Chapter Ten
“C aptain Harraway,” said Mrs. Kirby, after they had explained the situation to her and the steward, “the house is going to wonder why you came here as an artist, not as the owner of Carr Abbas and the lady’s betrothed.”
“True,” agreed the steward. “The village will also ask questions. Everyone has been talking about the gentleman artist and his servant.”
Jake’s captain didn’t hesitate. “I have not been to Ealing since I was a small lad. I had no idea how the people might be treating my betrothed. I wanted to keep my identity secret at least until I had been to the house and met the servants. Will that do it, do you think?”
“Along with an apology for your deceit and an open tab at the inn for the evening,” suggested Jake.
The captain chuckled. “And a half crown for everyone in the house as a wedding present,” he said.
The steward was nodding. “An apology and a gift will go far to soothe any troubled waters, sir. If that is all, sir, my lady, I shall return to my work.”
“Thank you,” said Captain Harraway. “We appreciate your forbearance, your advice, and your service.” And the steward left.
If Jake was any judge of people, he was not dissatisfied with the situation.
The rightful owner had come home, albeit in disguise.
Furthermore, the steward had been brought into his employer’s confidence, and his advice recognized and taken.
“I must also be about my work, Miss Ellen, sir, unless you need something else from me,” said Mrs. Kirby, rising to her feet. Jake got up, too, in courtesy to his old protector and friend.
“Thank you for your support and your help, Mrs. Kirby,” said Miss Ellen.
“Shall we assemble the servants now and tell them who I am?” the captain asked.
“Yes,” Miss Ellen agreed. “And then let us go into the village and tell the baker, the innkeeper, the vicar, and the postmaster.”
“I shall instruct the servants to come to the hall, captain,” said Mrs. Kirby.
“Shall Jake and I stay on, and escort you into Town for the wedding?” Captain Harraway asked after Mrs. Kirby had left the room. “I have nothing of importance to do in London—I have the marriage license and the church is booked. Staying here at the inn will give us more time together.”
“It would mean a very early start to reach the church on time,” Miss Ellen noted. “Our wedding is booked for eight-thirty in the morning.”
Jake approved of the idea of more time with Kat.
He had some serious courting to do. “Perhaps we could travel the night before,” he mused, “and Miss Ellen and Kat could stay at a respectable hotel that caters to ladies. That way, they would not need to spend four hours traveling on the day of the wedding.”
Both Miss Ellen and the captain nodded, and Kat grinned at him.
“It is decided, then,” the captain said. “I hear the servants in the entry hall, my love. Shall we go and tell them why we deceived them?”
He took Miss Ellen’s hand and led her to the door. Jake would have liked to have taken Kat’s, but since she was still thought to be a man, the gesture might not be well received by their audience.
The servants of Carr Abbas accepted Captain Harraway’s explanation of Miss Ellen’s presence in his house and his own deceptive approach to the village and his estate.
Kat was surprised at their mild reaction.
No one asked questions. They simply listened, nodded when asked if they understood, and filed out again.
No doubt they would have plenty to say behind their employer’s back.
Captain Harraway and Jacob then left on their own to disclose to the village the captain’s identity as heir to Carr Abbas—the captain had been reluctant to take Miss Ellen, in case the villagers had a more aggressive reaction than the household.
“It is excellent that my betrothed and yours have gone for a short while, Kat, for I wanted to speak with you about an important matter. Fetch a tea tray, would you, and include a cup for yourself, and I shall explain.”
As Kat approached the kitchen, she heard excited conversation. She stopped outside the door to listen.
“It is sneaky,” one of the footmen exclaimed. “That’s all I’m saying. Coming round here pretending to be someone else.”
“Sitting at our table,” pointed out a maid, “and cozening us into thinking what a nice gentleman he was.”
“He was worried about his lady,” said another maid. “He wanted to know we could be trusted to look after her.”
“As if we wouldn’t,” grumbled the footman. “And that’s another thing. Why didn’t she say she was not married to him yet? ”
“When was she supposed to tell you these personal details about herself, Billy Fletcher?” Kat asked, as she strode into the kitchen. “While the two of you were sitting down for tea, perhaps? Mrs. Kirby knew who my lady was, and so did the steward. The rest of you only needed to know your jobs.”
“Mr. Fivepence,” said the maid who kept trying to flirt with him, “is it true that Captain Harraway will give us all a present on the day of his wedding?”
“It is,” said Kat. “As he told you, Betty, he wants to apologize for his deception and thank you for the way you cared for his lady. Cook, my lady would like a tea tray now, please.”
“How much will it be, Mr. Fivepence?” That was another of the footmen, but all the servants leaned forward to hear her answer.
“Why would he share that with the likes of me?” Kat shook her head.
“And even if he had, I would have to keep it a secret if that was what he ordered. He likes his orders to be obeyed, says Mr. Flynn, his valet. Mr. Flynn is an old friend of mine. We worked in the same house, years ago, before Mr. Flynn went into the army. He says that Captain Harraway is a good master—kind, not too demanding, easy to please. But when he tells you to jump, he’ll expect you to jump. ”
“An officer,” said a footman, nodding. “They might seem easy-going, but they won’t tolerate any disrespect.”
“And quite right, too,” said Cook. “And I shall not tolerate gossip, so be about your work.”
The cook had been busy filling a teapot from a boiling kettle, placing it on a tray with cups, saucers, and plates.
She now added a plate that her assistant had filled with morsels from the tins of baked goods she kept in the pantry.
She brought the results to Kat. “Here is your lady’s tray, Mr. Fivepence. ”
“Thank you, Cook,” Kat said. “It all looks delicious.”
Cook must have assumed that Captain Harraway was still in the house, for she’d provided two cups, saucers, and plates. All to the good. Kat was ready for a cup of tea, and the little sponge cakes looked delicious.
She carried the tray up to Miss Ellen’s little private sitting room, where she found Miss Ellen, Mrs. Kirby, and the manor’s seamstress, Mrs. Martin, waiting for her. The seamstress was running her measuring tape between her fingers.
“Kat, I want you in skirts for my wedding,” said Miss Ellen. “You shall be my witness, my dear. And you also need new gowns suitable for the lady’s maid of Carr Abbas.”
“You have a greater need of new gowns than I, Lady Ellen,” Kat protested, though her heart skipped at the thought of Jake seeing her in a gown cut to fit her properly.
“And I shall have them, dear Kat,” replied her mistress. “Mrs. Martin shall explain.”
“I know of a place that sells partly-made gowns, Miss Fivepence,” said Mrs. Martin. “It is in London, but with your measurements and Lady Ellen’s, I can select garments that will need only minor adjustment and finishing.”
“Captain Harraway will send Mrs. Martin into London tomorrow,” said Miss Ellen, with a smile that set Kat thinking about cats and cream pots. “Once she returns, we shall be fitted, and Mrs. Martin will have all the help she needs to complete the work.”
“Several of the maids are deft with their needles,” Mrs. Kirby explained.
“I can sew,” Kat offered. It was not her favorite activity, but accuracy and speed had been beaten into her.
“You cannot sew ladies’ garments while pretending to be a man,” Mrs. Kirby pointed out. “Mrs. Martin will keep your secret, but for the next few days, you cannot leave your mask behind. We cannot have people gossiping about our mistress before she is safely married to the master.”
Which was true, and Kat would never do anything that might hurt Miss Ellen.
Besides, it was not for long. The masquerade was nearly over.
In four days, she would be abandoning breeches and boots.
In some ways, she looked forward to wearing skirts again.
But she would miss the freedom of a male appearance, and she’d miss the boots.
“If I may take your measurements, Miss Fivepence?” Mrs. Martin asked.
Mrs. Martin had nearly finished when the first footman came upstairs to announce a visitor.
From behind the dressing screen where Kat stood on a stool while Mrs. Martin measured her from her waist to her ankles, Kat heard him say, “A Lieutenant Waterford, my lady. He says he has a message for the Lady of Carr Abbas.”
“I suppose I had better see him,” said Miss Ellen.
“Tell him Lady Ellen is in a meeting with her dressmaker, but will see him shortly,” Kat told the footman. “My lady, I shall come down with you. Mrs. Martin, do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, yes,” said the seamstress. “You can dress again, Mr. Fivepence.”
Good enough. Kat had no intention of allowing her Miss Ellen to meet a stranger without Kat being there to protect her. “I shall be right with you, my lady.”
A few minutes later, they entered the small parlor that was used for visitors who were not well enough known to be invited into the drawing room.
Lieutenant Waterford lumbered to his feet.
The man had perhaps once been handsome, but he was now seriously overweight, and the lines on his face indicated a chronically sour disposition.
Nonetheless, he attempted a charming smile, though the curve of his lips did not accord with the calculation in his eyes. “Do I have the honor of addressing the Lady of Carr Abbas?” he asked.
“I am she,” Miss Ellen replied. She took a chair and invited Waterford to be seated.
He wasted no time in getting to the point.
“My lady, I understand you have recently become betrothed—through the machinations of the Black Widow of Whitehall—to one Captain Harraway. I know the man well, my lady, and I felt it incumbent upon me to come to warn you. You have been taken in by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
What part Mrs. Dove-Lyon played in this, I cannot be certain.
Perhaps she, too, was a victim of Harraway’s blandishments but I understand that he paid her in order to have the opportunity to cozen an innocent lady. ”
Miss Ellen rose to the occasion, with a simple, “For what purpose?”
Well done, Miss Ellen. Give the man enough rope to hang himself .
“Why, my lady. Is it not obvious? You have a thriving estate, a gracious manor… and he is a penniless out-of-work soldier.”
Even a child would question how a penniless man had produced a bribe large enough to tempt the famous matchmaker.
Kat kept the thought to herself. Footmen didn’t typically break into conversation between their mistress and a visitor.
Besides, Miss Ellen knew, none better, that the so-called penniless soldier was the owner of the estate, and not her.
This visitor didn’t, clearly, but he had no chance of bamboozling Kat’s lady.
“I see,” said Miss Ellen. “Thank you for coming to tell me, Lieutenant Waterford.”
The man bowed, and Kat heard something creak. Was it a corset, perhaps? “It was my duty, my lady.”
Miss Ellen inclined her head in acknowledgement and spoke to Kat. “Fivepenny, ask Charles to see the lieutenant out.” She stood to signal that the meeting was over.
Since Kat had left the parlor door open and Charles was standing just outside in the hall, he entered the room almost before Miss Ellen had finished speaking. “This way, sir,” he said.
The household wasn’t big enough for a butler, but Charles was an excellent first footman. He was tall and broad shouldered, and ruthlessly polite. If Waterford had any thoughts of overstaying his dubious welcome, he forgot about them, made his farewells and left.
“We shall have to tell Captain Harraway about that man,” said Miss Ellen, scowling after their visitor. “And don’t tell me that Captain Harraway might be as much of a liar as I am, Kat, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon too, for I shall not believe you.”
“I shan’t. Jacob vouches for your captain, Miss Ellen. And I would stake my life—I have staked your future—on my sense that Mrs. Dove-Lyon is honest, according to her lights. Furthermore, that man was a villain if ever I met one.”
“I wonder what he really wanted,” said Miss Ellen.
To Kat it was clear. He wanted to sow discord. What Kat wondered was what he would do when he found out that he’d failed.