7. A Hat Makes a Man

Earlier, in front of Weatherstone Manor

About to step up to the driver's seat of the Castlewait coach, an idea had Parker pausing. If he waited for a few minutes, he might learn the identity of the hatless man he had passed.

He placed the Earl of Wilmington's hat into the coach and made his way down the line of carriages, calling out greetings to other drivers as he took note of the gold crests on their coach doors. He recognized several as belonging to aristocrats who apparently preferred to play cards over dancing. It might be dawn before their owners took their leave of Weatherstone Manor.

"You still stargazing?" one of the older drivers chided.

"Always," he replied, giving the driver of the Marquess of Reading's coach a wave before he strolled on.

From the way the horses in front of the last coach were breathing and stomping, he knew the equipage had delivered the hatless man—none of the other beasts behaved as if they had been running in the last few mintes. He glanced up at the driver. "Haven't see you 'afore," he said. "Name's Parker."

"Thomas," the young man replied, his expression sullen. "And I'm missing me bed, as are the 'orses."

Parker gave an exaggerated shrug. "Your lordship still in the card parlor, too?" he asked, glancing back toward the house to be sure the hatless man hadn't yet emerged.

Thomas scoffed. "I wish," he replied on a huff. "Then I would be in me bed for the night."

"What do you mean?" Parker asked, deciding the driver had to be the one who had brought the hatless man.

"The baron didn't even attend the ball, but his business associate did. Left his hat behind," the young driver remarked with a scoff. "Thought I was going to lose me job."

"Over a hat?" Parker asked, pretending to study one of the horses.

"Over the coach not having anyone in it," Thomas replied. Younger than most drivers, he displayed cheeks pocked with acne, and his top hat looked to be entirely too large for his head.

Parker gave a start. "Who's your employer?" He glanced back towards the manor house, noting the front door had opened and a gentleman was making his exit.

"Kravets," the young driver answered, saying the name as if it were a curse. "I left exactly when I was supposed to," he added, holding up a chronometer. "Can't help it if some gent missed his ride to the baron's house."

Confused, Parker said, "If Lord Kravets didn't attend the ball, and your other fare missed his ride..." He paused as it dawned on him exactly what the boy meant. "Then whose hat have you come back for?"

"Mine," another voice said from behind him.

Parker whirled around to discover the hatless man from earlier approaching the coach. The short top hat Parker had returned only a few minutes before was on his head, and an expression of recognition was apparent on his face.

"You," Elias Turnbridge said as he stopped in front of Parker.

"Me, sir?" Parker replied, pretending ignorance.

"Did you... did you just return a hat to the Weatherstone house a few minutes ago?" Elias pointed to the top hat on his head. "This one?"

Parker exchanged a quick glance with Thomas. "And what if I did?"

Momentarily speechless, Elias sighed. "Well, I would wish to thank you and to ask who might have ended up with it by accident," he explained, attempting to sound reasonable. "So I could send a note of thanks," he added. "I thought it lost, you see."

Not recognizing the gentleman as someone who had seen attending Society events in the past, Parker furrowed a brow. He didn't want to tell the man he had been sent by his mistress, nor did he want to say anything about Lord Wilmington. "Well, truth be told, sir, I found it out here. On the pavement," he said, pointing in the direction from which he had come. "I like to stargaze, you see, and I nearly kicked it given the dark. I hope it's not ruined, sir."

His face falling at hearing Parker's response, Elias merely shook his head. "It's fine," he said. He sighed again. Loudly.

"What is it, sir? What's wrong?" Parker asked.

"I've lost a man," Elias stated, rolling his eyes as he realized he had no news to share with Lord Kravets. The baron would be livid when he told him he didn't know the whereabouts of Lord Wilmington.

"Sir?" Parker said, his eyes rounding in pretend shock.

Elias Turnbridge gave his head a shake. For a moment, he was sure he was about to learn the whereabouts of Lord Wilmington. He could barely hide his disappointment at learning his hat had been found on the pavement. "My friend was terribly drunk, you see, and in my haste to get him out of the house and into the coach, I apparently put him in the wrong coach." He glanced up at Thomas, who just then realized he was supposed to get down to open the coach door for the gentleman. "I'm surprised someone hasn't reported a stowaway," Elias added as his brows furrowed. He glanced down the line of coaches. "Unless..."

The young man jumped to the pavement next to Parker. "Sorry, sir, about all of it." He moved to open the door.

Elias held up a gloved hand to the young driver. "Start checking inside these coaches," he ordered. "My drunk friend may be in one of them." Although his expression conveyed finding the missing gentleman was still possible, Elias had already given up hope. After what the footman had said about Lord JW kissing a young lady behind a hedgerow in the gardens, he was fairly sure Lord JW and Lord Wilmington were two different people.

Parker exchanged a glance with the younger driver, immediately aware that Elias would not find the drunk friend in any of them. "I should get back to her ladyship's coach," Parker said as he gave the gentleman a slight bow. Although he desperately wanted to return to the Castlewait townhouse with the information he had learned, he knew he couldn't leave directly. Both the young driver and his passenger believed he was merely waiting on his mistress. "But I can help your driver look if you'd like," he offered.

"Your help would be most welcome," Elias stated.

"We can see to this, sir," Thomas said.

"All right," Elias replied. He climbed into the coach as Thomas and Parker made their way to the next coach in line.

Parker called up to Lord Reading's driver. "Any chance you have a stowaway in your coach?"

The older driver scoffed. "Not a chance. Been sitting here all night," he replied. "But you can look if you must."

Thomas opened the door and peeked in, whistling his appreciation at seeing the interior of the marquess' coach. He closed the door and they moved on to the next in line.

"This gent that was drunk... who was he?" Parker asked as they made their way.

Pausing, Thomas shrugged. "Near as I can tell, some bloke who's friends with Mr. Turnbridge."

"Turnbridge is that gentleman back there?"

Thomas nodded. "What I can't sort is how he knew the man was going to be drunk and exactly when," he remarked as they looked into the next coach. He shut the door. "I was just told to drive to the baron's house no later than half-past-ten. So I did."

Parker had no trouble pretending interest in what the young driver had to say. "Was Mr. Turnbridge in the coach at the time?"

Stopping to consider the query, Thomas frowned. "No, he wasn't."

"Well, didn't you just bring him here from the baron's house?" Parker asked, now confused.

"I did."

"Well, how did he get to the baron's house if he wasn't in the coach when you left at half-past-ten?"

Thomas waved a gloved hand. "Oh, he didn't get to the baron's house until much later," he explained. "Arrived in a hackney… mayhap an hour ago."

Parker gave a start. Turnbridge had apparently been instructed to send his drunk friend in Lord Kravets' coach and then remain at the ball. "So... when you arrived at the baron's house with the empty coach, what happened exactly?"

Thomas threw up his hands in despair. "When Lord Kravets opened the door and discovered the coach was empty, he was fit to be tied. Kept asking me where Lord Waterford...Waddleston..."

"Wilmington?" Parker offered.

"Yeah, Wilmington. He was supposed to be drunk, in the coach."

Parker grimaced. "Any idea why?" he asked before he called up to the next driver. "Can we look inside your coach? Like to see how the rich folk ride."

The driver looked up from a book he was reading by the light of a coach lantern. "Fine by me."

"Accordin' to the servants, his lordship thinks his daughter was ruint by Lord Wilmington, so he's going to make 'im marry her," Thomas said as he opened the coach door. The scent of floral perfume spilled out, which had Thomas coughing and Parker sniffing in delight.

"Well, I can tell you, it wasn't Lord Wilmington doing the ruining of Lord Kravets' daughter," Parker remarked dryly. "He's a right proper gentleman."

Thomas gave a start. "Well, if it weren't 'im, who was it?"

Parker furrowed his brows as he shut the coach door. "Well, now that's the question, isn't it?"

When the last coach—Lady Castlewait's coach—proved empty, Parker gave a shrug. "I guess Lord Kravets won't be getting a drunk Lord Wilmington on this night," he murmured.

Thomas nodded, but his attention was on the gold crest on the Castlewait coach door.

"What is it?" Parker asked, following the younger driver's line of sight.

"Looks a lot like the baron's crest is all," he said with a shrug.

Parker did his best to display a passive expression. "A little, I suppose," he replied, stunned by the similarity. Only the motto was different. "Well, you have a good night."

"Thanks for the help," Thomas replied. "I'll be getting Mr. Turnbridge home now."

"Good to meet you. I'm sure we'll see one another at future entertainments," Parker said.

He watched as the young man hurried back along the line of coaches, losing sight of him when he climbed onto the driver's seat.

As anxious as he was to drive to the Castlewait townhouse to return Lord Wilmington's top hap and tell her ladyship what he had discovered, Parker knew he would have to remain in front of the manor until long after the Kravets coach departed.