Chapter 21 #2
With no intention of giving up the shoe, the dog wagged its short terrier tail and scuttered away. Annabel gave up, when a voice startled her from behind.
“Good morning, Miss Blake.”
Annabel turned to find her nemesis, clutching a substantial book with a red leather cover.
“Mrs. Lackington.” Annabel brushed a tumbling lock of hair out of her eyes.
The woman took stock of her disheveled state. “And how is your sister this morning?”
“I haven’t seen her since last night, but I’m sure she’ll be better.”
“No longer delirious, then?”
“No more than usual.” Annabel couldn’t help herself.
Mrs. Lackington had no sense of humor in the matter. None at all.
“Good. Then let me not waste my time or yours, Miss Blake. You see, this plot of hers, I presume was your idea, is perfectly transparent. So, if you and your family are not gone from Ellesmere by tomorrow breakfast, I shall make things quite unpleasant for you all. Quite unpleasant, indeed.” She feigned a smile, the same way Harriet had the night before.
“Of course, you may trust me to be discreet on the matter until then, as long as you do the same, which I assure you is very much in your interest.” She brushed past Annabel into the breakfast room.
Annabel released the breath she’d been holding.
She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head against the wall, drooping as she listened to the “good mornings” all around, a “what can I get you” and “I hope you slept well, Mrs. Lackington.” The woman was no longer an idle threat; as Billy might say, shit just got real.
But at least Annabel knew her terms. A part of her wanted to run away and hide, but she remembered what Cassie had told her: Don’t be afraid of anyone.
So she lifted her chin and walked in, rumpled and lopsided, with only the one shoe, but determined not to give Mrs. Lackington the satisfaction of wearing her fear on her sleeve.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said, chipper as can be.
They all turned and took in her disarray. Fanny giggled into her napkin. Billy, looking more put together than usual, snort-laughed.
D’Evercy stood, swallowing a smile. “Good morning, Miss Blake.”
“I do apologize for my appearance,” said Annabel. “I’m afraid I fell asleep in my clothes.”
“You must have been exhausted,” said Fanny. “It’s no wonder.”
D’Evercy held a chair for her. “Please.”
Annabel sat down and put her napkin on her lap, faking grace and dignity. A servant poured her a cup of coffee and a dash of cream. Annabel thanked him and took a fortifying gulp. She turned to her right.
“And how are you this morning, Mrs. Lackington? I trust you and your daughter passed a restful night.”
“We feel quite at home at Ellesmere, I assure you,” she said. “Harriet should be down any moment. Once she finishes her morning toilette. Never a hair out of place, that one.”
Annabel took the dig and pretended to smile. “She is so lovely. It must take a very long time, indeed.”
Fanny tittered into her teacup. Billy gave Annabel a stealthy thumbs-up. Even D’Evercy had to admire Annabel’s wry remark so early in the day. It wasn’t everyone who could stand up to the Lackingtons.
“Miss Blake,” he said. “I thought perhaps I’d send to Kidlington for some of your things. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in a change of your own clothes.”
Annabel looked at Mrs. Lackington, whose lips were poised over her steaming hot tea, awaiting Annabel’s answer.
“How kind, but that won’t be necessary. I’m sure Cassandra will be better this morning.” Annabel looked at Billy. “And we can all go home, right, William? And get out of your hair, Mr. D’Evercy. We have no desire to overstay our welcome.”
“But I don’t mind at all. Your sister seemed a bit, shall we say, wobbly after her fall? I thought we might permit her a couple of days to regain her footing.”
“Oh, you should stay,” said Fanny, looking daggers at Mrs. Lackington.
“It is Ellesmere after all, where many come to feel at home.” She looked at Henry with a playful smile.
“I do believe Henry gets lonely here, all by himself, with his mother unable to leave London, and only his horses to keep him company.”
“Horses make fine company, Fanny,” D’Evercy chimed in to defend himself. “But you make a fair point.”
“Actually, I kind of like it here.” Billy looked at Fanny. “It’s a nice change of scenery.”
“You see, Miss Blake?” D’Evercy folded his napkin. “No harm in another few days.”
Annabel’s eyes darted around the table. She was utterly stuck.
D’Evercy looked at Billy. “In fact, Mr. Doofus, I’ve other matters to attend to today, but if you’re so inclined, I had in mind a hunt tomorrow morning, before breakfast. Perhaps you would join me.”
Annabel caught a distinct glower from Mrs. Lackington.
“Before breakfast?” said Annabel.
“A hunt?” said Billy.
“Indeed,” said Fanny, “we now commence a season during which all talk of balls is muted by endless ejaculations—”
Billy covered his spit take with his napkin.
“—on the persecution of small, helpless animals like grouse, partridge, pheasant, and fox cubs!”
Billy looked at her, doubly stricken. “Fox cubs?”
Fanny smiled at him, a kindred soul.
“But William can’t go hunting!” said Annabel.
“Would that be with horses?” Billy asked D’Evercy. “And real guns?”
“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I’m sure,” D’Evercy said. “And more grouse than fox cubs, I assure you.”
“You know what? I will,” said Billy.
“You really shouldn’t,” said Annabel, shooting a glance at Mrs. Lackington.
“I think I probably should.” Billy didn’t know where his sudden bluster was coming from, having had only a single lesson on a horse. But it seemed the manly choice and his best chance for a shot at the whole regiment thing.
“But if Cassandra’s better, dear cousin—”
“Then we shall have the pleasure of her company for breakfast,” said D’Evercy, ending the argument.
Fanny smiled, pleased. Mrs. Lackington stood abruptly, wheels turning.
“Well! My daughter and I will gather our things and go, unless, that is, our presence would be useful here, Mr. D’Evercy.”
A bold play, Annabel thought. But D’Evercy shook his head.
“No, no, not necessary at all, Mrs. Lackington. We’ll take good care of the Blake sisters.”
She picked up her red leather book as if to sweep out of the room but instead placed it on the table squarely between D’Evercy and Annabel.
“Why, Mr. D’Evercy. I nearly escaped with your Burke’s Peerage!”
Annabel nearly choked on a bite of toast.
“You’re most welcome to take it with you,” he said.
“Thank you, but of course we have one of our own at home.” She leveled her gaze at Annabel. “Everyone who is anyone has one of their own.”
Annabel closed her eyes, foundering, when a housemaid rushed in.
“Miss Blake! Your sister is asking for you. She seems not at all well.”
D’Evercy stood. “Shall I call for a doctor?”
“No, no.” A skeptical Annabel set down her napkin and looked between D’Evercy and Mrs. Lackington. “Thank you. But I’m sure it won’t be necessary. I’ll go to her.”
“I will, then, absolutely send to Kidlington for some things,” said D’Evercy.
Mrs. Lackington pounced. “But, Mr. D’Evercy, Harriet and I would be most glad to do it. Kidlington is practically on our way.”
“No!” said Annabel, standing suddenly. “That is, I’m sure William could go and save you the trouble. Couldn’t you, William?”
They all looked at Billy, who looked at Annabel with an apologetic shrug. “I think I, uh, might’ve given James the day off. I assumed we were staying.”
“That settles that,” said Mrs. Lackington. “Harriet and I shall stop on our way home this morning.”
“How kind of you, Mrs. Lackington,” said D’Evercy.
Annabel was cornered, with no way out. “Yes. Thank you.”
“If you can survive one day, Miss Blake,” said Mrs. Lackington, “rest assured, we shall be back by tomorrow breakfast.”
***
Upstairs, Annabel paced in front of Cassie, distraught.
“Burke’s Peerage is a who’s who of everyone who is anyone or has been anyone in the past five hundred years in England, and she won’t find our ‘Mr. Doofus’ in it!”
Cassie moaned. “Could you stop talking?”
“And now she and Harriet are going to Kidlington, to snoop around!”
“I don’t feel so good.”
“I just know she’s onto us!”
“I think I’ve got one of those nasty sinus things going on.”
Annabel finally stopped. Cassie’s voice was nasal and pained. She looked ragged and sweaty.
“You don’t look good at all.” Annabel sat on the edge of the bed and felt her forehead. “Wow. You’re burning up.”
“So, this might be a good time for me to be saved by a dose of penicillin.”
“Cassie, there is no penicillin.”
“No penicillin? Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“D’Evercy did offer to call for a doctor.”
“Okay, yes. Let’s do that.”
“But he’ll probably want to bleed you.”
“What?”
“With leeches.”
“Oh my god. Are you kidding me?”
“Well . . .” Annabel laughed nervously. “‘Nobody dies of a trifling cold.’”
“Die? I better not die!”
“You’re not going to die, Cassie. But we have to get out of here. Mrs. Lackington is flat out threatening us if we aren’t gone . . . by tomorrow breakfast!”
“Screw the bitch. I’m not going anywhere.”
Cassie covered her face with a pillow to block the light and moaned again. Annabel put her head in her hands.