The man appeared taken by surprise to see her there, as she supposed he might. But what was he talking about?
“Oh? Nothing, nothing at all,” the man said. “So sorry, I am Markson, the earl’s valet. I was expecting a coat delivered from the earl’s tailor and I do get rather high-strung about those things. How can I help you?”
He was expecting a coat? Who would expect a coat delivered before the sun was even up in the sky?
No matter. She had little time to solve a valet’s problems. She said, “I must speak to Lord Baderston at once.”
“At once?”
“It is very urgent,” Miss Mayton said. “Do let us in so our coachman does not fall victim to the apoplexy. He is very high-strung too.”
Markson stepped aside and they hurried into the house.
Viola turned. “Now, do be so kind as to bring Lord Baderston downstairs. We really are in a terrible hurry.”
“Well…I…well, you see, I don’t like to wake him. He wouldn’t like it. Maybe you could come back in a few hours?”
Viola took a deep breath. She must overcome this fellow somehow. “We really cannot come back in a few hours. I must speak to him this instant and I am prepared to go above stairs and find him myself if you will not help me.”
The valet looked very stricken by the idea, as was Viola herself. She did not think she could really climb the stairs and begin opening doors.
“Lady Viola!” a voice from the top of the stairs bellowed.
Viola looked up to see the dowager countess in a dressing gown, hands on hips.
“Goodness,” Miss Mayton said quietly, “she is precisely who we did not wish to be up and about at such an early hour.”
The dowager stormed down the stairs. “What on earth do you do here at this time of day? Or any time of day, for that matter. Explain yourself this instant!”
Had it been any other moment, Viola would have quaked in the face of the enraged matron. This was not any other moment, though.
She threw her chin up and said, “I demand to speak to Lord Baderston at once.”
“You demand it, do you?” the dowager asked. “Perhaps I should inquire of Miss Mayton what a young lady does at a gentleman’s house before dawn.”
Miss Mayton appeared to be closely examining a portrait on the wall and pretended she’d not heard her name spoken.
“I can speak for myself and my business here is no concern of yours,” Viola said stubbornly.
Why would she not go away? The dowager must go away!
“It is no business of mine? We will see about that. Markson,” the dowager said, “bring Baderston down here at once. I will have this whole shameful situation explained to me before these people are escorted out of this house for the first and last time.”
“Well,” Markson said slowly, “you know how my lord hates to wake early, Countess.”
“I do not care about my son’s sleeping habits, do as you are directed,” the dowager said in a steely tone.
This seemed to somehow break the valet’s spirit. He covered his face with his hands and cried, “I can’t! He’s not here!”
“Not here?” Viola said. “Where is he? I must know where he is at once.”
“Excuse me,” the dowager said, “it isIwho must know where Baderston is. At once.”
“I can’t say,” the valet answered.
Viola felt the blood drain from her face. “It is a duel, is it not? Lord Baderston has gone to a duel.”
As Markson did not deny it, Viola knew the truth. She was too late. Lord Baderston had gone to an engagement on a green somewhere.
