Seeking Philbert Woodbead ( A Madcap Regency Romance ) (The Fairweather Sisters) (12 page)

“Ask Mary
to fetch my quill, ink and the letters. Oh, and choose some books from the
library. I may read for a while. Send the duke to me if he comes home early
from his maggot hunting expedition. Come and talk to me in an hour, I may need
company….”

Celine
spent a few more minutes with the duchess making sure that she was comfortable.
Thereafter, she went to check on Dorothy.

The girl
was reading in the nursery with Gunhilda.

“I am too
old to be in the nursery,” Dorothy told her.

“The duke
makes the decisions in this house,” Celine replied apologetically.

Dorothy
nodded and started reading once again.

Celine
frowned, “Are you feeling alright?”

“I was
reading an account of a man suffering from a brooding liver. I think I have
it,” Dorothy said bracingly.

“Have
what?”

“A brooding
liver. I am certain of it. I read the account twice and our symptoms match.”

“What are
the symptoms?”

“Deep
sadness, a feeling of impending doom and a certainty that something has broken
away from the lower part of my stomach and made its way to the upper part of
it. Gunhilda says that if that had truly happened, then I should be stone cold
dead.”

“I don’t
think you are going to die, and please stop reading such accounts,” Celine
scolded. “Last week you convinced everyone that you were suffering from malaria
and having convulsions when all you were suffering from was a stomach ache
because you ate too much rice pudding. Now, how are your lessons going?”

“Fine.”

Celine
lifted a brow at Gunhilda.

The
governess assured her that Dorothy was behaving admirably.

Celine
frowned. Perhaps the girl was sickening. Dorothy never behaved admirably unless
she was ill or guilty.

She eyed
the healthy, pink cheeked girl with her bright alert eyes and she was willing
to wager her best bonnet that it was the latter emotion making her sister
suffer. Now, if only she could figure out what Dorothy had done.

The rest of
the day was the same as usual. Celine spent the day dealing with domestic
matters and going over household accounts.

She also
sorted out an argument between two chefs and a laundry maid. The two chefs
declared their love for the laundry maid, and the maid in turn declared her
love for the under-footman. The under-footman turned out to be madly and deeply
in love with the dairy maid, who was happily married to the coachman. The two
chefs quit because of broken hearts. The laundry maid and the under-footman
sadly followed.

Things
became slightly difficult for Celine now that Blackthorne had only one chef
remaining. She discussed this matter with the steward as well as the urgent
matter of the stubborn stain on the carpet of the Jade Room.

All in all nothing
out of the ordinary happened all day, and surprisingly she did not see Lord
Elmer either. Perhaps he was no longer interested in helping her? That last
thought made her feel partly relieved and partly disappointed as she made her
way to dinner that evening.

***

She entered
the dining room and found Penelope already sitting at the table. “I thought the
midwife said you have to stay in your room?”

Penelope
grinned, “Yes, Beth the midwife had told me that. Now I have requested Mrs
Fisher, who successfully assisted Lady Gardiner in giving birth to an
unfortunate looking baby last month, to come and attend to me. I trust Mrs
Fisher more than Beth because Beth does not like cats, while Mrs Fisher adores
them.”

“You said
you liked Beth because she smelled like roses and not Nelly, the original
midwife that the dowager had chosen for you, because she had a look in her eye
that was all wrong. You cannot keep changing midwifes, Penny, until you find
one that agrees to let you do as you please,” Celine scolded.

“Mrs Fisher
did not agree to my four pages of reasonable requests. However, she did say
that I could walk from one room to another but not up and down the stairs. So I
have decided to move to one of the rooms on this floor.”

“I see,”
Celine thought for a moment. “Will the Yellow Room do? It is right across from
the dining room?”

Penelope
nodded happily. “Now if only Charles would take me dancing, I would be
satisfied.”

“Charles
will do no such thing,” the duke said walking in and dropping a kiss on
Penelope’s curly head.

Celine
looked away. She still wasn’t used to the way the duke and duchess were so
affectionate in public. It was sweet, a little bit scandalous, and at the same
time it made her feel a touch lonely.

Lord Elmer
entered the room.

Celine
brightened and then frowned. Last evening Lord Elmer had chosen to wear a bushy
red moustache. Today he was wearing a full black one. She was about to remind
him when Sir Henry was carried in by four burly footmen.

Celine
closed her mouth. With a little bit of luck, Sir Henry would fail to notice the
change in their new guest. Thankfully Sir Henry’s eyesight was grainy and his
memory sluggish at best.

The first
course of cold fish soup was served.

After Sir
Henry’s fifth mouthful and no comment on Lord Elmer’s appearance, Celine
started to relax. Her tensed shoulders had just eased into a more comfortable
position when Lord Elmer decided to switch moustaches.

One moment
he had a full black moustache and the next time she looked up it was a black,
wiry wilting one.

There was
no mistaking it.

Lord Elmer
had truly switched moustaches.

She
promptly sprayed soup, bits of fish and bread out of her mouth.

Lord
Elmer’s eyebrow rose in question. Not a smile lurked in his eyes.

She
searched his face and frowned in confusion. Was she wrong? Had it really been a
full black moustache? No one else seemed to have noticed the change. They had,
however, noticed the bread and soup flying out of her mouth.

“I am
sorry, I think I bit into something unpleasant,” she muttered quickly.

“What was
it?” George asked.

“What?”

“The
unpleasant thing that you bit into?” the duke prompted.

“Perhaps a
pepper.”

“Perhaps?”
Sir Henry asked.

“No, it was
a pepper,” Celine replied, her cheeks burning.

Sir Henry
refused to eat any more soup. Peppers frightened him.

The second
course arrived, this one a more grand affair with assorted meats, cheeses and
vegetables.

Celine took
a bite of the peacock pie and almost choked. Lord Elmer now wore a grey
moustache, the sort that curled up at the ends.

There was
no mistaking it. And this time she was certain of the change because the duke
and Penelope were also gaping at Lord Elmer in shock.

The duke’s
expression soon turned furious, while a fascinated Penelope leaned forward in
her seat.

Lord Elmer
continued to eat as if unaware of the interest shown in his moustache.

No one knew
quite what to do in such a situation. The duke could not call him out on it,
for if he did, then Sir Henry would notice the change. And if he noticed the
change, then he would realise that the guest was a wearing a fake moustache.
Once Sir Henry realised what was going on, he would insist on pulling each and
every guest’s moustache to ensure that they were real, and if they were not,
then that guest would no longer be welcome at the mansion.

It was no
wonder that the duke had altogether given up on the food and now sat boring
imaginary holes into the back of Lord Elmer’s head.

Celine
stopped analysing the duke and once more turned towards Lord Elmer. He had
switched moustaches again. This time it was a salt and pepper variety that was
fat at the centre and thin at the edges.

She put her
spoon down and decided to carefully watch him. Her diligence was rewarded when
he pretended to drop a fork and emerged back up wearing a snowy white moustache
and beard.

Penelope
started giggling uncontrollably. Her cheeks were flushed for the first time in
days, and the dullness in her eyes had been replaced by excitement.

Celine was
torn. She was amused but at the same time horrified.

Once again
Lord Elmer dived under the table mumbling something about shoelaces, and by
this time no one was interested in food except for an oblivious Sir Henry.

The servers
arrived to place the desert on the table, and from between the mounds of
colourful jellies, flower scented ices, and delicate cakes Celine’s scandalised
eyes watched a plumed hat appear over the edge of the table.

Penelope
pressed her lips together, her face red and eyes bulging.

The duke
started turning an unflattering shade of puce while the edge of his napkin sat
soaking in a glass of wine.

Penelope,
the duke, Celine, the serving maids and even the stoic Perkins gasped when Lord
Elmer finally emerged from under the table wearing a pirate’s eye patch, plumed
hat, and a multihued feather boa along with an auburn moustache.

He waved
the feather boa at his audience and grinned showing off his two blackened front
teeth.

The room
froze.

Lord Elmer
looked like a cross between an old spinster and a toothless pirate.

Penelope
made a strangled sound and finally lost complete control. She dissolved into
hysterical laughter, until she was sobbing and thanking Lord Elmer for being
the duke’s best second cousin.

After that
dinner was considered well and truly over and everyone at the table realised
that Sir Henry was blinder than he let on. He had not noticed a thing.

“Why did
you do that?” Celine asked the moment Lord Elmer met her in the library.

He did not reply
immediately. He first took a seat and then pulled out a cigar. After clipping
it and lighting it, he took a puff. He spoke softly watching the smoke twist
and curl in the air. “It is a tragic story. It happened when—”

“I was
asking about your little trick with the moustaches. You know the duke is not
too keen on your presence, then why did you take such a risk?” Celine
interrupted.

He frowned,
“I am trying to explain. The story needs to be told with a certain amount of
sensitivity. It is an important story. I am sharing a piece of my life with
you.”

She rolled
her eyes.

“Now,” he
began, “when I was sixteen years old, I had invited some gentlemen friends to
my house.”

“To meet
your crazed stepmother and the drooling dog?”

He ignored
her and continued, “And we had a bit of gin like men of my age are wont to do.
When the brandy was over—”

“You said
you were drinking gin.”

“Yes, we
began with gin and ended up with brandy. A lot came in between. At sixteen it
all tastes the same. Once the brandy was over, we were astonishingly still
awake. We thought we were sober, and most likely we were not, for we
immediately decided to raid my father’s basement for something more to drink.
Now, I was chosen to visit the basement for two reasons. Firstly, no one knew
about my gentlemen friends, since they had arrived for the party by climbing
the oak tree that grew right outside my bedroom window. Secondly, it was my
house and therefore I was the only one who knew the way. It took us awfully
long to figure it all out. Finally I went to rummage in the basement with a
candle. My friends thought it would be funny to lock me in. They did. They
locked me in the dark dungeon with a flickering candle which soon went out.
Then the rats, ghosts and the rats who were now ghosts came out to play. It was
frightening. I decided that night to never be trapped again in my life.”

“How long
were you trapped for?”

“Ten whole
minutes. I made such a racket that the cook woke up and let me out.”

She
scowled, “What has that got to do with what happened at dinner tonight.”

He sprang
out of the chair and knelt in front of her. His eyes blazed as he gripped her
hand and said, “Don’t you understand? Those rats could have slowly and painfully
chewed me to death. I learned the biggest lesson of my life at that tender
young age of sixteen. I learned to live. To live fully and completely. Those
starved, murderous rats taught me to take risks, Amy, risks that have led me on
some strange and wonderful adventures.”

“I don’t—”

“The
duchess, I like her. Her spirits are low and I took that risk to see her smile.
For a moment, at least, she was happy.”

“You are a
very confusing man.”

“Confusing
and wonderful. Have you fallen in love with me yet?”

“Don’t be
absurd. I love—” she stopped, catching the teasing light in his eyes.

“The fat
poet,” he finished for her with a dramatic sigh. “Then let’s get to work and
give you a happy ending. Give me his poems. Perhaps we can get a clue as to his
nature. What he likes and dislikes. It will help broaden our search.”