Chapter Twelve #3
He found Mr. Smuckers in the great hall and said, “I trust the two housebreakers are still secured in the dining room?”
“Indeed, my lord,” Smuckers said, “Lord Smythesdon and Mr. Granger are guarding them this morning. The snow rollers came through at dawn to clear the roads. Johnny Johns has gone to Pendleton Park for the magistrate.”
“Might you send a tray of coffee and rolls into the library. And writing things too. A dozen sheets of paper, I think. Mr. Lelander and I are to have a conference.”
“Of course,” the butler said, looking very surprised to hear it.
“By the by, very clever to ice the steps last night. And the pump-can of gin was rather original.”
Smuckers chest puffed out. “I have given long consideration to what steps I would take in such a situation, and what traps I might set. After the fish fork situation, I knew I must act. My moment to defend the Hall had arrived.”
Burkhart nodded gravely, desperately trying not to laugh.
Never were two rogues undone by something so ridiculous.
Everybody in the house had seen that the fellow did not know which was his fish fork.
His old tutor had always said manners must be perfect because people noticed what you imagine they haven’t. It turns out, he was all too right.
As for the Hall having a butler who’d spent years devising schemes to defend the house, that was rather endearing. He did not suppose his own butler would ice the steps or run around in the middle of the night with a pump-can of gin.
The library was quiet in the early morning. It was a fine day with the sun out and the snow glistening under its shine. It was a peaceful day in the winter countryside with no hint of what had transpired the evening before or that two rogues were currently tied up in the dining room.
He noticed the clock was back in its place on the mantel. He assumed the Patinir would be rehung in the drawing room.
Burkhart scanned the books until he was interrupted by Smuckers and a footman coming in with a coffeepot and cups and a tray of rolls, butter, and jam. Lelander entered as the butler was leaving, looking about him as if he could not imagine what he did there.
After the doors closed, Burkhart said, “I do not think there will be any point to hemming and hawing about our current situations. I am interested in pursuing Miss Pansy Granger and I believe you are interested in pursuing Miss Poppy Granger.
"I will not deny it."
"No, there really would not be a point to that.”
“I see. Other than that announcement, what else did you have in your mind? Not that I am accustomed to wondering what goes on in your mind.”
“What else is on my mind is that we are both on the verge of being rejected.”
This seemed to take Lelander aback.
“You know it’s true,” Burkhart said. “Do not pretend you have not thought of it.”
“Because they will not be separated.”
“They will not be separated. I have thought it, and it was entirely confirmed last night. Miss Pansy was willing to put herself in mortal danger to stay with her sister. I suspect Miss Poppy would have done the same had the roles been reversed.”
Lelander nodded. “I think it likely.”
“So do not expect either one of them to be separated over us.”
“Well, perhaps Miss Poppy will accept me and…and…Miss Pansy will come to live as her companion.”
“Over my dead body and it might just as easily go the other way.”
“What would you suggest then?”
“We need a treaty between our houses.”
“A treaty?”
“A document that hammers out how we are all to go forward.”
“I see. Something we can show the ladies to assure them that that they would not be separated.”
“Just so.”
“It would have to involve my viscount and your earl.”
“It would. But perhaps we start between us and then deal with them.”
“Very well.”
“Once we have hammered something out, we’ll need to return home and gain agreement from our houses. Then we can return and be free to make our proposals with what I hope is success.”
“We should advise the viscount of our plan,” Lelander said. “I would not like him to keep inviting gentlemen into the house.”
“Most heartily agreed.”
“We say nothing to the ladies until we can creditably say they will not be separated.”
“Agreed. I assume you will be able to manage your viscount.”
“I assume you will be able to manage your earl.”
“I will more than manage him. I will threaten to leave and gain employment in York.”
“Doing what?”
“I have no idea. The point is the threat.”
“I see. Well, I could always say I’m going to Manchester, I suppose. My mother is very fond of me, she will pressure the old man.”
“My mother positively adores me. She will press the earl terribly.”
“I refuse to argue over whose mother loves who more.”
“Agreed. We have too much else to hammer out.”
And so, over coffee and rolls, the negotiating began.
As might be expected when Yorkists and Lancastrians attempted to agree on anything, it went on long and every point was debated and argued over. There were various stompings to the window and violent pokings of the fire. There were heavy sighs and rolled eyes and crossed arms.
All very expected.