“His Grace was on hand at Lady Rosalind’s darkest hour,” Miss Mayton said, nodding.
Balthazar turned and coughed to hide his hilarity.
Thankfully, Lord Cannerly’s butler found that fortunate moment to signal that the party was ready to go through.
It seemed Lady Hightower was to act as Lord Cannerly’s hostess. “Conbatten, do take in Lady Rosalind. Lord Bentley, do the honors with Miss Mayton, if you would be so good.”
And so, Lady Hightower paired off the couples, one by one.
Balthazar was certain she had a fine time doing it, too. He was not unaware that she’d very purposely paired him with Lady Rosalind. He could not say he was sorry over it, though.
Darden had been saddled with Miss Jenson. Lord Mendover would take in Lady Worthington, while the earl would guide Lady Mendover. Lord Marlrymple and Lady Felicia would go in together, naturally.
It was all done expertly and to everyone’s satisfaction. That was, except Lord Bentley, who was never satisfied with anything.
Just wait until you actually talk to Miss Mayton, old fellow. Then you will really have something to complain about.
*
Shrimps had paidoff Barney and he had been very glad to see the last of the ten-pound purse that had been living under his mattress. He’d worried about it night and day. What if it were stolen? How would he ever explain it? Nobody would believe a wretch like him and he’d be off to the Old Bailey.
He’d also been glad to see the last of Barney. That fellow had seemed a little surprised that the handkerchief stealing had come off without a hitch and that there actually was ten pounds to be paid.
At least, he’d thought he’d seen the last of Barney.
But tonight, Barney had been back, waiting for him in the garden.
Why did Oyster have to go out at night? He didn’t know, but he’d tried skipping it once and what he found on the floor the next morning had taken a lot of cleaning up. Cook claimed he could smell it all the way in the kitchens and if it happened again the dog would have to go.
So, there was nothing for it. They had to go out before settling in for the night.
If only Oyster did not need to make a full circle of the garden, sniffing at everything! He’d tried telling Oyster that there was no purpose to it, that it was the same shrubs as yesterday and the day before, but he would not be convinced.
Barney had come up behind him, silent as a ghost. Shrimps had almost jumped out of his clothes.
“It’s only me, old mate,” Barney had said with a laugh.
“What do you want?” Shrimps asked. “I gave you all the money.”
“I ain’t looking for money this time,” Barney said. “I’m lookin’ for information.”
“I don’t have information!” Shrimps whispered. “Nobody has less information than me! I can’t even read.”
“One of the bosses was wondering, what’s your real name?”
Shrimps shuddered. His mother had told him that nobody must know it. He knew his given name, and she said his full name was contained in the letter sewn in his coat. But nobody must know it until he delivered the letter to some people in Kent. He was to find the Seven Oaks and ask to be directed to the Conroys.
Of course, he did not know how to get to Kent and he was not certain it would have been a good idea anyway. His mother had been delirious when she was giving him all those instructions. Most of it had sounded like she was dreaming or something.
Even if he knew how to get to Kent and even if it did seem like a good idea to go there, he would never be so stupid as to give up his current situation.
“You know my name is Shrimps,” he said.
“I been told Shrimps ain’t the sort of name what would be put down in a record. There’s got to be another name. Like Johnny or Frederick or…Henry.”
Shrimps felt the blood drain from his face. He knew himself to be Henry, but why did Barney want to know it?
“I’ve only ever been called Shrimps except when I was sick, then me mum called me Jimmy dear,” he said, trying to sound as confident as possible.
