Page 32 of A Foolish Endeavor

Gilbert shook his head. “Without both shoulders in working order, I do not think I should attempt it.”

“Well, we shall have to walk out then. It is not far,” Kirkpatrick said. He grabbed the reins of his horse and Gilbert’s, and the two slowly made their way out of Green Park. Kirkpatrick whistled a tune as they walked, ignoring Gilbert, who slowly followed.

As they exited the park, Gilbert felt his anger rising. But the pain in his shoulder, and, now that he was walking, in one hip as well, overrode his urge to further discuss Kirkpatrick’s act. He only wished to get back to Carter’s as soon as possible.

When Dorothea received word from Carter that Gilbert had been injured, she immediately canceled her plans for the day and went to see her brother. The surgeon was just finishing up as she was admitted to Gilbert’s room. She began peppering him with questions about Gilbert’s condition.

“Your brother dislocated his collarbone, Lady Gillingham,” the surgeon said. “I have reset it and it will mend quickly, I am certain. He has multiple bruises on his hip and leg, as well, from his tumble, but he will be fine. Do not worry excessively.”

“Pray do not instruct me as to the governance of my emotions when it comes to my own family, sir,” Dorothea replied tartly. “I shall have my own physician examine him as soon as I may. Thank you for your attentions.”

The man bowed his head and departed, and Dorothea moved to the sickbed. Gilbert lay with his eyes closed, but she could see from his firmly pressed lips that he was not asleep.

“Is it very bad, Gilbert?” she asked. “Did the surgeon administer something for the pain?”

“Yes, paregoric, although its effects have not yet taken hold. Dorothea, I have not felt such pain since that time I fell out of the oak tree at home,” he replied, opening his eyes. “I cannot believe this has happened to me. What a fool I was to agree to race Kirkpatrick. It was all going fine. When he headed towards the hedge to jump it, I did, as well. At the last minute, he turned his horse away, but it was too late for me. The next thing I know I was flying through the air.”

“Insufferable! Do you think he did this deliberately?” Dorothea asked.

“He claims not to have done so.”

A snort was heard from Carter, seated across the room. “Despite his words, I have no doubt Kirkpatrick did this with malice and forethought, Lady Gillingham. He wants to ensure that Gilbert is not able to continue his suit of Miss Wells. I saw how angry he was when she chose your brother for the first dance at the Landrys’ party.”

“Kirkpatrick has no interest in Miss Wells,” Gilbert protested. “He has told me so repeatedly.”

“I would not be so certain, Gilbert. I also noticed his peeved countenance when Miss Wells chose you to dance first,” said Dorothea.

“No interest in the prettiest and wealthiest young lady of the Season?” Carter asked. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“Of course,” Dorothea mused, “this act of his—if intentional—could be because of that rude remark I made about his father’s mistress. I am indeed very sorry if I have been the cause of it. Well. He is no friend, that much is certain.”

Gilbert shrugged, regretting it at once when pain shot through his shoulder, and gritting his teeth as he tried to smother a cry of pain. “My Season is ruined. I cannot dance. Indeed, I cannot even attend any gatherings for the foreseeable future. Just my luck.”

“You must come to stay at the Gillingham house, Gilbert,” Dorothea said, decisively. “I wish to have Dr. Mendel see you for himself, and I have far more staff there to take care of you.”

“It is no trouble for your brother to stay here, Lady Gillingham,” Carter said.

“You are so kind to offer, Mr. Milbourn, but you will wish to continue your enjoyment of the Season, and my poor brother will be left quite alone here for a great deal of the time. It will be for the best that he come to our home, at least for now. You are certainly welcome to come visit him as often as you wish. Indeed, I am certain Gilbert will greatly rely on the pleasure of your companionship during his recovery.”

“I certainly shall, Carter,” Gilbert said. “And, pray, plead my case to Miss Wells when you see her at the upcoming ball and apologize for my inability to dance with her. Perhaps she and her aunt will even come visit me, at least, once I am out of my sickroom and able to receive guests downstairs.”

The decision finalized, Dorothea departed to arrange for her brother’s transfer to her home.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Evan Kendall stared into the drawer where he kept his cash, his forehead furrowed in concentration. He was certain there should be more bank notes there than he saw at present. He cast his mind back to the last time he had unlocked the drawer to remove funds. To his best recollection, it was when he gave Mrs. Wilson a one pound note on Monday to pay the butcher bill. She had brought back the change, which he now saw in the special box he designated for coins, but he believed there still should have been four one pound notes, as well as a five and a ten pound note remaining in the drawer. Yet, he was now staring at the four ones, the ten note, but no fiver. What could be amiss? Was he losing his memory? Had someone snuck in and taken the money? He kept the key under the blotter on his desk, never seeing the need to hide it more securely.

He took a seat at his desk, still pondering the mystery, when Mrs. Wilson entered, carrying a tray which held a small pot of tea and a freshly baked biscuit.

“I thought you might be needing a bit of something to eat about now, sir. Master Miles said he did not care for anything, and I sent something up to Mrs. Kendall in the nursery, so I did not see the need to set up tea in the drawing room.” She set the tray on the small table next to the window of his study as she always did when he took his tea in private. She gave a nod and headed out, but he called her back.

“Wilson, have you noticed anyone entering my study when I was not here in the last couple of days?”

The woman pressed her lips together and thought a moment. “Well, I did see Master Miles come out the other day when you were paying a call on Mr. and Mrs. Olivet. When he saw me, he said he had been in to borrow a book, but he weren’t carrying one that I saw.” She smiled. “Likely he could not find the one he wanted.”

“I see. Thank you.” Evan went to the table, poured himself a cup of tea and considered her words. He had called upon the Olivets on Wednesday, and he was confident he had not unlocked his money drawer since he gave the pound note to Mrs. Wilson. So, the five pound note must have been taken between Monday and today. He hated to accuse his son, but he did not have any proof to put the blame on any other servant. Nor did he suspect them. Most had been with Clayton House for years and were all loyal and trustworthy. He sipped on his tea, considering what to do.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall and hurried to his door where he saw Miles, preparing to go out. “Miles, where are you off to?” he asked.