“I will bring fifty pounds in consideration, naturally.”
“Fifty pounds?” Mr. Longmoore said in wonder. “Fifty?”
“Not a pence less,” Tuttle said, smiling. He did not know if even half of what the blowhard had said was true, but a sworn statement would do for Lord Dalton. He would make his way to the Guildford Arms this very moment to relay the good news to his patron.
Mr. Tuttle rose and muttered, “Lord Dalton shall beverypleased.”
Chapter Five
The following day,Lord Hampton sent a note to Dalton’s house to call off the manufactured rumors against Miss Knightsbridge. He’d waited nearly all the afternoon to hear word back and, when he did not, he made his way to the house.
He was aware that Lady Marksworth’s house was just across the street and glanced surreptitiously at it as he mounted the steps. The more he’d thought of Dalton’s plan, the more he was bound to stop it.
They had all been so casual about casting an aspersion on a lady’s reputation! He knew Dalton did not plan to paint her as scandalous. His friend hoped to dig up some other untoward habit of Miss Knightsbridge’s—just enough, taken together with riding out ahead of a groom and a penchant for shotguns, to set tongues wagging. For all he knew, it would be an unnatural understanding of kennels or that she owned an unusually large dog for a lady. It was not the sort of gossip that would ruin her, and yet it was the type that would be endlessly repeated. It was even the type that might cause a few invitations to dry up. There were those formidable ladies in London who would not tolerate a whiff of boldness from a female just out.
He’d been the architect of it, having allowed his own pique to color his judgment.Hehad repeated Miss Knightsbridge’s words. To the others, it must be some far-off idea happening to an unknown person. But he!Hehad encountered the lady twice now, and the second time had been a deal more pleasant than the first.
He thanked God the occupants of Lady Marksworth’s house could have no way to divine the reason for his visit to Dalton.
As his thoughts ran this way and that, Dalton’s butler answered the door. Bellamy was as stooped and decrepit as ever. He’d been the old duke’s butler for twenty-five years, until he could no longer keep up with such a great estate. As he’d known Dalton since he had been a boy, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to take him on for Dalton’s London house.
Dalton said he and his butler had a very convenient arrangement—Dalton gave him twice the footmen he really needed so he might do next to nothing, and Bellamy did not comment on his master’s activities, as he really could not care less about them. Bellamy wished for a comfortable bedchamber, a warm butler’s closet, and a general ease of life. He had all that, and so Dalton might bring home a cadre of actresses of an evening and Bellamy would not look askance.
“Ah, Lord Hampton,” Bellamy said, clutching the doorknob for support. “Lord Dalton is not at home. Do you wish to come in and refresh yourself?”
“That depends,” Hampton said. “When is he expected back?”
“He said the day after tomorrow,” Bellamy said, “but as he’s gone to see his father, he may very well be delayed.”
Gone to see his father? What for? He’d said nothing about going to Somerset.
“Do you know if he read my note sent yesterday before he left?”
“Oh, no, my lord,” Bellamy said. “It is still right here in the hall. If it is vital, I can send it on, but it might very well cross paths.”
Hampton was thoughtful for a moment. He had no idea why Dalton would have gone to his father so suddenly. Especially at this moment, with the pact hanging over their heads. Though, perhaps it was lucky. Daltonhadplanned to go to Surrey with the seedy Mr. Tuttle to find something further on Miss Knightsbridge. Apparently, the project had been postponed.
“Would you see that he is given my letter first thing when he returns?” he said.
Bellamy nodded and clutched the doorknob ever harder. Hampton thought he’d better not delay the man another minute lest he fall over. He nodded, turned, and jogged down the steps to the waiting groom.
Hampton thought it was a funny thing to have a butler who could barely stand at the door. It was his own opinion that Dalton really ought to pension the old fellow off rather than go on with such nonsense.
*
Bellamy shut thedoor behind him and smiled. There were some advantages to appearing as old as Methuselah. No matter how great a personage arrived at the door, they would state their business in all haste when they noted him clutching the doorknob. His footmen thought the whole thing a jolly bit of fun, and he did too.
And then to be questioned on the doorstep as to his master’s location? He thought Lord Hampton rather naïve. Bellamy never gave away his master’s whereabouts. If his master was in Surrey just now, gathering information on the unfortunate Miss Knightsbridge, that was his master’s business.
Bellamy could not say he fully understood the ins and outs of the whole thing, but Miss Knightsbridge had something to do with that God-forsaken pact. Whatever efforts could be made to thwart the demands of those inconvenient fathers must be made. Bellamy had no wish to find himself faced with aLadyDalton. He and his lord had a most comfortable set-up, they didn’t even employ a housekeeper and had maids come in on a day basis. The house went on comfortably male—he, the cook, and the footmen had an endless amount of wine and little real work to accomplish. The grooms made certain the lord’s horses were well taken care of, and then lounged at their leisure. There was no room for a lady that might get ideas and attempt to change their way of going on. Or, heaven forbid, a housekeeper. Those awful persons had the unfortunate habit of peering into every nook and cranny and glaring at any lazing staff.
*
Cassandra and LadySybil sat cozy in the window seat at Marksworth House as Sybil described the courses at the Jennings’ dinner. Cassandra was not sorry to have missed that particular engagement, it sounded like an overly formal and stultifying affair. The only particular thing of interest was that two gentlemen of the pact had been there.
“As there were sixty attending,” Sybil said, “I thought my chances of avoiding them rather good.”
“And did you?” Cassandra asked.
