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Chapter Thirteen

As a highly placed butler, Mr. Wilburn had always been comfortable in the idea that he was in the know. If there was talk about this or that—if that family had an errant son or that other family just made a brilliant match or anything of note at all happened in Town, Mr. Harold P. Wilburn would know it.

Now, when he urgently required being in the know, he felt very much in the dark. Mysteries were swirling around him and he could not unravel them.

Over breakfast at the servants' table, he'd taken care of the business of the house first, though there was not much out of the ordinary on their shoulders this particular day. Masterson had been informed late the night before that the earl's valet was ill and he would need to step in for a day or two. Other than that, things would proceed quite usually.

Once that was accomplished, Mr. Wilburn launched his plan to have it get back to Lord Bramley that Lady Constance had an interest in the very rich Mr. Ludwig. He even went so far as to claim that Mr. Ludwig had called upon Lady Constance and was received favorably.

Masterson had paid close attention and taken in every word. Mr. Wilburn had every confidence that the news would be relayed that very morning. Masterson would dress the earl, then he would proceed to Lord Bramley, and the information would be communicated.

It was all to go so smoothly! Lord Bramley would see that Lady Constance looked for a gentleman far more prosperous than he was, as she, herself, did not come with a significant fortune. The lord would likely be disappointed, but he would be sensible and he would turn his attentions elsewhere. That elsewhere would hopefully be in the direction of Lady Juniper or Miss Semper.

Sadly, it had not gone as smoothly as he'd anticipated.

As he'd looked over the sideboard in the breakfast room to assure himself that everything was in order for the lord's breakfast, he heard a terrific shout from the great hall. A shout emanating from the earl.

He'd hurried out to see what caused such a commotion and found the earl with a sheet of paper in his hand.

"Did you know of this, Wilburn?"

Know of it? Know of what?

He had a sinking feeling it might be some sort of letter about racing off to Gretna Green with Lady Constance. It would be a disaster!

"My lord?" he asked.

"My son writes that he is off to Surrey," the earl said.

"Surrey?" Mr. Wilburn repeated, silently thanking the heavens it was not Scotland.

"Oh yes," the earl said, "he writes that he is convinced that the estate is not producing what it should and he has gone to sort it out. Sort it out, he says. Does he accuse me of mismanagement?"

"I am sure not, my lord," Mr. Wilburn said. Though, that was probably exactly what Lord Bramley accused his father of.

He had a very sinking feeling that it might not be as easy as he'd imagined to get Lord Bramley off the subject of Lady Constance. Certainly, that was what had prompted him to take this harebrained trip. The earl had explained backwards and forwards that Lord Bramley must bring in a hefty dowry for the sake of the estate. Instead of complying with that very logical request, he'd run off to attempt to prove it was not so.

"Did Masterson know of this?" the earl asked. "Get me Masterson. If he did know, I will sack him on the spot."

Mr. Wilburn nodded and hurried up the stairs to locate the valet. He must assume Masterson had not known, else he'd have mentioned it over the breakfast table. As for sacking Lord Bramley's valet, that would cause a real uproar and he certainly hoped it would not come to that. It could very well cause a wide rift between father and son.

He found Masterson in the lord's room and sent him below, while he followed fast on his heels. Before he left the room, he did notice, suspiciously, a luggage case in the corner of the bedchamber.

God help Masterson if he knew about this trip.

The earl was pacing the hall. The countess had drifted in and the earl said, "Did you know your son has gone to Surrey to straighten out the estate?"

"Goodness no, does it need straightening out?" the countess asked.

"It certainly does not," the earl shouted.

The countess walked away into the breakfast room murmuring, "Way of the world, darling."

Mr. Wilburn once more wished that the countess would take her breakfast in her bedchamber like every other married lady. She refused to do it, though. She claimed being served a meal alone in her room made her feel like a prisoner.

He thought her reasons somewhat different. Mr. Wilburn was convinced that it amused her to aggravate the earl first thing in the morning about the ways of the world.

Predictably, the earl was enraged. He did not care for the countess' ideas about the world and its ways, especially in the morning.

"Masterson," the earl said, "did you know of my son's proposed trip this morning?"

The valet shook his head. "No, my lord," he said, "he told me yesterday that he would dress himself and be out very early this morning to see a horse he's interested in run a gallop down the Rotten Row. He said I should have a bath ready at ten o'clock."

Mr. Wilburn stared at the valet. It was a rather specific story. He was also convinced it was in fact an invented story. If it had been the truth, it would have been mentioned at the servants' table, as the kitchen maids would have had to get the large pots of water simmering on the stove for a bath.

"I see, so he's fooled you too," the earl said, mollified that the valet had not been in league with his master.

"I feel very fooled, my lord. Did he say where he was going?"

Mr. Wilburn pressed his lips together; he was certain Masterson knew very well where Lord Bramley had gone. He'd likely have gone too had the earl's own valet not been taken ill.

"He's gone to Surrey, to review the doings of the estate!"

"He never has, my lord."

"It is highhanded, is what it is," the earl said.

"It don't seem right, my lord," the valet said.

"That is just it, you understand me, Masterson. It is not right. I am the earl, not him. He's got too big for his breeches. I'll not stand for it!"

"I suppose you'll want me to take a letter to him, outlining your displeasure and calling him back to Town," Masterson said sadly.

Mr. Wilburn tried very hard to stop his eyes rolling round in his head over that proposal.

The earl obviously had not considered such a thing, but he would be reluctant to admit that he had not.

"Of course that is what I want. What else would I want? Set off first thing tomorrow morning. You will hire a carriage and carry a scathing letter from me. I will write that scathing letter this very minute!"

"But my lord," Mr. Wilburn said, "to send Masterson away…your own valet has been taken ill."

"Jackson has got a head cold," the earl said. "Tell him to drink some soup and rest today and then get on with it."

With that, Lord Wisterley stormed toward the library shouting, "Bring me coffee, Wilburn! I'll need it for the letter I am about to write to my son."

So that was the morning and one would very naturally assume that had been enough problems for one day.

At the servants' break before the earl's usual afternoon repast, he'd heard of yet another oncoming disaster. It seemed there had been a meeting of The Stalwarts, the cabal of Lady Juniper, Lady Constance, and Miss Semper that nobody really understood.

According to one of his staff, the ladies were launching something called Operation Trip-Up. What was it? Nobody knew, as the servant who'd overheard it had been away arranging lemon pound cake while it had been discussed.

He was to be kept in the dark over lemon pound cake now!

The final event to shake Mr. Wilburn was the return of a mahogany box and watercolors from Ackerman's. It was to be returned to Lord Bramley with no explanation, nor any explanation as to where it had been sent in the first place or who returned it. Mr. Wilburn thought he could guess well enough though.

Mr. Wilburn had marched it into Lord Bramley's dressing room and found Masterson packing a bag to bring on the morrow. A bag he'd planned to pack all along, no doubt.

"This has just been returned by Ackerman's, Mr. Masterson," he said, setting it down on a dresser.

He'd watched Masterson's expressions closely. First had come a shocked and worried look. That had been swiftly covered up with what he presumed was meant to be an air of nonchalance and indifference.

"I see," Masterson said.

"I do not see, though," Mr. Wilburn said. "Who is returning it? The boy who brought it back claimed he did not know."

"How should I know?" the valet said.

"The same way you would know that Lord Bramley went to Surrey before the earl informed you of it."

Masterson shrugged, but he did not bother to deny it.

Mr. Wilburn turned on his heel and stalked out, leaving the box behind. He would get no answers from Masterson. There were times when a servant's loyalty could prove very inconvenient.

As he closed the day with a brandy, his natural inclination toward hoping things would just work themselves out without too much effort on his part prompted him to wonder more about that mahogany box.

Everything else that had happened that day had been dreadful. Lord Bramley had enraged his father by going to Surrey to look over the estate's doings. The Stalwarts had launched the mysterious Operation Trip-Up, the details of which remained unknown on account of a lemon pound cake.

But the mahogany box—might that not end as good news? He was all but certain Lord Bramley had sent it to Lady Constance. If that were so, and she had returned it…

Of course, it might not have been her own inclination. Her father might have insisted.

Nevertheless, it might provide some sort of wedge between Lord Bramley and Lady Constance. That, along with the idea that Lady Constance had gladly received Mr. Ludwig, might be enough.

He must pin all his hopes on it. After all, there was no hope in Lord Bramley banging around the estate in Surrey and it was unlikely there was any hope in Operation Trip-Up, whatever it was.

Mr. Wilburn would not see the other butlers of the league for some days yet. He must just pray he had something better to report than the ridiculous happenings of the past twelve hours that had assaulted him one after the other.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Constance's thoughts regarding Lord Bramley had felt rather grim since Lord Nankin's card party. She had not the least interest in being out in society for any reason at this moment, but for one—both Lady Juniper and Miss Semper would be at Lord Kelgoody's rout this evening. She needed to speak to them as soon as possible to inform them of what she had discovered via Operation Trip-Up. She wished to hear their opinions. And truthfully, she wished their opinions would differ from her own.

Her father had not the least interest in attending the rout, but Constance had convinced her mother under the guise of wishing to see her friends Lady Juniper and Miss Semper.

It was not exactly a guise, as that was indeed why she wished to go. It was only that she had not revealed why she felt she must see them so urgently. Her mother was left to believe that it was just a young lady's longing to see new-made friends.

In any case, the countess had agreed and they had gone. Now, she searched the crowd for those two ladies.

Finally, she spotted Lady Juniper and hurried in her direction, leaving the countess to speak with Lady Kelgoody.

Lady Juniper was just that moment looking down her nose at some hopeful young gentleman who would not know he had no chance with her, as she had a viscount at home she was determined on.

"Ah, Lady Constance," Lady Juniper said at her approach, "I was just informing Lord Welty that I plan on ruling my household with an iron fist, children are not to be indulged, I expect a Godly house, I will not tolerate an excess of spirits, will only permit one half glass of wine at dinner, and I do not care for sauces, as they are far too French. Further, I am of the opinion that a married man has no further need for his clubs. I will never be left behind in the countryside, but I will be at my lord's side at all times. I am firm in the idea that a gentleman should know what he can expect."

Constance pressed her lips together tightly lest she laugh. Lady Juniper had trotted out what she called her "drive them off" speech meant to turn round any lothario who had an eye toward her dowry.

"Indeed," Lord Welty said shakily. "Lady Juniper."

The lord bowed and moved off as quickly as one can do through a crowd of people.

Lady Juniper smiled and her features softened. "That ought to pour some cold water on that gentleman's mercenary ideas."

"Rather," Constance said. "He seemed as if he'd looked into the eyes of the devil himself."

"These men really are so gullible—who on earth doesn't like a sauce? My viscount would never fall for such a ridiculous ruse. Now, I can see you have hurried to my side for more than the amusement of watching me frighten Lord Welty."

Constance nodded. "Have you seen Miss Semper? I really would like to have a conference with The Stalwarts to discuss what I discovered at Lord Nankin's card party."

"Say no more, Lady Constance," Lady Juniper said. "Miss Semper is in the refreshments room just now and I happen to know there is a cozy little snug at the back of it where we can have a quiet and confidential discussion. The Kelgoodys are long known to my family and I have hidden in that snug in my youth when I and his two daughters played at hide and seek. My father was so admiring of it that he built one very like at my own house, tucked behind a bookcase."

They set off to find Miss Semper, weaving round people as they went. Constance searched the rooms for Lord Bramley as they went. It was a silly thing to do, as he had said he would be off to Surrey.

But what if his ideas had changed? What if he'd thought better of going to his estate to make plans?

As she searched, her eyes met Mr. Ludwig's. She hurriedly looked away. There was something uncomfortable in the idea that he'd sent the mahogany box and watercolors and her mother had sent them back. He must have been embarrassed to receive them returned from Ackerman's. But really, he'd brought it on himself, as he should never have sent them. Or, as her mother said, he should have sent them anonymously.

It was a shame he had not, as it really had been a lovely box and the best quality paints. Of course, if there had been no note, she would have erroneously assumed they'd been sent by Lord Bramley.

Constance hurried to keep pace with Lady Juniper, who plowed through the crowd in pursuit of Miss Semper like a ship through a channel.

They did find that lady, and each helping themselves to a glass of Canary, they slipped into the snug.

To have such a little hideaway was a lovely idea. Constance thought every house should have one, though she did not have one at home. One would hardly know it was there, as the entrance was down a short hallway that would look as if would lead to a maid's closet. The snug's open doorway was on the right side and entirely hidden from view.

There were two very comfortable sofas, covered in well-worn gray velvet, facing each other and close together. The walls were painted in cream, and low light drifted in from the chandeliers of the refreshments room.

After they had settled themselves, Constance said, "Lord Bramley has gone to his estate in Surrey for a few days. To make plans about the estate."

"As we feared," Lady Juniper said, shaking her head. "Where there is a large dowry coming in, there are always plans."

"Yes," Miss Semper said. "You did say that was so."

"There is more, I'm afraid," Constance said. "I did as you suggested, Lady Juniper. I claimed you had sung his praises."

"Indeed," Lady Juniper said. "If he is after the largest amount he can find and then hears I am admiring, he will do an about face and reveal himself by attempting to woo me."

"Gracious," Miss Semper said, "what did he say to that idea?"

Both ladies leaned forward. Constance sighed. "He did not say anything at all. However, he was so taken aback that he dropped playing cards all over the floor and then changed the subject as fast as he possibly could."

"He dropped the playing cards," Miss Semper said, "what can it mean?"

"I'm afraid we cannot know what it means," Lady Juniper said.

"We cannot?" Constance asked. She had been really hoping that Lady Juniper would know, and that she would say it did not mean a thing. Perhaps it did not mean a thing, though not in a way she hoped. If he somehow knew the amount of her dowry there would be no need for an about face—he would know she was the most well-funded lady in Town.

If he knew.

"I fear we will need more information," Lady Juniper said. "He may just have been startled. We will discover more at his dinner, I suppose."

"Dinner?" Constance said. "Lord Bramley did not mention any sort of dinner."

"The invitation from his countess arrived today," Lady Juniper said.

"Oh yes, my aunt is very keen on going," Miss Semper said.

"I received no such invitation," Constance said.

"Perhaps it is just delayed, or went to the wrong address," Miss Semper said.

"Perhaps," Constance said. Though, it seemed the sort of thing Lord Bramley would have mentioned. He was to have the two richest ladies to dine. At least, the two richest everybody knew about. There was something obvious in it, just as having them on the barge was obvious. But then, if he knew of her own money, why was she excluded?

If he were after a large dowry and did not know of her money, why was he paying his attentions to her?

Could it be that he'd arranged for the dinner because Constance had informed him that Lady Juniper thought highly of him?

Reaching for any sort of reason why she was excluded that would be palatable, she said, "It could be that the earl was intent on hosting two ladies with significant dowries. And perhaps he does not know that I come with…a bit more than is advertised."

"So Lord Bramley may know, but might have kept it from his father?" Miss Semper asked. "Why?"

That was indeed the question. Why?

"This is very much a muddle at this point in our investigation. I think we must keep in mind," Lady Juniper said, "that there is the possibility that Lord Bramley is genuine."

"I pray it is so," Constance said. "Though, I must be certain of it and I understand little of what has gone on so far. Or what I think I do understand is not very promising."

"Perhaps the thing to do," Lady Juniper said, tapping her chin, "is to discover precisely what plans were made from his visit to his estate. If he speaks of something costly, like replacing the roof or adding to the structure, then we must presume he expects money to be coming his way. If a few rooms are being re-papered, then that would not cause alarm—such things are often done while the family is away."

"Or even if they are there," Miss Semper said. "Anybody might wish to re-paper at any time. My bedchamber at home was just re-papered before I came to Town. I had chosen what I thought to be a charming design. But it was peacocks, you see. I could hardly sleep, what with dozens of them staring at me all the time."

Both Constance and Lady Juniper laughed at the picture of peacocks staring from all four walls.

"Ladies!"

The suddenness of the interruption startled them all. Constance turned.

It was Mr. Ludwig filling up the doorframe.

"I have finally found you out," he said. "I've looked high and low and now here you are."

Mr. Ludwig moved further into the snug and Constance had the distinct idea that he might try to sit himself down. She, for one, would not stay if he did.

"Mr. Ludwig," Lady Juniper said, her face once more going pinched, "we are having a confidential ladies' conversation. As you are not a lady…"

"Ah, I see," Mr. Ludwig said, backing up. "I did not realize. Well! I just wished to discover if Lady Constance enjoyed the paints and mahogany box."

"The box?" Constance asked.

"Yes, the box," Mr. Ludwig said.

"My mother returned the box, Mr. Ludwig," Constance said.

"She did?" Mr. Ludwig asked.

Constance did not understand him. He must know the box was returned.

"Oh yes, of course," Mr. Ludwig said hurriedly. "I had forgotten."

All three ladies stared at him, waiting for the gentleman to explain how on earth he'd forgotten such a thing.

He bowed and said, "Ladies. I wish you good night."

Mr. Ludwig turned on his heel and disappeared out of the doorway.

Lady Juniper laid her forefinger over her lips. She quietly rose and peered round the doorframe.

"He is gone," she said, returning to her seat.

"Now I wonder," Miss Semper said, "if Mr. Ludwig is in the habit of sending out so many boxes and watercolors that he'd lost track—could that be why he did not realize Lady Constance's box was returned?"

"I shouldn't wonder at it," Lady Juniper said, "though I personally have not received one."

"Nor I," Miss Semper said.

"The Duchess of Ralston does not care for him," Constance said, "though she cannot say why. I think I am beginning to feel the same."

"Gracious," Miss Semper said, "I have just recently been told of the duchess' annual party—the secrets exposed evening."

They spent the next half hour discussing the secrets exposed party, all of them having the hope that they would escape the duchess' notice and not be included on her list of twenty ladies.

Of course, Constance found her mind often drifting to Lord Bramley. What was he doing on the estate? What did he know?

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