For some reason, Roland found this exceedingly funny. “You are a wit, on top of it all! Say Duke, what do you think about joining the YBC? We worried that you might accept an invitation and then what would we talk to you about? That’s over now! Conbatten is jolly!”
Roland’s valet came back into his bedchamber carrying a bucket. “The coffee will be up in a tick, Your Grace.”
Conbatten took the bucket from Markson and promptly heaved it in Roland’s direction.
The shock of the cold water left him speechless.
*
Viola and MissMayton had slipped down the stairs just before dawn with good wishes from Juliet and Cordelia.
Though they had never been downstairs so early, they had thought a footman would be about. All they found was a housemaid dusting the drawing room with a lone candle to assist her in her work.
That, it turned out, worked to their advantage. The housemaid was near terrified to see them and when they sent her to the stables, she raced out in that direction as if her hair was on fire. There was no skepticism in her looks, as Viola thought they might face from a footman.
Sandren had been told of a distant relative of Miss Mayton’s that was suddenly taken very ill. They told him the woman’s lady’s maid had been sent to rouse them as her mistress demanded it and likely did not have much time left in the world.
The coachman was perhaps not as easy to convince as the lady’s maid, but he set off. What else could he do when Miss Mayton directed him, as she was chaperone to Viola?
Viola leaned forward in her seat. She had expected the coach to stop at any moment and Sandren to confront them with questions.
They were here now, though. They would take a gamble and send him on his way. If they could successfully get him to take the carriage home without waiting, it would give them extra time to get going to Scotland before the alarm was raised.
As there was no groom accompanying them, Sandren jumped down and helped them down to the pavement.
“Thank you Sandren,” Viola said, “there is no need to wait, we will likely be here for some time.”
Sandren narrowed his eyes.
“We will send word when we require you to return for us,” Miss Mayton said.
“I do not mind waiting, Miss Mayton,” Sandren said.
“It will be ages, I think,” Viola said. “And then, you know Papa will wish to go to his club. He shouldn’t like it if you are not there to take him.”
Sandren seemed to be considering that idea. The earl went to his club most mid-mornings to catch up on the latest news and play some cards.
“Very well. I’ll see that you are admitted into the house, at the least.”
Viola nodded, but she also realized she had not thought through that particular step in the plan. For some reason, she’d had a vague idea of Lord Baderston just appearing at the door when she arrived.
Goodness, he was likely still asleep.
“Come Viola,” Miss Mayton said. “Sandren, I warn you that we might be knocking for some time, as my cousin keeps a very slim staff in her dotage.”
They hurried toward the doors, Viola not knowing what in the world to expect when they knocked. However, they had made it this far—there was no turning back.
Viola knocked sharply on the door, hoping to be let in by a housemaid as pliable as their own who would agree to fetch Lord Baderston without questioning why two ladies had turned up so early in the morning.
She glanced back at Sandren, who stood staring with his arms folded.
“Try again, dear,” Miss Mayton said.
Viola used the knocker with force, rapping three times.
The door flew open as a gentleman cried, “Back already?”
“What?” Viola asked.
