Just when that problem was solved, the cook had some sort of breakdown in the kitchens. A large order was delivered, but nothing he’d ordered was in it. Instead of the variety of staples he usually ordered, all he got were sacks of cabbages.
Percy could hear him shouting about it from the library.
That turned out to be only the beginning of it. Later, it was discovered that the wine delivery the viscount had so painstakingly composed had been cancelled. The final discovery was that the laundry where they sent out their clothes had been told to donate them to the poor.
By the time Percy heard a good number of his shirts had become charitable donations, he began to suspect the duke’s hand in it. There was no possibility that so many disasters could befall one house, all on the same day.
The oncoming problems one after the next did not mix well with the viscount’s self-prescribed brandy and sore finger and toe. The viscountess finally ordered the carriage and left to nobody knew where. Percy, himself, left by the servants’ stairs, pretending not to hear his father’s shouts for him to get to the bottom of this trickery.
He’d already got to the bottom of it, he was certain, and the last thing he’d do was tell his father of his suspicions.
In any case, he was in a hurry to get to Lady Jameson’s rout. He must find Lady Felicity and somehow put an end to this misunderstanding. Well, not misunderstanding, exactly. Itreally was more like a transformation, where she had heard about where it started, but not where it was now.
With any luck, Lady Felicity had read his letter and would already know all about it. He’d arranged for it to be delivered just before they would leave their house for the rout. Then, somehow, he’d have to soothe the duke and make him stop sending disasters to his house.
By the time he arrived, he found the rooms crowded. He edged his way past the crowd, looking over their heads for any sign of her. She was nowhere to be seen.
He eventually found Magnon, who had not seen her either.
“Do you suppose she was too put out to come?” Magnon asked. “Knowing you’d probably be here?”
“Perhaps,” Percy said thoughtfully. “Though I did write a letter explaining everything.”
“You wrote her a letter? Hm, I wonder if the duke would have confiscated it. Not the thing, you know, to send letters to unmarried ladies.”
“Yes, well, the youngest of them, Lady Valor, wrote me a letter first. She wished to inform me that I was a terrible person and she hoped the duke would wrap me in chains and throw me into a lake.”
Magnon guffawed. “She is not wrong,” he said.
Percy ignored that comment. “In any case, I wrote her back, certain she would show it to Lady Felicity.”
“And yet, the lady does not appear.”
“No, and the duke is wreaking vengeance on my house. My father is slipping into madness over it.”
“Over what?” Magnon asked.
“Well, let’s see, first there was a pile of chains on the doorstep, which the viscount promptly fell over and broke a finger and a toe. Then, his wine order was canceled, the cook received sacks of cabbages instead of his regular order, anda significant part of our wardrobes were donated to charity unbeknownst to us.”
Magnon snorted. “Everybody knows not to tangle with that duke. You only sent a letter, and he has answered it a thousand-fold.”
Percy paused. There was something in that. It was true—the duke kept sending disasters. He’d only sent a letter. Perhaps he ought to be sending other things. Not disasters, but nice things. Perhaps he had only to wear them all down with gifts.
“I know what I will do,” he said.
“What?”
“Never mind,” Percy said. “But the first thing I will do is get out of here. If Lady Felicity were coming, she would be here already. I have been iced out and I need to start some fires to melt their wall against me. I have much to plan.”
*
Felicity had shuther door, lit a candle, and sat in the overstuffed chair by the window. Mr. Stratton had written Valor and certainly it was meant for her eyes.
She smoothed out the paper.
Esteemed Lady Valor—
I received the recent communication from yourself and Mrs. Wendover accusing me of being mean, as well as a terrible person, and the wish that the duke would tie me up in chains and throw me in a lake.
