Page 27 of The Ladies Road Guide to Utter Ruin (The Ill-Mannered Ladies #2)

27

My next step, I finally decided, was to have a note delivered to Evan.

I sent a footman to find Weatherly for me, then returned to my room and wrote the message: a brief précis of what had happened in the gallery, the fear around the arrival of Lord Alvanley and Mr. Brummell, and most importantly a proposal to meet in the stables once again.

Before long, I heard Weatherly’s particular knock upon my door and bade him enter.

“Good morning, my lady.”

I turned from pressing the wafer upon the parchment to seal the note. My butler closed the door and stood watching me, his calm manner always bringing comfort. He had, I noted, dressed in his blue Sunday coat, not his butler black.

“How is it, Weatherly? Is Hanford deliriously happy to see you?”

Weatherly allowed a small smile at the long-standing joke. It was, admittedly, rather singular of Julia and me to travel with our butler, especially to houses that were presided over by their own senior man, but I trusted our safety and comfort to no one else. He had accompanied us on a number of occasions to Davenport Hall, but he was yet to receive any collegial warmth from Mr. Hanford. Two butlers in one house was clearly an affront to the man—especially, I think, a Black butler—thus Weatherly’s slightly less formal attire.

“Actually, my lady, this time I have made some headway,” he said. “Mr. Hanford has asked me if I would be willing to valet for Mr. Talbot since neither Lord Davenport’s man nor Mr. Ellis-Brant’s will see to him. He knows it is a step down so sees it as a great favor. I said I must obtain your permission.”

I sat forward in my chair. “Of course you can—it works to our advantage—but why will the other valets not dress Lord Evan?”

Weatherly tilted his head, an amused squint to his eye. “There is some notion among the staff that he is here under false pretenses and is Lady Davenport’s lover.”

“Good God, we only thought of that last night and it has reached the servants’ hall already?” An alarmingly fast transmission of gossip, which brought another concern hard on its heels. “Are they talking of anything else? What do they say about Mrs. Carter and Miss Dashwood?”

“Nothing of import, my lady,” Weatherly said. “Two of the housemaids are dressing them and they are keen for the experience so are not talking out of turn. All that has been said is that the widow is frail and the sister most attentive. The general sense seems to be one of sympathy. Other than that, there is some general discontent regarding Mrs. Ellis-Brant’s demands.”

“Well, sympathy is better than curiosity, I suppose.” I sat back in the chair. “We are rather crowded here, Weatherly,” I said ruefully. “Not what we expected to encounter or what we need.”

“No, my lady. Is the plan to stay?”

“As yet, undecided.” I offered the sealed packet. “Please take this to Lord Evan.”

Weatherly received the note with unusual diffidence. “I would, my lady, but Lord Evan has ridden out with Lord Davenport and Mr. Ellis-Brant. There is a boxing match in the village and Lord Davenport has insisted on their company. They are to be gone most of the day.”

“A boxing match, in this weather?”

“It is in a barn, my lady.”

I stared down at the table. Damn. Would it be too marked to send Weatherly or John Driver to the boxing match with the message? I had to reluctantly conclude that it would.

“Give it to him as soon as he returns, then.”

“I will, my lady.” He paused, the moment holding enough weight that I knew he had something else to say. Something that was not quite proper to volunteer.

“Is there anything else I need to know, Weatherly?”

“The mail has arrived, my lady. I have just delivered a letter to Lady Julia.”

“Do we know who it is from?”

“I could not say. Although Lady Julia seemed delighted to see the direction written by that particular hand.”

Ah, Mr. Kent.

I met Weatherly’s worried gaze: we both knew that was a storm yet to break.

He bowed. “Lady Julia is in the library, my lady,” he said. And on that intelligence, he departed the room.

···

I found my sister in her favorite seat in the Davenports’ impressive library. It was tucked away at the far end of the large book-lined room, a leather armchair in a small nook that she had found early in our visits and claimed as her own. She sat with her letter in her hands, staring at it in some consternation, but looked up as I approached.

“There you are,” I said.

“Here I am,” she responded, smiling a little at the childhood greeting. “I suppose Weatherly told you I had a letter from Mr. Kent?”

“Not in as many words.”

“He does like to be discreet,” she said dryly. “As it happens, I was about to look for you.” She held out the single sheet of paper.

“I can read it?”

“It is too urgent for anything other than words of warning,” she said. I did not like the sound of that. I took the letter, finding the paper sturdy and the broken wafer of good quality. Mr. Kent had wished to ensure a secure seal. I read his neat hand.

Tuesday, 27th October 1812

Cheapside

My darling Julia,

I have been following Mulholland and his men since I quit your house. I believe he is aware you have left London, and most likely knows your initial direction. I trust that Lady Augusta’s particular friend is not with you.

There is, however, another development that will concern all who traveled in your carriage. Lord Deele has arrived in London, and Mulholland called upon him today. Whether he went upon his own cognizance or was summoned by Lord Deele, I do not know. But such an odd meeting does not bode well.

I will continue to follow Mulholland and send word if he or Lord Deele leaves London.

I am, for now and ever, yours,

Michael

The writing blurred before me—I had failed to take a breath, shock locking my chest. I drew a gulp of air. Mulholland and Lord Deele? It was not a meeting I had anticipated. I glanced up at the date again. Written two days ago.

“Is it possible that Mulholland knows we are hiding Lord Deele’s sister?” I asked, trying to understand such a dangerous collusion. “He did hear Miss Grant’s name before Duffy came into the room.”

“Only once and it was a fleeting reference,” Julia said quickly. She sat back, rubbing her temple. “Although I suppose it is possible. And if he has made the connection, then he must also realize Lord Evan is brother to both Deele and Hester.”

“Or if he does not, he soon will,” I said. “But Mulholland is not a man to offer information for free. He will want something from Deele in return for the fact that we are hiding Lady Hester.”

“But what?” Julia asked.

“Mulholland wants Lord Evan, but I cannot see what Deele has that would help Mulholland find him. Besides, would Deele give up information about his own brother to a man who is so clearly a shady sort? Deele would know it would be the gallows for Lord Evan if he is taken, so I cannot see him doing that.”

“I suppose it depends on how much Deele wants to find Hester.”

“Very much,” I said. Yet the Deele I had met at Charlotte’s ball months ago had seemed adamant that his brother was innocent. “Well, as of two days ago, they have not left London. We have time to make another plan.”

“You will think of something,” Julia said.

I was touched by her faith in me. I, on the other hand, did not share that faith.

I passed back the letter. “?‘I am, for now and ever, yours’? It is a big claim. Do you feel the same way?”

She brushed a fingertip over the bold signature. “He is a good man, Gus. This is dangerous for him.”

She had not answered, but I did not push the point. Besides, her answer was in every action and every expression. Instead, I said what was truly playing upon my mind. “You do not have to persuade me of Mr. Kent’s worth, Julia. But you know Duffy will never countenance such a match. And neither will society. He is too far below us.”

She raised her head, mouth mulish. “Michael may be lowborn but he is a man of honor. What about Lord Evan? Do you imagine Duffy will embrace a disgraced nobleman—a convict—into the family just because of his birth?”

I heard the pain in her voice.

“Not at all,” I said. “Duffy will not countenance either match. But the difference is, I do not care what our brother thinks.”

“No, because I do that caring for you,” she snapped. “I am always between you two, building a bridge so that our family does not collapse.”

“I have never asked you to do that,” I said, bristling a little.

She shook her head, not in negation, but as if she was trying to dislodge her ill humor. “I know. But one’s connections are important. We must keep our family together. You, Duffy, and I—we are the only ones left.” She sighed. “Still, it is not fair. Everyone wants to tell us who we can and cannot love. Surely I am old enough to love as I wish. I am of no interest to anyone, yet my life is still under scrutiny. Still directed by others.”

I thought of Lady Hester and Miss Grant and the suffering they had endured because they loved each other. And yet they persisted.

“I suppose it is what you are willing to give up to claim that love,” I said. “Will the love be more than the loss?”

I was not only asking it of my sister. It was the question that I faced as well. Frankly, I felt little regret at the thought of leaving my brother, but could I ever leave my dearest Julia, my ailing twin, to be with Evan?

Even the question brought a clench of pain around my heart. And underneath all the hope of exoneration, I could feel the need to decide bearing down upon me.