“There we are, Mr. Tattleton,” Mrs. Huffson said, coming in, “everybody is settled above stairs and the maids and footmen had gone to their beds.”
He nodded and poured them both a brandy.
“I suppose we must be cheerful over not having had to prepare a full-on dinner on the night of our arrival. Lord Darden is not expected back to Town until the morrow and so we have had a quiet and easy night of it. Tomorrow will be time for bustle.”
“Easy, you say?” He pointed at the goat, who was just now chewing on the corner of the tablecloth. “Where do you think this is going, Mrs. Huffson? Do you believe this creature will ever really move to the back garden?”
Mrs. Huffson’s brow wrinkled and Tattleton well knew what troubled her. The lady did not like to predict disaster, but she could not help facing the facts! They had a goat in the servants’ hall and it was not likely to go anywhere. What it would do, as he knew from past experience with other creatures, was grow, get into things, and cause no end of trouble.
“Perhaps to cheer yourself, Mr. Tattleton,” Mrs. Huffson said, “you might recall that Lady Cordelia is far less likely to get herself into scrapes than the others were. She claims that all she looks for is an athletic sort of fellow. Seems straightforward enough.”
Straightforward. Mrs. Huffson was an eternal optimist. The Benningtons had never done a straightforward thing in their lives. Straightforward people did not set off for Town and then pick up a goat along the way!
“I reckon there will be no end of fellows fitting the description,” Mrs. Huffson said. “All she need do is pick out the one she prefers, easy as you like.”
Tattleton shook his head. “I am very sorry to say it, Mrs. Huffson, but I am beginning to think you are a touch naïve.”
*
Cordelia had leaptout of bed early that morning. It was her first proper day in Town as a lady who was out in society and it felt marvelous.
She’d run down to the kitchens to see how Lord Darling was getting on. Charlie, Cook’s righthand in the kitchens, had taken a shine to the little lord. Of course, he would. It had been Charlie that had brought them their four kittens who had since grown into marvelous specimens. It had been Charlie that had helped Bess birth her pups when it was very suddenly realized that she was pregnant.
After seeing Lord Darling had been given his breakfast and was making determined little hops round the servants’ hall, she gave him all the pets he seemed to require and went above stairs to the breakfast room.
Miss Mayton had come down early too, quickly followed by Juliet. They spent a marvelous quarter hour going through the invitations that had already arrived.
Miss Mayton suddenly exclaimed. “Oh, I knew it should be so! I just knew it.”
“What is it, Aunt?” Cordelia said, leaning forward.
“Lady Rawley. You will remember that I have stepped into the breach at her theatrical evenings several times.”
“You think of your triumph last season as Benedick inMuch Ado about Nothing,” Juliet said, buttering a piece of toast.
“Just so,” Miss Mayton said. “Well, listen to what she writes me now.”
My dear Miss Mayton—
Words cannot express the thanks I owe you for your past assistance at my little theatricals. I feel as if we are one thespian speaking to another. Who could forget your inspired turn as Benedick? Who does not still dream of your dazzling portrayal of Cymbeline—the expressions of surprise so elegantly increasing to shock and then a dramatic fall to the ground!
I pray you feel the honor of what I am now to convey to you. I would be delighted if you would consent to join my troupe of actors as a permanent member. You would attend all our rehearsals, play a part on the night, and come with us to Lord Harveston’s literary salons.
We have recently joined the Society for Serious Literary Examination and we look forward to gathering opinions from those learned people. (Just a note on that, though—I have assured Lord Harveston that we will work to keep our superior creativity and imagination under wraps so that we do not intimidate any of his members with it.)
Now, I do realize you have your own duties to attend to, being chaperone to the Bennington girls. I have been told this season is to be Lady Cordelia’s. Do you suppose she would not mind accompanying you to our little activities?
If you are amenable to this invitation, please do write back in all haste. The literary salon is on Tuesday and I could convey you there in my carriage.
Margaret Rawley.
“That is marvelous!” Cordelia cried.
“Just wait until she finds out you are an actress too, Cordy,” Juliet said.
“Yes, indeed,” Miss Mayton said. “I will write her back and make that clear. Goodness, we are to join an acting troupe.”
“And my glorious Corinthian gentleman will likely come to Lady Rawley’s theatrical to see me,” Cordelia said. “Then, he will know what to expect when we are at home and he requires entertainments after an arduous day of sporting.”
