Mrs. Right smiled. Everybody knew that Charlie had not the least interest in staying in service all his life. He saved every pence so he might one day open a tavern in their village. Mrs. Right had long ago convinced the duke to hand out rather significant Christmas bonuses for the sole reason of funding Charlie’s ambitions.
“If you were to support my efforts,” Mr. Grimsby went on, “I would ensure that you learn how things are properly done, Charlie. It would greatly enhance your chances of moving up in the world. Now, I know you are all fond of Mrs. Right, but that is only because she’s had you isolated in Yorkshire. You have not known any better examples. However, she does you a disservice! It is outrageous that a housekeeper is bossing about the footmen.”
Disservice, indeed. No footmen in England were paid as well, had as many days off, and had such light duty. No footmen had a leader who treated them as if they were her own sons.
“You were a soldier, Mr. Grimsby, is that right?” Charlie asked.
“Indeed I was, and very good training for running a household it was too,” Mr. Grimsby said.
“Now let me ask you this,” Charlie said, “let’s say you was serving a general for ever so many years. Then, all sudden-like, a new general sidles up to you and says, forget your general and serve me. What would you do?”
“Such a situation would be unheard of. A soldier does not change commanding officers willy-nilly.”
“Just so, Mr. Grimsby. Just so.”
Mrs. Right tiptoed away, well satisfied that Mr. Grimsby would get precisely nowhere with her boys.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Patience was enjoying herself so far, despite the niggling little idea in the back of her mind regarding Lord Stanford’s hesitation in putting himself down on her card. Especially since he’d penciled in for the dance before supper. She presumed that had been the only space left and she did not like to think that the gentleman had been forced to take her in and engage in extended conversation.
She had already danced with Lord Radler, one of the three that had caught her eye instantly. He was a rather voluble specimen and she discovered that he was a houseguest of Lord Stanford’s. They’d had a lively conversation about Dales’ ponies and Patience had told him of the sort of wild rides she and her sisters took on the moors.
She’d wished to subtly inquire into Lord Stanford’s hesitation in putting his name down on her card, but she did not find an opportunity to work it in.
Just now, she danced with Lord Kendrickson, the second of the three gentlemen who’d caught her eye upon arriving. Though, she could not help but to notice her aunt frowning at the edge of the ballroom floor.
“I see Lady Marchfield gives me some dark looks,” Lord Kendrickson said. “I suppose she’s warned you of my circumstances.”
“She said you were in Town on a dowry hunt,” Patience said, interested to see how he would answer the charge.
The lord laughed. “I suppose it could be called that. I certainly do require a good dowry and I have never attempted to hide my circumstances. I will say, though, that there are few men in England who do not have to take on such considerations. My case is perhaps just more dire. My father was a gambler and not very skilled at it.”
Patience found his directness rather refreshing. She was not naïve to the ways of the world. Women had dowries because estates needed infusions. It was the great English money trade between houses. Awkward, of course, but that was why everybody pretended they did not know it. A lady was not meant to consider whether a gentleman had considered her purse.
“My father says gambling is almost as stupid as putting a gun to one’s head, pulling the trigger, and hoping not to get shot,” she said.
Lord Kendrickson laughed. “My views exactly, though perhaps I have never expressed it in such colorful terms.”
“My papa is a darling, though so many do not see it at first. He shocks people, but it is just him going his own way.”
“Money and title allow for going one’s own way it seems. I hope you do not think less of me because of the situation I’ve found myself in.”
“I do not, and it does you credit that you do not hide it, Lord Kendrickson.”
“Of course, I very much wish that it was not the situation I’m in. It would be rather glorious to have no need for practicalities. But duty, you know. My mother, a dowager now, counts on me, as does everyone who works in my household.”
Patience nodded. She very much liked Lord Kendrickson. Not as anything more than a friendship, but she found herself feeling as if she would like to help him where she could.
“Lord Kendrickson, I will give you the only hint I am in possession of. I understand Lady Alice comes with twenty thousand and I suppose that would rescue your sagging fortunes.”
“Rather,” Lord Kendrickson said.
“I have been told that she is a serious personality,” Patience said. “It is always well to understand another’s temperament. Perhaps if she sees you as serious too, it will put you in her good books.”
The lord sighed. “She is unlikely to favor me, then. I cannot say I am a particularly serious person—I do like to laugh. She’ll be going for someone like Stanford.”
“Oh? Lord Stanford is particularly serious?” Patience asked.
