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A shadow crossed her face. “The day after tomorrow, Mr Patmore. I have my reasons, but you will get your answer then.”
It wasn’t what he was expecting, but he had to accept it. He turned away, for one of the grooms had just returned, and Miss Montrose had hurried across to request him to fit Devil with a sidesaddle, almost as if she couldn’t wait to be out of Rufus’s company.
When she suddenly rushed back to his side, his heart swelled with hope, but all she had for him was: “One small but important request, Mr Patmore. Please don't tell anyone that you have asked me. Not Ladies Fenton or Quamby and not Mr Bramley. Can you promise me that?” She gripped his lapel, and her expression was so intense Rufus didn’t know what to think.
He nodded, unconsciously touching his lip which still felt the exciting effects of their kiss. “If you wish, Miss Montrose. But you will give me your answer in a day?”
“The day after tomorrow, for you will be much occupied with the race tomorrow, I believe.”
“As a spectator, merely, though I had hoped to travel north, back home, in the afternoon.” He said it diffidently in the hopes she might say that then, of course, he would have his answer in the afternoon so that he might do just that, bolstered by the need to arrange matters regarding an impending wedding.
But she did not.
Chapter 15
The moment Fanny had farewelled their short-lived houseguest from the front portico, she swung round to her sister.
“Did you notice his cowlick?” she asked.
Antoinette was more occupied noticing the cut of her beloved Ambrose’s coat—or rather, the lovely smooth swell just below the waistline as he bent to adjust his boot before climbing the stairs to join them—than Mr Perceval’s cowlick. She therefore had to be asked a second time the question which had been hissed in hurried tones as Ambrose would soon be within earshot.
“Ambrose doesn’t have a cowlick—do you, my love?—though he has many more interesting things which I’ve just been admiring.” She contoured his rump with a quick skim of her hands before turning as the double doors were opened to admit them. Even the arrival of the dignified Bentink upon the threshold couldn’t stop her whispering loudly in her lover’s ear, “Why, you are just the cleverest spy in all England, Ambrose, you little cherub.”
Fanny throttled her frustration as her sister, stepping inside as she clung to Ambrose’s arm, added, “I know it was all very tragic for Miss Montrose to learn that the man she’s been in love with all these years and who abandoned her—after murdering her brother, no less—is as ever out of reach, but don’t you think it’s a wonderful thing for her to know she can, guiltlessly, bestow her affections on a far worthier suitor—Mr Patmore? Why, it couldn’t have worked out better, really. And it’s only due to your astonishing sleuthing and acting capabilities, Ambrose. Why, you should be working for the Home Office or Foreign Office, not on the stage, though I suppose the qualities and attributes are interchangeable,” she said airily. “But Mr Perceval, while handsome, certainly had none of Mr Patmore’s cachet.”
“A dull dog, if you ask me,” Ambrose said with a decisive nod. “Had to goad him to put a wager on a sure bet, and do you think he thanked me when it came in?” He shook his head in answer to his own question. “Said he wasn’t one for taking chances. Couldn’t wait to get back to that God-forsaken bit of dirt across the sea, where there were no surprises waiting for him except a comfortable wife and soon a new heir, he hoped. Devilish uncomfortable this whole affair made him. Good he knew it was time to bow out gracefully.”
“No, there really was no comparison to be made,” Antoinette rattled on as they arrived at the drawing room, “and I think Miss Montrose realised that, so I daresay Miss Montrose and Mr Patmore will come back from the stables smelling of April and May with a wedding to announce.”
Fanny nibbled her little finger. “I hope you’re right, Antoinette. She certainly seemed upset when she left us. Do you know if Mr Perceval and Miss Montrose had any private conversation? I mean, it was a rather abrupt departure on his part. I was sure he was staying three days and there’d be plenty of time for them to settle their differences, digest the past, come to terms with what had happened.” She felt unsettled and uncertain.
“It was, I agree—and I’d also adore a dish of tea. Ambrose, can you arrange that, dearest? No, don’t just go to the bellpull. I want you to find one of the servants and ask them personally. They’re so slow in coming when I pull on that thing. And make sure you’re gone for at least five minutes. Now Fanny, why were you asking me about a cowlick?”
Even with Ambrose out of earshot, having obediently gone to do Antoinette’s bidding, Fanny had nothing worth saying. With the passing of only half an hour since the faint stirring of consciousness when she’d glanced between Jack and Mr Perceval, Fanny was already counselling herself not to see dramatic coincidences when there were none.
“Never mind, it was nothing. And I’m sure you’re right when you say the pair of them will come back and happily announce their betrothal. Ah, Katherine, you’ve deigned to do my bidding. Well, it’s too late now. I asked Jack to send you here immediately—and certainly before Mrs Candlewick left—but the naughty boy obviously didn’t heed my request, or chose to ignore it.”
Katherine stared dolefully down at a grass stain on the hem of her white muslin. “He was coming for me, Mama, truly! Oh please, can’t I have a new dress,” the little girl begged. “We could go into the village and see that dressmaker lady at her cottage and have iced buns in the High Street.” The thought made her eyes light up, but her mother shook her head. Fanny wasn’t one to pander to anyone when her mood was disordered. “Clearly, Jack wasn’t coming for you, despite what I asked of him, and you are far too fond of that child. What will you do when suddenly he’s big enough to be sent away to become a bootboy and can no longer be your plaything at your beck and call?”
Katherine gasped and looked as if she were about to cry. “That won’t happen, will it, Mama? Won’t he stay here forever and ever? He’s my friend. My absolutest best friend. He makes sure that awful George doesn’t do all the horrid things George likes to do when he catches frogs or birds.”
“Well, he’s not much use to me if he doesn’t carry out my instructions,” muttered Fanny irritably. She was feeling unaccountably out of sorts, and wondered whether it was because the visit by Mr Perceval seemed so unsatisfactory, and he’d caused Miss Montrose so much hurt when really, it was she and Antoinette who’d orchestrated the reunion.
“But Jack was coming to get me. I saw him running up the hill. I was in my favourite tree—you know, the oak near the lake—and he knew that’s where he’d find me, but then Uncle George grabbed him by the arm a little way away, and I heard him telling George he had an important job to do tomorrow with Devil and the race.”
Fanny’s ears pricked up and Antoinette, who’d been gazing dreamily through the window, asked, “What important job was that, dear?”
Katherine shrugged. “Not very important. Only to hold Devil’s reins and keep him quiet and from running away from the middle of the course until someone else came to fetch Devil to finish.”
“To finish what, Katherine?” Fanny asked with studied calm.
“The race, of course. Uncle George said he had a shilling for Jack if he didn’t tell anyone, and another shilling if he met him somewhere, and then he’d tell him exactly what he must do. Mama, can I have a shilling for telling you?” The little girl sent her mother a shrewd look. “It’s valuable information if Uncle George is wanting to pay Jack not to tell anyone.”
“Yes, but only if you don’t tell anyone, either,” said Fanny, reaching for her reticule. She rummaged for a coin, held it out, then withdrew it, saying, “On second thoughts, not yet, else there’ll be all sorts of questions about where you got it and then people will wonder why you’re being so close-lipped, which wouldn’t be like you at all, would it, Katherine?”
“But Mama!” the girl cried, upset.
/> “Katherine, think of it as a valuable lesson. And if you learn it well, I shall give you two shillings tomorrow, instead of one today. Now, no need to say a word of any of this, for here comes Ambrose.”
