“What big thing?” Magnon asked.
“Jewelry, obviously,” Wiles said.
“What sort of jewelry?” Magnon asked.
“It’s not jewelry, though maybe I should have thought of that,” Percy said.
“What is it then?” Wiles asked.
“A horse.”
His two friends were silent for some time over that idea. Then Wiles laughed and said, “Oh I see, a porcelain horse or some such. Because she likes horses.”
“Everybody likes horses,” Magnon said. “Horses are man’s best friend.”
“I thought that was dogs,” Wiles said.
“Dogs? That’s ridiculous. Can you ride a dog to a neighbor’s house in the countryside? Could you even ride a dog to a house in Town, though the houses are so close together?” Magnon asked.
“No, but the phrase…”
It was incredible how quickly his friends could wander off a subject.
“It’s a real horse,” Percy said. “I found a lovely filly at Tattersall’s. My father will go mad when he gets the bill, but he’s nearly there at the moment, so I suppose it is little matter.”
“You bought her a real horse?” Magnon said incredulously. “That is absurd. Is there a reason for it? What is the significance of such a gift? What does it mean?”
Percy shrugged. “I ran out of ideas and I was passing by Tattersall’s…”
“So you will just go to the duke’s house? With an extra horse?” Wiles asked.
Percy nodded and drained his coffee. “I’d best get going then. I do not know what I might face in my own house or how long it might take to manage it before I can get away. The duke has been creating havoc.”
“The duke? What’s he done now?”
Percy rose. “Well, after the delivery of a pile of chains, sacks of cabbages arrived. Then our wine dealer canceled our order and will not reply to inquiries. Oh and half my shirts have been donated to charity. That sort of thing.”
“Are you certain you wish to connect yourself to such a family?” Magnon asked.
“Very certain.”
When Percy arrived home, he was relieved that the duke had seemed to run out of ideas on how to harass him. The grocer had been ordered to pick up the cabbages and bring the food that was ordered, so at least his parents would get dinner. They would not have new wine to choose from when they dined, nor would Percy ever recover his shirts, but at least no more surprises had rained down upon the house.
His father was snoring in a chair in the library, having soothed his broken finger and toe into oblivion with brandy. The viscountess was nowhere to be seen, likely keeping herself away in her sitting room.
Percy was dressed and out of the house in good time. Even more fortunate, it had not come to his father’s notice that there had been an extra horse in the stables all afternoon.
He mounted his own horse, while a groom rode the filly through the streets to Grosvenor Square. This was the moment—everything hung on this. Would she accept the horse, and him, or would he be sent packing?
The house was lit up, the lights showing through the curtains of the drawing room windows. They were at home. He dismounted his horse and handed his groom the reins. Percy jogged up the steps and gave the knocker a good rap.
The young footman he’d seen the night he’d been to dinner opened the door and then stood slack jawed, staring at him.
“I must see Lady Felicity immediately,” he said. “It is a matter of great urgency.”
“She ain’t here, though,” the young man said. “I mean, isn’t. She isn’t here.”
Calling out from the drawing room, he heard the duke’s voice. “Is that Stratton out there? Send him in, this should be amusing.”
