Verity turned up her nose, declining to explain what she did or did not see.
“I was able to discover that the earl has a weakness,” Felicity said. “It turns out he will go mad for me if he thinks another gentleman has gone mad for me. I have dug such a gentleman up—his name is Mr. Percy Stratton. He will pretend interest in me, thereby driving the earl to fly to my side.”
“Why?” Winsome asked. “Why should this Mr. Stratton wish to involve himself?”
“Well… he did say he enjoyed a ruse,” Felicity said. “I suppose that is why.” Though, now that she was looking at it, perhaps it did seem a rather flimsy reason.
“That seems a rather flimsy reason,” Winsome said.
“It is a perfectly well-known reason,” Verity said, “as everybody knows.”
“I did not know,” Valor said.
“In any case,” Felicity said, “the Earl of Rustmont will be at Lady Jellerbey’s candlelight picnic on the morrow and the plan will unfold.”
“Papa and our aunt had a shouting match yesterday about that picnic,” Grace said. “First, Papa said he would not go, as an indoor picnic sounded idiotic. Then our aunt said she was glad he would not go, as he was likely to cause trouble. She would be happy to take our Felicity herself. Then of course you can guess what happened…”
“Papa has now insisted he will go,” Felicity said.
Grace nodded.
Felicity was not certain when Lady Marchfield would ever figure out that if you wished to steer her father one way, you ought to suggest he go the other way.
Valor suddenly laughed. She said, “Papa told our aunt that she would be lucky if he didn’t overturn all Lady Jillerbey’s candles and burn her house down. She clutched at her heart. It really was very funny.”
They all laughed at the idea. Really, their father could be very amusing.
Mrs. Right knocked on the door and came in, followed by two maids with trays.
“Jenny told me you were all up and I imagined you were starving,” she said. “I thought to have brought up tea and toast to hold you over until your proper breakfast.”
“You did bring a cup for yourself, Mrs. Right?” Felicity asked.
“I should be heartbroken if you did not,” Serenity said.
The housekeeper nodded. “I saw into the future and perceived that you will wish to tell me about Almack’s, and I will wish to tell you about a certain butler who is set to arrive.”
“A butler!” Valor cried, as if the idea were terrifying.
Of course, it might very well be terrifying to her youngest sister. Valor had been too young to remember the last butlerwho’d been in the house. She’d only heard the stories of that gentleman’s final day, which may have been exaggerated for interest.
“Is it Mr. Herring come back?” Grace asked.
“No,” Mrs. Right said grimly, directing the maids with the trays, “I reckon that fellow is weeping in somebody else’s house these days. It is some fellow named Mr. Joseph Sykes-Wycliff.”
“He has two family names,” Valor pointed out, as if this were further reason to be frightened of him.
“Will his mind collapse like Mr. Herring’s did?” Felicity asked, all curiosity. That had been a day of real excitement in the house.
Mrs. Right poured the tea and passed cups round. “No doubt,” she said. “It is only a matter of when.”
With that genial idea, they proceeded to have a very merry pre-breakfast.
*
The last placePercy would purposely find himself was in the breakfast room with his father at eight o’clock in the morning. However, the viscount had left strict instructions with his valet that he was to turn up at the appointed hour.
He busied himself at the sideboard, hemming and hawing and taking this or that thing and then pausing to reconsider.
