Page 33

A fter the masque, Serenity had gazed out her window at the flickering of the lamps around the square as tears of happiness streamed down her cheeks. Certainly, there would be something definite to talk about soon.

She had hoped a walking of the dogs would commence on the following morning.

The walk might be just the opportunity for Lord Thorpe to say something decided.

Once more, though, nature ran against her.

The icy rain did not even come down straight as the day dawned, but rather hurled itself at the windows as if determined to get inside.

After breakfast had come and gone with no let up of the rain, she resigned herself to it. Her family had gathered in the drawing room and even her father had not wished to go to his club in such weather. He said the carriage horses would be exceedingly cross about it, and rightly so.

Mrs. Right had come in and Serenity was becoming not quite sure of what their dear housekeeper thought of Lord Thorpe. She had liked him. She had liked him exceedingly, Serenity had thought. But now, it seemed that every time his name was mentioned, she frowned.

She supposed she ought not read too much into it. A housekeeper must have a thousand matters to consider and was probably hardly listening to the chatter as she straightened the mess Valor had made with a pile of books.

In any case, she would see Lord Thorpe soon enough. It could not rain all the time. There was every chance that the morrow would bring only a light misting.

The drawing room doors were thrown open and Thomas hurried in and closed them behind him. He looked a little panicked and just stared at the duke.

The duke pulled a curtain back to look outside to the square. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “Lady Misery has arrived. Well, tell her I am not at home. None of us are at home. We’ve all gone on an extended trip somewhere so she need not return on any other day. We’ll see her in five years!”

“Your Grace,” Thomas whispered. “It is not just Lady Misery…I mean, Lady Marchfield. She’s brought the bishop!”

Mrs. Right dropped the pile of books that had been in her arms.

Serenity looked to her father. Gracious, why was the bishop coming to see them? Did he know they did not attend church while they were in Town?

*

Mrs. Right stared at the books strewn on the floor, her mind racing back in time over the last twenty-four hours.

It was not a very good time for the bishop to turn up!

What if Lord Thorpe’s carriage was to collapse right in view of him?

There would probably be an inquiry. It was her experience that no good could come of the church looking into a thing.

Last night, she had been careful to clean the oil from her hands, though there was still some telltale evidence lodged under her nails. Her outing had been thrilling and terrifying—she had felt herself one of the twelve spies of Moses sent to survey Canaan.

She had finally hit on a strategy of emptying Lord Thorpe’s stable of his staff so she might tiptoe into the carriage house and meddle with the springs on his coach. She had discovered the name of his stablemaster and then hired a boy to deliver a message to him while Lord Thorpe was at the masque.

Baxter—

I write on behalf of Lord Thorpe. We are at the scene of a terrible accident between two carriages who had engaged in a race.

There were multiple injuries as there were hundreds of people come to watch.

Bring every soul in the stables to the Wapping High Street to provide assistance.

Do not bring Thorpe’s carriage as it is not suited to the task.

Rather, hire as many hackneys as you can find so we might provide transport for the injured.

Meckelton

Poor Baxter would not have the first idea who Meckelton was supposed to be, but he would not be expected to know every lord of the ton .

At precisely eleven o’clock, Mrs. Right had donned a dark cape and carried her bag of tools to the back garden.

She threw a step stool over a short wall and climbed over, making her way across Lord Luddington’s garden.

On the far side she encountered a higher wall and used the step stool to get over it to Lord Thorpe’s mews.

She lurked in the shadows and it was not too long a time before she saw her messenger, and then the flurry of activity that accompanied it.

The stable hands were gone off to the Wapping High Street to assist in the tragic carriage accident that never was.

It would take them ages to secure hackneys, get there, wander around looking for evidence of an accident, and finally return home.

She had arranged more than enough time to do her work.

It was well she did so, too. It had taken her a while to determine where she ought to apply a hacksaw and which bolts to loosen.

She’d done her best with it, not being an expert on disabling carriages.

She’d had no choice, Lord Thorpe must be made to pay for tricking Serenity into thinking he was an upstanding gentleman when really he’d compromised a poor maid in his household.

Of course, the going back to the house was complicated by the step stool being on the other side of the higher wall. With all her might she’d somehow got over the top of it, though she’d left her bag of tools behind. She really ought to have thrown them over first, but they were very heavy.

Nevertheless, she had accomplished it. The carriage springs meddled with was her goodbye gift to Lord Thorpe before the Nicolet family disappeared from his view.

Though, Mrs. Right was still wondering when the duke would announce they were all returning to the Dales.

She’d thought it very peculiar that the duke should take Serenity to the masque.

Lord Thorpe would be there—what plan did the duke have to keep his daughter away from the rogue? And then it seemed he hadn’t.

Mrs. Right consoled herself with the idea that the duke could be a very deep character.

She was certain he had something in mind and she would discover it in due course.

In the meantime, she had done her bit to remedy the situation.

That bit must always be behind the scenes, as it was one of the deficiencies of England that a housekeeper could not give a loud and violent what-for to whoever she pleased without consequences.

With any luck, Lord Thorpe would set off for an important appointment only to have the springs of his carriage collapse underneath him. She hoped she was nearby a window when it happened!

For now, though, all in the household remained unaware of her accomplishment.

They had just now been gathered in the drawing room having a merry time of it.

Or at least, it seemed they were trying to cheer Serenity over the weather.

It was not just raining, but mother nature had kindly added in a whipping and icy wind.

Serenity’s walk with Lord Thorpe, which the duke had inexplicably not yet put a stop to, had been off for this day at least.

Mrs. Right had surveyed the dining room to assure herself that all was in order. Mr. Cremble was out of the picture and she was back in her rightful place as the general of the duke’s household.

Once the dining room had been deemed in order she’d made her way to the drawing room to see what plans were being made for the afternoon. She was hopeful that the weather might clear and they would go for a drive in the park—the fresh air would do her good after her exertions of the night previous.

“Mrs. Right,” Winsome had said when she gone in, “Serenity was just telling us that Lord Thorpe was very admiring of her bee costume.”

“Oh, aye?” she’d said, noncommittally. She could not understand it.

Had the duke allowed Lord Thorpe to continue his wooing?

She could not understand what the duke’s plan was.

She knew him well enough to know that he would not give over one of his precious daughters to a scoundrel, so why was he allowing this to go on?

He would not countenance a philanderer, he’d never been one himself and looked askance at that sort of thing.

As she turned that question over in her mind, Thomas had come in and it was understood that Bishop Porteus was at their doors.

Now she scrambled to pick up the books she’d dropped and acquire an expression of bored disinterest. Or mild surprise. Or gladness. Or righteousness. Or piousness. Anything but guilty, pretending to have dealings with the devil, and being a person who might meddle with a lord’s carriage.

*

“There was also found,” Quinn said, as he and Roland sat in the library, “a bag of tools in the garden by the wall. Wrenches of every description and a saw.”

“What could have been the purpose of it, though?” Roland asked. “Was it housebreakers who thought they’d need the stable staff away, but then they’d somehow lost their nerve?”

Quinn shrugged. “Something frightened them off. I was thinking it might have been your brother up to something?”

“Up to what, though?” Roland asked. “If he wanted something he could have walked through the front doors.”

“I cannot say and I imagine it will remain a mystery. I will have a guard hired for the back of the house in case they return.”

“And nothing has been found meddled with? Nothing has been stolen?”

Baxter says not even a harness is missing,” Quinn said. “He also had some choice words for whoever was at the bottom of this. He and the boys had quite the evening searching the Wapping high street in three hackneys for the terrible carriage accident.”

“I will write to our neighbors and inform the nightwatchman on the square. Perhaps we are not the only house targeted. Though, it seems farfetched that this could have been some gang of housebreakers. Whoever it was went to the trouble of seeing that the stables were emptied of people but what were they proposing to do about the staff in the house?”