He knew very well he should not have done it, for he’d never rid himself of the thing now. But, he couldn’t very well allow an animal to starve. His stable cat in London had been well provided for, in case the rat population proved insufficient.
Now, he sat on a bench out of doors, having coffee before Tate shaved him, while the cat slept under the bench. What an evening! He’d had no idea Miss Danworth had decided she would not marry. She was out two seasons now and had been seen everywhere. Perhaps that should have been a clue, though. She was remarkably pretty, but as far as he knew, nobody had yet asked.
They would not, though, would they? She had kept away all comers with her own cool manner. He had once joked that underneath her laughter was a sheet of ice, and he was not far wrong. He’d just not known why that was. Everybody understood Lord Childress to be an unpleasant sort, but since arriving to Ramsgate he’d begun to get a clearer picture of things. He could not really fault Miss Danworth for not wishing to tie herself if her father had been her primary example of men.
For himself, Charles knew what lay in the hearts of men when they were loosed in war. He had just not supposed a lady would know it. In a drawing room, those qualities were deeply buried under a veneer of civility and that was the veneer most ladies were acquainted with. Miss Danworth had seen the veneer unmasked by her father’s unsavory mode of living, and she was repulsed. Perhaps even more so because she was a woman. Not because women were so delicate, he’d never believed that old saw, but because a woman put herself in her husband’s power when she married.
Then there was Farthmore to think of. He’d played the whole thing down when he returned to the dining room, but he wondered if he might not encounter the fellow again. What a fuss the rogue had put up as he was being wrestled into his carriage! He’d squealed as if he were being murdered and swore he’d have his satisfaction.
There was always the outside chance that Farthmore might challenge him. It would be idiotic in the extreme, he was a crack shot. But men like Farthmorecouldbe stupid when their pride was stung. He could only hope a sore head and the cold light of day would inspire him to close his mouth and move off to a greener pasture.
But if not Farthmore, how many others would he have to contend with? Watchmen or no, what he’d said to Miss Danworth was all too true. Her dowry was respectable and what she would come into from her grandmother was enormous. How many of Lord Childress’ loutish friends might think they saw an opportunity? Men of that ilk spent all their time considering whattheywould prefer, with no amount of time wondering if their quarry had any opinion about it.
For a moment, he thought it might be prudent to remove to the estate in Shropshire, run down though it was rumored to be. But what difference would he find there? Loutish soldiers would be replaced by whatever loutish farmers Childress had associated with.
To his surprise, Charles saw Bellamy coming through the garden at an unusually brisk pace. His butler bowed and said, “I’ve sent word to the agency, my lord, that we require several watchmen. I’ve thought of how it ought to be done when the candidates turn up. I can head them off at the front door and lead them round and through the terrace door that leads directly into the library. In that way, Miss Danworth and Mrs. Jellops shall not be disturbed in the drawing room.”
This was a more energetic speech from Bellamy than Charles had heard in years. Further, he’d seemed to have accomplished the task without the unnecessary foot-dragging that usually accompanied any work to be done.
“I find you in better spirits than I would have imagined, now that your wine holiday has commenced.”
Bellamy appeared surprised by the suggestion. “Iamrather sprightly this morning, but I hardly think…though perhaps…”
“What did you do with yourself last evening, now that you do not carouse with the boys until two in the morning?”
“Well, we were at a loss, at first. I don’t mind saying it. But then, Gerald had the idea of reading to us from a book to pass the time, and Tom came upon some cocoa beans in the pantry and had the idea of making some drinking chocolate. It weren’t our usual habit, but it went over pretty well, in the end.”
Charles did his best to control his urge to laugh over the idea of the three of them drinking chocolate and indulging in literature. “And what, pray, did you choose to read?”
“The Mysteries of Udolpho,” Bellamy said, staring off into the distance. “What’s to be the end of it, I cannot guess. Though, we’re all firmly behind Valancourt.” The butler suddenly straightened himself and said, “I’m going to have a word with Miss Danworth about the cocoa bean situation. If she does not give us free rein with it, I can’t say what might go on.”
“Let me guess,” Charles said, “you will be insulted down to the end of your shoes.”
“To the end of mytoes, my lord. By the by, did you know there is a cat under your own feet?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Daisy was in the drawing room when Bellamy brought in the post. There seemed to be quite a lot of it and she hoped there was not more to do with the estate. As far as she understood it, everything had been settled.
He held the silver tray out and she took the pile and sat it on a table next to her. That would have been the time for the butler to make his departure, and yet he stood there staring at her.
She dearly hoped he was not planning on making another proposition involving the wine cellar.
“Is there something else, Bellamy?” she asked.
“As it happens, Miss,” he said gravely. “The boys and me have taken a liking to drinking chocolate and I would just mention that it’s a mercy we take a liking to anything after…the wine we do not have.”
Daisy could not imagine why she was meant to know anything about it. She waited for him to go on.
“I would only point out that if there was to be some kind of ration of it when a housekeeper darkens our doors... Well, that would sit badly I’m afraid. The beans that are there won’t last a fortnight, and then I do not know what we’re to do.”
“So you are saying you wish to be given leave to drink chocolate each evening over the housekeeper’s objections?”
“I do, Miss.”
Daisy thought it was a bargain worth taking. She could not care less how many cocoa beans they went through. “Drink away, Bellamy. I cannot imagine a housekeeper will mind what she does not pay for but if she does, I will rectify it. Drink chocolate up to your eyes if you wish.”
Though Bellamy only nodded before he hurried from the room, his springing stride gave Daisy the idea that he viewed himself as having won a very great victory. She was perfectly amenable to that idea. As far as she was concerned, she had won a great victory too.
