Page 56 of The Twelve Days of Christmas

In previous years, with the ball being a whisper away from starting, Viscount Pépin would have been beside himself with excitement.

Like his daughter Maria, the Twelfth Night Ball was his favourite social event of the year, but it was troubling to him that – though some hours had passed – he still felt that deep-seated melancholy from earlier.

It was a damn nuisance, and as he regarded his valet in the mirror he was unpleasantly reminded that his daughters had not been the Duke of Morley’s only victims.

‘Hornby,’ said Fernand, having cleared his throat and made Mr Palamedes jump, ‘might I enquire as to how the housemaid Miss Hart does?’

Mr Hornby hesitated, then resumed his brushing.

‘She has been kept busy by Mrs Wilson, my lord, but I understand she is in rather downhearted spirits.’

‘Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear,’ Fernand murmured, his guilt growing ever stronger.

One might be surprised to find that a man of his elevated status should care about the well-being of one of his maids, but the truth of it was, he did.

In truth, he genuinely liked his servants, and wished to know they were happy.

The fact that Miss Hart was not bothered him greatly, and anxiously the viscount tweaked his cravat.

‘Do please advise Miss Hart that Sir Robert is no longer in residence at Wakely, if she does not know it already, and that I hope she will still come to the ball. She is very welcome, and I can only hope she will be able to put this whole sorry business behind her.’

His valet inclined his head. ‘The news had reached us belowstairs, my lord, but I shall let Miss Hart know the invitation is still open to her, rest assured.’

‘Thank you, Hornby,’ he said, as the valet returned the lint brush to its case. ‘I assume you will be attending?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Very good! And the others, too, I trust? I should, ah, like to congratulate Marmery for his excellent riddles, though we were all mightily disappointed the Busgrove boy got to the answers before the rest of us.’ Mr Hornby’s lip twitched – Fernand saw it do so in the gilt mirror.

‘My daughter explained what happened. Most put out she is, and I too, I must confess. The spirit of the game was quite ruined.’

‘My lord,’ said Mr Hornby quietly after a moment.

‘I wish to apologise on Mr Marmery’s behalf and assure you that none of us would take advantage of you, or any one of the family.

We are all very aware how well we’re treated here at Wakely.

I was gratified to receive my Christmas box this year.

I have never owned such a fine set of oil paints.

And a gold colour, too! The goose eggs came out beautifully when I used it on them. ’

Fernand was mollified at this and acknowledged the valet’s words with a nod. With a small bow in turn Mr Hornby set about retrieving his master’s dancing shoes from the wardrobe.

‘How much,’ Fernand asked, pushing his stockinged feet into the soft black pumps, ‘did Busgrove pay Marmery, do you know?’

‘A pound, my lord,’ came the guarded reply.

‘Hmm. A pretty sum.’

His valet ducked his head. ‘I understand Mr Marmery is saving so that he and Miss Allen can marry. Since Miss Brown has become engaged to Mr Hodge, Mr Marmery has been rather keen to speed things along. However, I’m sure, my lord, if you were to ask for the money to be returned it would be willingly given.

I know Mr Marmery would be horrified to have caused offence. ’

But Fernand waved Mr Hornby off. ‘No, no. The deed is done, and no real harm has come of it, in the end. I suppose it probably did Maria good to lose for once. She has been crowned queen one too many times over the years.’

Neither man spoke for a moment, and Mr Palamedes took the opportunity to curl up in the brush case, which had not yet been shut.

‘So, our footman wishes to marry Miss Allen, does he? And Miss Brown is betrothed to young Mr Hodge?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ answered his valet, and the viscount found it in himself to smile wistfully.

‘Merrywake does not seem short of lovers, does it?’ Fernand turned and looked at the younger man appraisingly. ‘Do you have a sweetheart, Hornby? Some pretty miss?’

The valet shifted upon the Indian rug.

‘No, sir, I do not.’

‘Well!’ exclaimed Fernand, for he was much surprised. Mr Hornby was a handsome fellow, make no mistake. ‘A fine man like you will find a girl at some point, I expect. But who shall you dance with tonight?’

‘Oh,’ said Mr Hornby, a spot of colour appearing on his cheeks. ‘I expect I shall dance with someone, my lord.’

‘My dear?’

Fernand turned at the voice of his wife, who was at that moment poking her head from behind the dressing room door, and he instantly forgot everything else.

Ambrosia Pépin – a beautiful woman when young, grown lovelier still upon passing into her middle years – was dressed in a shimmering gown of white silk embellished with silver embroidery, and looked to Fernand a picture, worthy of the Dutch masters themselves, which he told her with pride.

The viscountess trilled a laugh. ‘Nonsense! It is only the dress. The dressmaker did a splendid job. Mr Hornby,’ said she then, ‘would you excuse us? You will need to get ready yourself, after all.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

The valet bowed deeply, and left Viscount and Viscountess Pépin quite alone, except for Mr Palamedes who snored softly in the brush box, ginger tail curled about his body, touching his fine pink nose.

‘I spoke with Charlotte earlier,’ Ambrosia said once the bedroom door had shut. ‘She says you are still ruminating.’

Fernand turned away from her, tweaking the cuffs of his tail coat in the mirror. ‘Can you blame me? Do you blame me? If I had only listened—’

His wife raised her hand to indicate he should cease speaking.

‘Was I a little vexed that you dismissed my concerns so readily?’ She inclined her head, and the white crystals adorning her hair bobbed on their silver wires.

‘Yes, I was. Do I hope that from this whole sorry affair you might learn something? Of course. And judging from the guilt you are so clearly suffering under, I can see that you already have.’ Ambrosia smiled at his reflection, then proceeded to wrap her arms about his waist and laid her cheek upon his shoulder.

‘But all is well. Our girls have not been permanently injured, Miss Hart shall keep her place. The duke has gone, and the Earl of Starling has saved us from any scandal that might have come from it. Most of our guests can be counted upon not to whisper a word, although …’

She trailed off, and Fernand knew instinctively of whom his wife was thinking.

‘The Busgroves?’

Ambrosia tsked . ‘They are not bad sorts. ’Tis the son, Nigel, who worries me.

Such a prattling buffoon he is, and when in his cups far worse.

I am sure he had already imbibed from the wassail bowl before our dancing lesson yesterday.

If he had not, I’m certain he would never have told Miss Falshaw about his cheating at the riddles. ’

But Fernand was nodding. ‘I believe I have already come upon the solution.’

Viscountess Pépin turned so that husband and wife stood face to face.

‘Oh? And what is that?’

‘Well, you know I have been considering an investment in pineapples and rely upon the Busgroves to manage my money wisely. This afternoon I intimated that if Mr Busgrove and his family did not hold their tongues about the whole sorry matter, I might be forced to take our finances elsewhere.’

Ambrosia laughed, and such a lovely sound it was that Fernand took great pleasure in it.

‘Oh, what a canny ploy! Mr Busgrove would be horrified to think you might leave him on account of gossipmongering and will be sure to instruct his son to keep his silence.’

They both chuckled together a moment, but then Fernand’s smile faded, and Ambrosia wrapt her arms about his neck.

‘ Je suis désolé, très chère ,’ the viscount said to her. ‘I promise never to be so blind again.’

‘All is well,’ the viscountess said once more, and echoing too the earlier words of their daughter.

‘Think no more on it. Tomorrow is Twelfth Day, and marks for us all the beginning of a brand-new year. Mistakes shall be made, as mistakes inevitably are, but they will be new ones, Fernand, and we have no room to accommodate the old. So let us greet our guests – I hear the first carriages arrive, don’t you? ’

Fernand could hear the rumble of wheels upon the driveway below, the snort of horses, the merry chatter as lords and ladies entered the doors of Wakely Hall, and for the first time that day felt his excitement grow.

‘I think,’ said he, ‘that is a perfectly splendid idea,’ and to confirm the fact he planted a very tender kiss upon his wife’s smiling mouth.

For some, allowing one’s servants to intermingle with members of the higher social classes might be frowned upon, but for the Pépin family it was a tradition they had upheld from the very first year they settled in Merrywake, and neither one of them cared a whit if others should object to it.

When asked why they allowed the servants’ ball to become part of their Twelfth Night festivities, the viscount and viscountess explained that it was a mediaeval tradition, and everyone should be thankful they had foregone the convention of allowing the servants to become the masters.

Their guests would certainly find much to complain of then!

Besides, the Twelfth Night Ball was the perfect opportunity for the Pépins to let their servants know how grateful they were for all that they did, and should not everybody do the same?