*
Perry, priding himselfthat his eyes were sharp as a hawk, his hearing as good as a fox, and his guiding instincts rivaling a cloud of barn bats, was often listening to and observing his staff while they were quite unaware of it. Having started his career as a junior footman, he well knew the gossip and hijinks that might remain hidden from an incurious butler.
For some days, there had been a private joke passing between the footmen. Some story that amused them. As he had viewed Thomas and one of the stable’s grooms with their heads together in the back garden at the beginning of it all, he suspected the story had originated in that hay-strewn locale. He also surmised the tale would be some low account of a loose woman, gambling, boxing, excessive drink, or all of those together—those subjects always intriguing youths who were full of their oats.
Now, as the servants had their tea, he was determined to bring the merriment to a close. He would inquire into it, their faces would turn red, and they would deny discussing anything. The fear of God, or he should say, the fear of thebutler, would be put into them. The fear would not last forever, but it would last long enough to be done with this current nonsense.
“Boys,” he said in a low tone that stopped all other conversation at the table, “I insist you regale all of us with whatever amuses you these days.”
Perry leaned back, satisfied that he was shortly to see the red faces he had so anticipated.
Oddly, he did not.
“Oh, Mr. Perry,” Thomas said, “we was just laughin’ over the story Jimmy told us ‘bout Miss Wilcox on Minerva.” Thomas hesitated, then said, “Kindlylaughing in good fun, a course.”
“That’s right,” William said, “we don’t mean no disrespect to the lady. Only, it was so very funny a picture Jimmy did paint.”
Perry had not heard anything of Miss Wilcox on Minerva and could not imagine what could be funny about it. However, he abhorred finding himself in a situation where he was very much in the dark.
He cleared his throat. “I am, naturally, aware of the matter. Though, I would ask you to repeat it. I do not favor how stories are embellished as they travel from person to person and would confirm for myself that the unfortunate habit has not occurred under my watch.”
Thomas appeared rather enthusiastic about being given leave to tell his tale, and he did tell it, though Perry grew more incredulous with every moment.
“So you see,” Thomas said, “she don’t know that Jimmy’s gonna give her a good lift up and she adds in her own lift up and goes sailing right over poor Minerva. ‘Parently, her own groom at home is as weak as a baby so she never did see it coming.”
There were titters and giggles up and down the table, though all who did so also looked to Perry to see if he would confirm the veracity of the story.
“Sailingover Minerva sounds excessive to my ears,” he said, having no idea what else to say.
“Flyin’ then,” William said, appearing perfectly agreeable to amend the description.
“Must have been a sight, however she got from one side to the other,” Thomas said.
Jenny gave three sharp raps on the table with the salt cellar. “Stop your amusement, you beggars,” she said. “Poor Miss Wilcox ain’t never been on a sidesaddle before as she’s used to ridin’ astride. Nobody gets things perfect on their first go.”
A lady riding astride? This idea seemed even more outlandish to Perry.
“That’s right,” Jenny said. “She’s used to ridin’ astride like what Carstares’ sister does in Cornwall.That’swhy she encountered the difficulty and the hands in the stable ought to keep their ideas to themselves.”
All eyes once more turned to Perry. “Our Jenny,” he said, in his best butler tone, “has managed to home in on a most salient point. The groomsshouldkeep their ideas to themselves. I am not entirely sure they should even have ideas. Further, it is not for us to stand by and act as magistrate, judging what is before us, and you’d best all remember it. I will hear no more talk about Lady Mendleton’s protégé, or I will take steps.”
Perry then very determinedly turned his attention to the buttered bread on his plate, knowing full well that once he’d mentioned taking steps, that would be the end of it. Though he had never fully defined for himself whattaking stepswould entail, exactly, none of these rascals had ever dared find out.
Though it would appear as if the bread and tea in front of him was all-engrossing, he was rather stunned by what he had heard. Miss Wilcox was quickly verging on the bizarre.
First, she attacked the pianoforte as if she was an assassin attempting to murder it, now he was to understand that she’d never been on a sidesaddle? Was she some sort of daughter of Charlemagne, ridingastridethrough her neighborhood? And, had he not just seen for himself that of all the worthy books she might have chosen from the family’s library, she had somehow taken out a low gothic tale? Did her parents, whoever they were, sanction these activities?
He had of course known that bringing a girl in from nowhere was a terrible idea. But was it more than ill-judged? Were the family somehow at risk of censure over this girl? Where had she come from? What life had she lived before arriving?
Certainly not a life he would call usual.
A sudden and very alarming thought occurred to him. What if the girl was some sort of imposter? What if that were why she did not seem to possess any of the typical talents a young lady of rank was imbued with? What if she had weaseled her way into Lady Mendleton’s good graces so that she might…what might she do?
He set his teacup down with a clatter. She might seduce the eldest son. She might have her sights set on Lord Langley. Good God, did the lord know what risks he ran? A climbing sort of girl might dare anything to catch a man who would make her a countess someday. It would be a disaster!
Perry suddenly clutched at his chest, the full enormity of this idea coming down upon him.
“Mr. Perry,” Jenny said loudly, “are you quite all right? I don’t like to see a gentleman of your years grabbing at his heart like that.”
