“I’ll take that,” she said, grabbing the sack from his hands. It was indeed heavier than she’d expected, but she would not be put off.
“Thank you, madam,” the butlerish fellow said.
“See if you’ll thank me when I’m done with you,” Mrs. Right said genially.
The butler staggered at this response.
“Charlie, follow me,” Mrs. Right said, charging out of doors. She stormed toward the waiting carriage. “Open the door, Charlie.”
Charlie rather happily did as he was bid. Mrs. Right overturned the sack into the carriage, coins bouncing in every direction.
She shut the door against them and turned to the butler. “I imagine the duke will be very put out to hear about this,” she said threateningly. “What Ican’timagine is what he’ll do about it.”
The butler, who had hurried out to the pavement, went white as a sheet. “I did tell Lady Albright what he said about bringing bricks next time,” he whispered to himself.
“Begone with you,” Mrs. Right said, “and my advice is, don’t come back or it’ll be the worse for you.”
The butler hurried to the carriage. Charlie opened the door for him and the fellow climbed in as a raining of pence fell to the road. Lady Albright’s coachman appeared to be disgusted to be involved in the whole palaver and started his team. They were gone, with handfuls of coins scattered and gleaming in the moonlight.
“You might as well gather up what’s been left behind, Charlie, and divide it up downstairs.”
Charlie nodded with enthusiasm. Mrs. Right nodded back—sending unexpected money downstairs was just one of the many reasons she was, and would remain, the beloved ruler of the duke’s household.
All in all, it had been a more entertaining evening than she’d been anticipating.
*
Percy had notparticularly planned on putting down his name on other ladies’ cards, he’d hoped he might just fade into the background at the edges of the ballroom floor and watch Lady Felicity.
However, it became apparent, via Lady Llewellyn, that there were quite a few young ladies who did not have their cards filled. It was a hostess’s nightmare to see unattached young ladies sitting out a set. After all, it was embarrassing for the young lady and highly irritating to her parents.
Therefore, like any good hostess, she had commandeered both him and Wiles, along with other gentlemen, to get going in different directions, asking to be put on cards. No young lady was to be left behind.
Percy did not fault the hostess for it. Lady Llewellyn was doing her duty and so he must do his. He put a great amount of stock into the idea that manners greased the wheels of society and they required everyone to pull in the same direction.
Or at least most people pulled in the same direction. He did not suppose anybody in the wide world could direct the duke on which direction to pull.
Nevertheless, he did keep an eye on Lady Felicity when he could. Particularly when she’d danced with Rustmont. He’d been gratified to see that it did not appear that whatever excuse he’d made for himself had been joyfully received.
Lady Felicity was too clever to believe that fellow’s excuses.
Now, he’d taken her through the set and she was as graceful as ever. He’d hinted around about what might have been her conversation with Rustmont. All she would say about it was she supposed it could be true. What the gentleman had actually said, though, remained a mystery.
Lady Llewellyn’s dining room was far superior to Almack’s, that lady having no notion of making her guests suffer. There was white soup, cold meats, pickled vegetables, warm rolls with herbed, compounded butter, scalloped potatoes, chops, potted meats, several types of broiled fish, beef tartlets, roasted fowls, and most importantly, plenty of good wines. That was where Almack’s fell down the hardest in Percy’s opinion. Though he’d been shocked that the duke had brought a flask of brandy into that institution, he also thought that serving lemonade at anything outside of a picnic was an abomination.
They had their wine glasses filled, Percy choosing the claret and Lady Felicity choosing the Canary.
“Mr. Stratton,” Lady Felicity said, “I recently heard of an interesting situation and would hear your own thoughts on it. It seems a lady has suddenly become interested in baking cakes and has begun visiting her kitchens to do so. What do you suppose her lord makes of it?”
Percy could only imagine that Lady Felicity herself had developed a sudden interest in baking. After all, in what household could a lady march down to the kitchens and be up to her elbows in flour, but for the Duke of Pelham’s?
“I do not suppose there is any harm in it,” he said. “Except—”
“Except?”
“Except, the cook’s feelings must be taken into consideration. Is he insulted because it is a hint that his own cakes are not up to snuff? Is he put out that his domain has been invaded without so much as a by your leave?”
“The cook, I hadn’t thought…”
