“I will put a chair against it too.”
With that, she hurried up the stairs and left the rest of the staff to frown at the butler. She did not suppose he would last a week.
*
MILES HAD FINALLYarrived to Chesterfield Street, and what a journey it had been. Never again would he ride in the same carriage with Moreau and Wainwright. A hysterical valet and a snide butler were a combination that did not mix well.
Moreau would go on one of his long tirades about the various mishaps that had befallen him in the past week. Wainwright would roll his eyes into the back of his head and mutter, “And yet, you are still alive. Why are my hopes always so cruelly dashed?”
Moreau would threaten to leap across the carriage and pummel him over the insult. Wainwright would raise his fists and say, “Ready when you are.”
This would set Moreau to sulking, as there was no minute in the history of all time that he would ever be ready to engage in fisticuffs.
When the carriage rolled to a stop at the house, Miles did not even wait for Wainwright to get ahead of him and open the doors. A footman had been on the lookout for them and had the doors open and that was good enough.
Though, Miles could not quite understand the look on the young fellow’s face. He looked terrified.
Miles paused and said, “James, what is wrong with you?”
James was usually all cool arrogance on account of being the senior of the footmen, though he was still very young for it.
“My lord,” he whispered, “Baron Montclave has installed himself in the house! He turned up and said he would lead the search for you, but I told him you were already found. He said he’d need that confirmed because it might not be true.”
“The presuming rogue,” Miles said. “And I don’t suppose he’s done much looking, has he? Did he think I was lost on the Thames?”
James shook his head. “He’s just done a lot of drinking, my lord. We did not know how to stop him!”
“I’ll take care of it. Where is he?”
James nodded toward the drawing room.
Miles should have known. He could already smell the cigar smoke coming from that location. He strode through the drawing room doors.
Montclave had certainly heard the carriage arriving, as he was on his feet and facing the doors. “Cousin!” he said in that false ingratiating way he had. “Thank the heavens you have survived your ordeal.”
“Yes, I was very fortunate.”
“Indeed, indeed. Naturally, I rushed to the scene as soon as I heard you were missing. The poor earl is laid up with the gout just now and so it fell on my shoulders to lead.”
“Thescenewas never anywhere near London, and you planned to lead what?” Miles asked, fascinated to know what Montclave’s answer would be.
“Well, someone had to be on hand,” Montclave said. “Should the worst have happened.”
Miles smiled. “I see. Fortunately, the worst did not happen and you may be on your way. Very good news all round, I’d say.”
“Is that the best course of action, though?” Montclave said. “I suspect you remain weak from your misadventure and may even experience a setback. Perhaps it would be best to keep me on hand to watch over things as you proceed with your recovery.”
The rogue was as transparent as glass. “Nonsense,” Miles said, “I am fit as a fiddle. Now, I will not hold you up.” He turned to the drawing room doors and said, “Wainwright, pack the baron’s things for him. Tell the coachman to hold off putting away the horses—he will take the baron wherever in Town he wishes to go.”
As he turned back toward Montclave, he saw the pleasant façade he wore slip for a moment and reveal a look of real hatred. Just as fast as it had made its appearance, it disappeared again.
“If you intend to make your way back to Norfolk, you will be in time to catch a coach from The Swan,” Miles said. “Do give the dowager my regards.”
“Perhaps I will stay in London for now,” Montclave said. “I have a friend on Bolton Street.”
“Ah, a friend, I hadn’t thought. Well! Very considerate of you to take time out of your no doubt crammed calendar to attend me,” Miles said. He left his cousin in the drawing room, confident his staff would see the gentleman out the doors. After he was gone, Miles would order all the windows opened to get rid of that unpleasant cigar smoke.
Chapter Six
