Chapter Eighteen

“Meggy, ask Mr. Penny to have a carriage brought round,” Madeline said. “My mother has taken one, but my father left on horseback this morning, leaving the second carriage for our use.”

“The earl said that?” Meggy asked. “That he left the second carriage in case you wanted to go somewhere? Without the countess?”

“Certainly not, but it is available and we require it.”

Meggy took a step back. “May I ask why we require it?”

Madeline took in a deep breath. “We require it because I cannot just sit here hoping that I will encounter Lord Souderton somewhere. I must find him and tell him of my mistake. I must tell him that Lord Bumbledon has caused all this trouble with the drizzling box. And most of all, I must apologize for leaping to the conclusion that he was a rogue of some sort.”

“Wait a minute,” Meggy said, “are you proposing that we, that we…”

“Yes, we go to the lord’s house to seek him out.”

“You cannot do that! A young unmarried lady arriving at a gentleman’s house, uninvited and unescorted. It is not done.”

“I am well aware that it is not done, and yet I must do it.”

“It will cause talk. Terrible talk,” Meggy said, twisting a pair of Madeline’s gloves in her hand.

“As to that, I’ve already had quite a bit of talk going round about me. I do not suppose this will be worse than the idea that I advertised for a schoolmaster to wed.”

Madeline was doing her very best to be resolute. She knew perfectly well that what she planned was wildly inappropriate. If it were known, it would cause the worst sort of talk and her father would pack them all off to Brighton. Further, he would be deeply disappointed in her, which she did not wish for.

On the other hand, she was convinced that there were moments in a person’s life in which they must act. To not act was an act in itself. No decision was a decision. She would not look back on her history, years from now, and wonder why she had not acted. She did not know if it would serve any purpose, but she must try or regret that she did not try forevermore.

“Your father, your mother—I will be dismissed!”

“You will not be dismissed. I will tell my parents that I was determined to go alone and that was the only reason you accompanied me. I informed you that if you breathed a word to Mr. Penny, I would dismiss you on the spot. I was quite irrational and could not be stopped.”

“You are quite irrational!” Meggy cried, throwing the crumpled pair of gloves in her hand on the dressing table.

“There, you see? You only need tell the truth and you are absolved. The entire fault of it must be on my shoulders alone. Now, the carriage, Meggy, or I will run there on my own two feet, quite alone! Tell Mr. Penny we are off to see Great Aunt Pegatha. He cannot be opposed to me visiting an old and infirm female relation.”

Meggy muttered something under her breath, which if Madeline heard it correctly was an oath more suited for the docks. Nevertheless, her maid set off to arrange for the carriage.

Madeline well knew that what she proposed to do was shocking and scandalous. But then, who was to say she was not seen knocking on Lord Souderton’s door because his duchess had invited her to tea? Anyone viewing her from the street might assume it. It was not as if she were arriving to a house where a gentleman lived alone.

In any case, what were her other choices? Lord Souderton had been terribly used and was likely talked about all over Town since the duchess’ party. What she, Miss Welter, and Miss Smollen had said about him! And then talk of his wild eyes and trying to get her alone, all capped off by Miss Welter’s debut as a fainting lady…

The fault was not just on Lord Bumbledon’s part, though it would be comfortable to think so. He had been at the root of it, but fault lay on her own shoulders too. How could she have been mooning over a gentleman and imagining herself in love, and then at the first sign of trouble she did not give him the benefit of the doubt? Especially when he’d given her the benefit of the doubt upon discovering she was the author of the advertisement.

Madeline was not certain it did not say something awful about her character. Where had been her steadfastness? She would have thought, prior to this moment, that she would be filled with steadfastness when called upon.

She had so easily decided his guilt, simply because she could not see any other explanation for what had happened.

He had not condemned her when all the talk went round about the advertisement. He had not blamed her when he’d been implicated in it. He’d not blamed her when she admitted to him that she had put the advertisement in.

He’d had faith in her, and she’d paid him for his trouble with accusations. It was a lesson she would not soon forget—just because one could not see the answer, did not mean the answer was not there. If one cared for a person, they must be steadfast in their corner no matter what the answer might at first seem to be.

Meggy came back into the room, breathless. “Well, he’s ordered the carriage to come round. Goodness, I do not think Mr. Penny would have believed any of my story if he was not still shaken by Lord Bumbledon’s visit. In his right mind he would have realized that nobody ever wishes to visit Lady Pegatha.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If Mr. Penny were to be honest with himself, he found himself a bit relieved that Lady Madeline had chosen this afternoon to make a visit to old Lady Pegatha. The house was empty of people needing to be served, which left him to take a breath.

What a situation had occurred in the drawing room. What was the earl to be told about it? Lord Bumbledon and his mother had charged into the house and then Lady Madeline had somehow guessed they had sent that cursed drizzling box.

The League worked to know everything of any import that occurred in society, but they had not known that the drizzling box had never been opened. They had not known that the only person who could have any idea of what was in the box was the sender. Mr. Penny was not certain how Lady Madeline came across that bit of information. He supposed it was a timely reminder that they could not, in fact, be everywhere at once.

Lord Bumbledon was underhanded indeed to attempt to throw suspicion on another lord.

Of course, that idea did give Mr. Penny the smallest pause. The League had worked to point the finger at Lord Bumbledon regarding the advertisement in the newspaper. But Mr. Penny soon satisfied himself with the notion that their own motives had been pure. Or almost pure. While Lord Bumbledon’s had been self-interest.

Mr. Penny very much feared the earl’s friendship with Lord Bumbledon must come to an end. As for the earl’s idea that Lady Madeline might take to the gentleman, that had never had a beginning so an end was not necessary.

He sank down in a chair in the drawing room, as he was his habit of doing when all the family were out. It gave him a good view out the window so he might see one of them returning without requiring him to be on his feet all the time he waited. As well, he had artfully arranged the drawing room to leave the most comfortable chair in that location. The countess trusted his taste in such things, and his taste was to have the most comfortable chair nearby.

He had ordered a nice cup of tea for himself and now worked to turn his thoughts to happier subjects. After all, if one chose to notice the small pleasures at hand, one could lift one’s spirits. The day was sunny, his view was pleasant, his tea was hot—these were the things he must put his attention to. Raising one’s spirits often required a person to make the world small and only look at what was directly in front of him. One should only look further afield when the field was clear of difficulties.

The youngest footman, Freddy, came hesitantly into the room. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, Freddy?” Mr. Penny said, putting his teacup down on the windowsill.

“Mr. Penny, do you recall telling me that reporting what I observed was not tattling?”

“Indeed I did, Freddy. My footmen are my eyes and ears as I cannot be everywhere at once, as I have been recently reminded. I, alone, have the experience to devise the correct response to any situation. Do not take things on your shoulders that are above your ken, it will only make you nervous.”

“Yes, I’m glad you say so,” Freddy said, looking encouraged. “I was feeling nervous on thinking about it. But as you say, it’s only because it’s beyond my ken.”

“I am glad you understand me, lad. Now tell me what it is you are carrying on those young shoulders.”

“You see, Mr. Penny, I happened to hear Lady Madeline give direction to the coachman.”

“Ah yes, Lady Pegatha lives on Curzon Street.”

Mr. Penny could not help but to notice that this news seemed to affect Freddy greatly.

“Mr. Penny,” he whispered, “Lady Madeline directed the carriage to Portland Place.”

It took Mr. Penny some few seconds to really hear what Freddy had said. He must be mistaken. Lady Pegatha lived on Curzon Street.

Then the truth of it rolled over him like a rogue wave. Why had he ever believed that story about visiting Lady Pegatha? She was a horrid old creature who did not like anyone or anything. Any visit made to the lady was done as a duty—an unwelcome duty.

As far as he had ever heard it, anybody daring to visit Lady Pegatha would be regaled with all her many complaints. These encompassed her rheumatism, the lack of single gentlemen her own age because they were all dead, her cook’s decided lack of talent, her maid’s stupidity, and how all her friends were remiss in writing her. She always followed the last comment by noting that her friends might not write her anymore because they were all dead. On top of the less than charming conversation, the countess always complained about the musty smell in the lady’s house, as if she had not opened the windows in thirty years.

The most important thing about Lady Pegatha, though, is that she did not live on Portland Place. She lived on Curzon Street.

The Duke and Duchess of Redmond kept a house on Portland Place. Lord Souderton lived on Portland Place.

Lady Madeline would not think to…she could not dare to…why had Meggy not told him the truth? Did the girl not see that her mistress was barreling toward disaster?

What was he to do?

If there had been a carriage left behind in the stables, he might commandeer it and race toward Portland Place and throw himself in front of Lady Madeline before she reached the front doors to commence whatever foolish thing she’d thought to do. There were extra horses he might saddle, but that was assuming he could manage to stay atop a horse at a gallop, which was a decidedly low chance. It would be a decidedly low chance at anything but a walk. They’d got too much of a head start on him for a walk.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing but pray.

“Freddy,” he said, “I think you must have been mistaken in what you think you heard. I am ordering you to wipe it out of your mind instantly and permanently and never mention it to another soul again. Think no more about it and worry no more about it.”

Freddy nodded, looking relieved that he was to forget all about this alarming information.

Mr. Penny would do the same. He’d never heard any of it. He would just sit very still with his tea and think about the sunshine and the lovely view.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Now that Madeline was on her way to Portland Place, her nerves did catch up with her a little bit. The fact that Meggy sat across from her wide-eyed and pale did not help matters.

Nevertheless, she must go forward. She could not turn round now. It might be the only chance she ever got to say her piece to Lord Souderton.

“You do see why we must do this, Meggy?” she asked.

“Not exactly.”

“It might be my only chance. Gentlemen can do what they like at any moment. What if Lord Souderton decides London is too uncomfortable just now? He might pack a bag and be off somewhere in a moment. He might go home, or to the coast, or to Scotland, or to a friend in Cornwall or Northumberland or anywhere in between—gentlemen are free to move about the country as they please. And then there he is, off somewhere, and he encounters some lady…who knows what could happen!”

Meggy rubbed her chin. “I hadn’t thought of him running off and encountering ladies everywhere.”

“He might though,” Madeline said. “After all, why would he stay?”

“Aye, then you’d end the season in a mope.”

“I would keep moping, probably all my life,” Madeline said dramatically. She was not certain that was true, but it might be true. She really could not imagine feeling for anyone as she did Lord Souderton. And if she did not, how could she ever bear to wed? Was she to pretend at affection for some hapless gentleman? A person could not keep up such a fa?ade for a lifetime.

“Aye, you might end a spinster, forever working at the school and worrying over impoverished pupils.”

That did sound right. After all, if she could not fix this, what else would she have in her life? She would have to put all her attention to helping young people attain their potential.

“Yes, Meggy—the school will be all that’s left for me.”

“The earl wouldn’t like that, he surely would not. We’d best find Lord Souderton before he jumps on a horse and gallops out of Town,” Meggy said, with a new stalwartness in her tone.

It was well that Meggy’s mind had been turned, as the carriage slowed in front of the Duke of Redmond’s residence on Portland Place.

“Come, Meggy,” she said, as the carriage door was opened for them, “let us go before we lose our nerve.”

“There is no time for losing nerve, my lady,” Meggy said. “Lord Souderton’s horse might be getting saddled this minute—who knows where he might gallop off to.”

They tripped up the steps ahead of the groom, who was very likely intending to knock on the door for them. Madeline could feel the coachman’s eyes boring into her back, as if he suspected something was amiss, which it was.

Madeline rapped the door knocker and, in a moment, a young footman opened it. Madeline took a breath. “Lady Madeline Cole to see Lord Souderton. It is urgent.”

“Urgent?” the footman said, clearly attempting to work out what to do with her.

“You heard the lady, urgent,” Meggy said, staring him down.

“He is not at home though,” the footman said.

“When you say not at home,” Meggy said, “do you say he is home but not at home, or actually not at home?”

“Actually?”

“I’m not sure I believe him,” Meggy said.

Just then, beyond the footman, Madeline saw a gentleman’s shoes and trousers jogging down the stairs, then the whole of the gentleman’s person appeared.

The footman turned and said, “Mr. Henderson, these ladies look for Lord Souderton and do not believe he is not here!”

The gentleman hurried to the door and peered out.

In her most regal tone, Madeline said, “Lady Madeline Cole. I must speak to Lord Souderton on a matter of some urgency.”

“Lady Madeline? I see!” the gentleman said. “I am Henderson, the lord’s valet.” He lowered his voice and said, “He really is not here, but the duke and duchess are.”

This struck Madeline rather hard. She had no wish to explain herself to the duke and duchess. Particularly the duke.

“I know where he is,” Henderson said. “Fencing at Angelos with Sir Jonathan.”

He hadn’t left Town yet. That was very good news.

“I thank you, Henderson. We will set off for Angelos, if you would be so kind as to give us the address.”

Henderson snorted. “You’ll need help getting inside and finding your way, it is not a usual place for a lady. At least, not your sort of lady—mostly actresses needing a bit of fencing for the stage frequent the place. Let me get my coat.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Owen sat down on a bench exhausted, the sweat pouring from him. His shirt was soaked through, and his forehead dripped. He supposed Sir Jonathan’s goal had been to work him hard to take his mind off his problems and expend pent-up energy. If that had been the goal, it had been reached and left behind in the distance.

Sir Jonathan was renowned for his skill, so while Owen was not unskilled in his own estimation, very few could ever get the better of the fellow. Still, he had fenced with him no end of times and this one had been especially brutal.

Sir Jonathan handed him a towel to wipe his face and sat down. They were both breathing hard.

“You’re getting better, I think,” Sir Jonathan said.

Owen laughed between breaths. “I feel like I just went through a war.”

“Best thing to do though,” Sir Jonathan said. “At the moment.”

“And what a moment it is,” Owen said.

“What is the truth of it, though?”

“That’s just it—I do not know what the truth of it is,” Owen said, rubbing his face dry. “I suspect Bumbledon sent that blasted drizzling box and signed my name in an effort to make Lady Madeline believe I preferred another lady.”

“But you do not prefer another lady, I presume.”

“No, I do not. Then, when I denied sending it to Miss Welter’s father, that fellow somehow got the idea that I was up to something scurrilous with his daughter.”

“Up to something with Miss Welter,” Sir Jonathan said with a snort.

“Yes, as improbable as that sounds.”

“So that was why you were roundly condemned at the duchess’ party?”

Owen nodded. “Somehow, Miss Welter has dragged Lady Madeline and Miss Smollen into her delusions. So now they all three think I am some kind of rogue with low intentions. Before Miss Welter decided to faint on the floor, she and Miss Smollen warned Lady Madeline about my wild eyes and that she was not to allow me to get her alone.”

Sir Jonathan rubbed his chin. “I hadn’t known it was bad as that. What shall you do?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’d like to prove Bumbledon was at the bottom of it.”

“I don’t see how, though.”

“Sooner or later, his arm will come out of that sling. At that moment, I will give him an ultimatum—either admit what he did or meet me on a green.”

Sir Jonathan nodded. “I think that would work, actually. He would never risk his person and by the look of him, he’d be running quite the risk.”

“It is my only idea,” Owen said. “With any luck, Lady Madeline will not wed somebody else until I can get that done.”

“Lord Gentry is no longer hanging about her—he’s turned his attention to Lady Emily.”

“Good. Though not good for Lady Emily. Gentry is a smarmy idiot.”

“Perhaps you ought to get out of Town for a while, until the talk settles down. We keep saying we’ll go to Lancashire to see Merriot’s horses and we never do. Let us go now. Lady Michaels will not mind it, she’s hosting Lady Layten, previously known as Lady Juniper. The two are thick as thieves and will not miss my company. At least, Lady Layten won’t.”

“It is a kind offer, perhaps I should take you up on it.”

Just then, the doors to the private training room were flung open and crashed against the walls.

For a moment, Owen wondered if he’d received a blow to the head. As impossible as it was, Lady Madeline rushed through the doors, accompanied by his valet.