first-class fool of herself.
She’d had three Seasons and no offers. She was desperate enough to openly pursue a younger ducal son known for indiscriminate raking.
She neglected to consider the fellow’s family resources and her own family’s need for coin.
One might feel sorry for her, were it not apparent that she was well past twenty at the time and brought her fate upon herself, aided and abetted by her own mercenary family. ”
“Hence,” Cam said, “she avoids the higher reaches of polite society and contents herself with tunneling among the distaff side of churchly circles. Obscure, but not too obscure.”
“What will you do with her?” St. Didier asked, directing the question to Alice.
“She is to be removed to the Antipodes. Whether she puts us to the bother of a trial or flees the threat of prosecution is up to her, but I will happily lay information regarding kidnapping, and I suspect Bernard has a few complaints regarding his mother’s interference with his mail.”
“We have better than that,” Cam said. “Bernard is confident that Lord Throckmorton’s letters to you are secreted among Lady Josephine’s effects, and any Yorkshire jury will find something to convict her of when it becomes known she thwarted a deceased soldier’s attempts to behave honorably toward his sweetheart. ”
And if the jury didn’t convict her, public opinion, especially churchly public opinion, finally would.
“I want this dreadful business concluded,” Alice said, taking a seat behind the desk. “Might we please get this over with? She all but thrust me into Lord Throckmorton’s arms on at least three occasions, and my temper might soon get the best of me.”
Alice’s temper did not get the best of her. She stated plainly to Lady Josephine the options that remained: voluntary immediate emigration to the Antipodes, involuntary transportation, or an indefinite tenancy among the inmates of a walled estate.
Lady Josephine wheedled and wept, threatened and thundered, and snorted and sniffed—did she ever sniff—and in the end, she was made to appreciate the advantages of voluntary passage.
Bernard nevertheless unearthed the letters as well as correspondence belonging to half the shire and passed them to Alice for safekeeping.
Having dispatched Lady Josephine to a less severe fate than she deserved, it was agreed that the evidence of her felonies would be preserved in perpetuity against any and all contingencies.
And when her ladyship was once again confined to a guest room, and St. Didier and Bernard were off to indulge in a game of billiards, Alice and Cam retired abovestairs for some private discussion that inevitably ended in a protracted, extremely enjoyable afternoon nap.
The first of many.