Chapter Thirteen
Pansy could not think what Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander were doing closeted in the library. It had seemed odd that they’d been in there when she came down to breakfast.
Pansy had stared at Poppy over breakfast, trying to guess what her sister’s thoughts were on it. Poppy shrugged and she supposed her sister could not guess any better than she could.
It must be a positive sign that they spent so long together.
Then it grew more odd as time went on. Certainly, they would have come out when the magistrate arrived, but they had not.
Mr. Weston had interviewed all the witnesses but for Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander.
He’d interrogated the housebreakers themselves.
He claimed there was plenty of evidence without those two gentlemen and he could gather their statements on another day.
Wagner and Gennings were bound over to the next Assizes and would be kept jailed until then.
Pansy was very glad to see them out of the house. She had tossed and turned the night before, fearing they might find a way to break free of the ropes that bound them to dining room chairs.
Nobody seemed to know why Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander were behind closed doors, though. Mr. Smuckers had just brought them a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of ale on the viscountess’s directive.
Were they never coming out? Jimmy had told her that the paths through the garden had been cleared and gravel sprinkled round to ensure firm footing.
Pansy tried not to laugh at Poppy’s expression at the mention of gravel.
She assumed her sister would welcome the chance of slipping on ice again so that Mr. Lelander could catch her.
In any case, the day was far warmer than it had been and the snow on the drive was already quickly melting under full sun.
It was a fine day. They should all be out walking together.
Then the viscount had returned from a very short excursion with Mr. Tidewater, as apparently there was nothing to be done over his broken fence as the snow surrounding it was too deep. He went into the library and did not come out for some time.
Then when he did come out, the two gentlemen still stayed behind. Pansy was getting the idea that if they did not come out for dinner, she was going in.
Finally, they gave up waiting around in the drawing room and decided to accompany Miss Millthorpe home.
The lady was determined to go and had already consulted with Johnny Johns.
The sleigh would be taken, though the drive and the road could easily accommodate a carriage at this point.
Miss Millthorpe’s little lane was shaded and the snow rollers would not have gone through.
The coachman’s plan was to avoid the Hall’s drive and go over the lawn.
He was bringing tools with him to fix the lock on Miss Millthorpe’s bedchamber window to give her peace of mind.
As they went out, Pansy looked toward the library’s windows. What were they doing in there? Neither were looking out; she could not see them.
“No staring, if you please,” Miss Millthorpe said.
Pansy turned away and climbed into the sleigh.
“We just do not understand what they could be doing in there,” Poppy said as they set off across the lawn.
“Of course you do not, as you have been told nothing. You may never be told.”
“It is very strange though,” Pansy said.
“Make no leaps of the imagination, is my advice.”
“It is very hard not to.”
“Hard is not a reason to avoid a thing.”
They made good time to the cottage as it was not very far. Pansy thought the fresh air must do them good.
While Johnny Johns worked on fixing the window lock, Miss Millthorpe made tea and set out some of the biscuits Mr. Moreau had sent with her. She carried a cup with a biscuit balancing on the saucer to Johnny Johns as she knew very well how he liked his tea. She bustled back into the parlor.
“I am glad to be home,” Miss Millthorpe said. “This has been quite the experience.”
“Everybody was so brave, I thought,” Pansy said.
“Especially our Miss Millthorpe, beating those two rogues over the head.”
“It was my pleasure. I plan to needlepoint a pillow cover depicting those rogues falling on the icy step for Mr. Smuckers. He will wish to have his ingenuity memorialized. He’s been intending to save the house for years and now he’s done it.”
“Yes, lovely,” Pansy said, gazing out the window.
“Very nice,” Poppy murmured.
“I can see you are both distracted.”
Pansy turned toward her old governess. “It’s just, well it’s just that Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander could be walking out with us,” she said. “It is such a fine day for it.”
“That is what is on my mind too,” Poppy said. “Why should they prefer their own company to our company? They do not even like one another.”
“I would speculate that perhaps they are growing to like one another, were I a person prone to speculation. Which I am not.”
“That would be very good news, of course,” Pansy said.
“But if they are going to spend all their time with one another…”
“That is not good news.”
They sat in silence as Miss Millthorpe sipped her tea. The only sound in the parlor was the banging from the lady’s bedchamber as Johnny Johns fixed the window lock.
And the sighs emanating from the twins.
“For heaven’s sake,” Miss Millthorpe said. “You will see the gentlemen at dinner.”
“That’s true,” Pansy said. “I’ve already decided that if they are not out of the library when the second gong rings, I’m going in.”
“I’ll go with you,” Poppy said.
“It would be very untoward to burst in upon gentlemen conducting business of some sort. Very untoward, indeed.”
“Untoward? I can live with that,” Pansy said.
“As can I,” Poppy said. “I do not believe being untoward will weigh on my conscience at all.”
Miss Millthorpe did not comment on that, but she did purse her lips, which was her primary expression of disapproval. She picked up her bag of sewing and went to work on the edges of what would be a pretty linen tabletop for her dressing table.
As the minutes ticked by, slowing rolling into an hour, Pansy found it very hard not to slump. Her mood was slumping and had she been alone with Poppy her body would have been slumping too. However, Miss Millthorpe could not abide slumping.
Pansy was left to watch the icicles on the lady’s eves slowly drip, drip, drip under the sunshine. The world was so bright out there, though she did not feel so bright inside.
After what seemed like ten hours but was likely only a bit past one hour, Johnny Johns returned to the parlor.
He held his bag of tools in one hand and his cup and saucer in the other.
He carefully placed his cup and saucer on the parlor’s table, as everybody knew it was part of a set and woe be to the individual who broke one.
“It’s all sorted out, Miss Millthorpe. The new lock will keep out any rogues havin’ the audacity to turn up.”
“I thank you, Mr. Johns. I will sleep securely in the knowledge of it. Now, do take these drooping young ladies back to the house. Perhaps the fresh air will revive them."
Pansy produced a weak smile, though really, it was only Lord Burkhart who could revive her. He was, just now, entirely in control of her moods. If he smiled at her, she was happy. If he disappeared into the library for the day, she was drooping.
Lelander had been surprised by Burkhart’s idea of a treaty, but he was amenable to it. It turned out they’d both been thinking the same thing—the likelihood that Miss Poppy and Miss Pansy would agree to be separated was very slim.
Or rather, Lelander had been determinedly not thinking about it. Whenever the idea had presented itself, and the answer to that question presented itself, he’d pushed it out of his mind.
While it pained him to admit it because Burkhart was never right, Burkhart was right. If things were to remain standing where they stood now between Pepperdon Hall and Westport House, both gentlemen would probably be rejected.
He’d agreed to a treaty between them, though he was well aware it would be a steep mountain to climb at home.
His viscount positively despised Burkhart, the animosity mostly built on what Lelander had to say about him.
He’d quite made it an artform to recount to his father some encounter with Burkhart.
Most of them featured the gentleman attempting to appear superior and failing miserably.
That would generally prompt an outraged speech about sore losers. Now he would pay a price for that.
He supposed he should not leap ahead just yet. Perhaps he should just celebrate the success of getting as far as they had this afternoon. He really had not expected it to take as long as it did.
Lelander should have predicted it would though.
Every detail was an argument. Burkhart stubbornly insisted his family be mentioned first, by rank.
Lelander just as stubbornly argued that his family’s name ought to go first, as they were an older family by several generations.
They’d decided to take turns on what Burkhart described as the “articles of the peace treaty.” The House of Westport went first in the title, while Miss Poppy Granger was mentioned first in article one.
Neither of them had anticipated the viscount joining them in the library. They’d planned to approach the gentleman after dinner. Nevertheless, there he was. He’d wished to know what they were doing. Then he’d wished to know why they were doing it.
That was when they apprised him of their wishes to pursue his daughters.
They had not expected his reaction. After all, they were both respectable and would offer his daughters a title and a secure place in the world. The fellow had raved that this was what always happened when gentlemen turned up and was he really to be expected to part from his last two daughters.
Lelander rather thought he was to be expected to part from his daughters, last or otherwise. What else would he do? Keep them locked in the house as two spinsters? Pointing out these facts did not seem advantageous at that moment though.