Archer watched until the carriage turned the corner. The first part of his new plan was in place, and grinning helplessly, he returned to his study to distract himself with the daily correspondence.
On top of the pile was an envelope bearing the Kingsclere crest. Expecting to feel an unwanted wave of trepidation swamp him, he was pleased to feel nothing, even though he knew the letter would not be pleasant to read. By the time he had finished, he was laughing at the earl’s bluster, imaging his face swelling like a balloon, and burning with anger when he learnt of Archer’s moves against him. “Apart from your poaching of my men, The House of Lords will not stand for such liberalism,” the earl’s words screamed. “Your namby-pambies might have quashed my amendment this time, but know this, Clearwater, I shall have it reintroduced at the earliest possibility. Meanwhile, a servant is a gentleman’s possession, and as such, can be discarded when of no more use to a man, but to steal one’s property…” Archer ripped it up and threw the pieces in the grate.
The morning took forever to pass, and he spent much of it at the window looking for Silas and James, in case they returned earlier than expected. One o’clock was the appointed hour, and at a quarter to, when the grandfather clock in the drawing room chimed with its usual lethargy, he could wait no longer. Taking only his fountain pen, he hurried to the dining room. His excitement mounted when Mrs Norwood popped her head into the room and cheerfully announced that everything below stairs was prepared.
‘How are they?’
‘More than a little surprised, My Lord. Jake is taking measurements right now.’
‘Perfect. I’ll see them later, and thank you for your help.’
‘Don’t thank me, Sir. I am as delighted as they are.’
The front door slammed, and voices rang out in the hall.
‘Mr Wright is back,’ Archer said, his anticipation mounting. ‘Will you send Mr Andrej when he has put away the trap? I assume he knows what’s afoot?’
‘He will when he enters the kitchen, Sir. I haven’t mentioned the coach house.’
‘Excellent. I’ll ring for you when the time is right.’
‘Very good, My Lord.’
Archer took his usual seat at the head of the dining table, but it didn’t feel right. This was not a formal dinner, it was a meeting with his crew in the mess, and he moved to the centre. Placing his pen before him, he waited as patiently as his enthusiasm would allow. What was about to happen depended on one word, yes, and despite Thomas’ assurance that he would hear it, Archer would only be convinced once the word was out of James’ mouth.
Thomas arrived and announced Mr Hawkins and Mr Wright as though they were dinner guests before standing aside and allowing them to enter. The scrapes on James’ face had healed, and Silas’ arm was no longer in a sling.
‘Mr Wright,’ Archer said, standing. ‘Silas. How did you get on? Did Markland work his magic?’
‘All good,’ Silas said, swinging his arm. ‘He’s coming to see you tonight.’
‘I know. Sit, please. And you, Tom.’
Thomas coughed in the way Tripp had done when Archer said something inappropriate.
‘I would rather stand,’ he said, taking up his accustomed stance at the sideboard.
Thomas had reminded him that they were meeting to discuss business, and Archer adopted what he had come to call his viscount’s voice, leaving friendship aside for the time being.
‘Silas there, Mr Wright opposite me if you would. You have the delivery from Marks?’
‘I do, My Lord.’ James slid a large envelope across the table.
Fecker arrived from below stairs, bringing with him a dazed look, and white-toothed grin.
‘Have a seat, Mr Andrej,’ Archer invited him to the head of the table where he would have more room to spread his arms. ‘Luncheon will be served in due course.’
‘Are we to know what this is about?’ James asked, his brow furrowing. ‘I have your suit to clean, and the...’
‘In time, Mr Wright. I shall be as succinct as possible.’ Turning to Thomas, he said, ‘Payne, perhaps we could have a sherry before lunch.’
Thomas obeyed silently, circling the table with the decanter and filling glasses, and when he returned to his station, Archer began.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, picking up his pen and fiddling with it. ‘I have been keeping some secrets from you these past weeks, and this has nothing to do with our business at the mine. Our physical injuries are healed. Although we may still be troubled by the memory, we must do all we can to put it aside, and to help us, I have decided we are to see changes at Clearwater House.’
James fixed his stare on Archer, his face set with concern, and Silas’ raised his eyebrows questioningly.
‘Some in the house know of these changes,’ Archer said. ‘I apologise for keeping the others in the dark, but all will be explained presently.’
Opening the envelope from Marks, he squinted at the first page, disappointed at the handwriting.
‘Here.’ Silas slid a leather purse across the table. ‘Present from Markland. He’ll bring others in case these don’t work.’
‘What’s this?’ Archer asked as he took the gift.
‘Open it.’
Archer did, and found inside a pair of small, round spectacles with steel arms tipped with mother of pearl.
‘Put them on,’ Silas encouraged, and when he did, Marks’ handwriting came into focus.
‘Good Lord,’ Archer exclaimed. ‘I didn’t think I was old enough for this sort of thing.’
‘You look very dashing,’ Silas smirked. ‘I always fancied a man in spectacles.’
Thomas coughed pointedly to remind Mr Hawkins they were in the dining room, and Archer focused on the document. ‘As I was saying before this welcome distraction, there are to be changes, and these papers…’
The men waited while he read the text, and finding it just as Marks had promised, set the papers to one side.
‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘But before I get to it, let me ask you a question. What is it that we five have? Between us, I mean, and I don’t mean our friendship. That is taken as read. What else do we have?’
When none of them answered, he explained.
‘We have resources and talents.’ He received the same blank looks. ‘We have proved we are a strong team. Mr Andrej has physical strength, and is a magician with horses. Mr Wright has his enquiring mind, and his knowledge of codes, messages and communications. When a lock needs picking, a house entering or a man impersonating, then Mr Hawkins is the one. We make a diverse team, you see?’
‘Not entirely,’ James said, as the scepticism in his voice matched that of Thomas’, when Archer originally told him of his intentions. ‘What about you?’
‘Me? Well, I don’t like to dwell on it, but I suppose what I bring to the crew are finances and contacts.’
‘And Tom?’
‘Mr Payne keeps everything in a logical order. He makes sure we don’t overstep the mark, and is also rather handy with all things W.’
‘Er…? Explain?’ Silas queried.
‘Wine, welfare and weapons.’ Archer smiled at his butler. ‘Outside of the house, we have men and women we can call on. Jake when we need costume and theatrics, and Lady Marshall when we need information about anything from Her Majesty’s fleet, to who is being presented at this season’s coming-out ball. Further afield, we have the rather scatter-brained medical expertise of Doctor Markland, and the legal mind of Mr Marks. Even the barrister, Creswell, is amiable when called upon. I could mention Lord Tennyson, Stoker and James’ other unlikely connections, but I think you take my point. Yes?’
‘No.’ James shook his head. ‘I understand what you’re saying, but not why you are saying it.’
‘You see? The enquiring mind of an investig
ator,’ Archer chuckled. ‘Which brings me neatly onto this.’ Turning the document, he pushed it towards James. ‘This is my idea,’ he said. ‘A new venture. A company run by committee, with you, Mr Wright, taking the position of managing director. Silas, Tom, Andrej and I will make up the board.’
James’ mouth fell open as he and Silas read the document.
‘The company will start up with a loan from the estate which will need to be paid back within five years. It’s all there, including the name of the company, The Wright Detective Agency. I had suggested The Wright-Payne Detective Agency as its title, until Tom pointed out a vernacular interpretation, and we shortened it. Much better, don’t you think, Jimmy?’
‘But who would valet you?’ James asked, turning to page two, his translucent eyebrows flickering.
‘We will come to that,’ Archer replied. ‘Meanwhile, what you have there is your own business. You will become a private investigator, but don’t worry, you will continue on your current wages until such time as the agency makes enough, then we will switch. The same applies to all of you.’
‘You mean Tommy’s not going to be your butler?’ Silas was as confused as James.
‘Mr Payne?’
‘Thank you, Sir.’ Thomas stepped forward to speak over James’ shoulder. ‘His Lordship and I have discussed this,’ he said. ‘And I have agreed to sign. I will, however, continue to work as His Lordship’s butler, but will involve myself in the business as and when needed.’
‘I thought the same for you, Silas,’ Archer added. ‘You and Jimmy run the thing, but you also continue at the Mission as that’s your passion. What I won’t need, however, is valeting, not by a man of business, Mr Wright.’
James looked up from the document. ‘But…?’
‘No.’ Archer knew what he was going to say. ‘You continue to live here. I am changing what my father used to call the ladies’ corridor. My mother no longer wishes to use the rooms, and if she is in town, then Lady Marshall will be her host. Thus, the suite will become yours and Tom’s.’
‘That’s a bit bold, isn’t it?’ Silas asked, shocked. ‘Your butler on the first floor. What if we have guests?’
‘The joy of the ladies’ suite,’ Archer grinned, ‘is that it connects directly with the top floor to allow maids unseen access. Tom can come and go as he pleases, as you and I do between our rooms, and can use the top floor when he needs to. We have the other suite for guests. So, if you are in agreement, all I need are your signatures, and we can move on to other matters.’
‘I’m up for it,’ Silas said, and glancing at Fecker, asked him if he understood what was taking place.
‘Da,’ Fecker said. ‘I do what Geroy wants.’
‘Likewise,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s up to you, Mr Wright.’
Archer waited with mounting excitement as James turned pages, his expression impassive. There was no way of knowing how such a business would run, or what it would entail, let alone whether anyone would use it, but he wasn’t concerned for his investment. The pleasure of legitimately raising his crew to the level of gentlemen, whether they wore a butler’s uniform or not, was enough to bring him happiness. All he needed was for James to say yes.
James slid the paper back to him, and said, ‘No.’
‘No?’ Archer was dumbfounded. ‘Why on earth not? You would have your own rooms to share with Tom, a better income, a better way of life, and in time, should you ever want to, enough money to buy your own home. You would no longer be a servant, but a man of means. All of you.’
‘No,’ James repeated, and folded his arms defiantly. Fixing Archer with his thoughtful, hazel eyes, he said, ‘Don’t get me wrong, Sir, I am incredibly touched by the gesture, not to mention flattered, but as it stands, I cannot agree.’
‘Why, man?’ Annoyance rose within Archer, and if left unchecked, would quickly become anger. ‘I thought we could adapt the library for your use, perhaps put in a door between it and my study for ease. Clients can be drawn from all levels of society, using the front of the house when appropriate, or the back entrance for anonymity. I don’t see any flaws with this offer, so please, explain yourself.’
‘It’s a good idea,’ James said, keeping his cool. ‘And I take your point about how the house can best be used. The proposition is sound, but for one thing.’
‘Which is?’
Archer couldn’t think of anything he had overlooked, but holding his valet’s determined stare, suddenly realised James was negotiating, and his annoyance turned to admiration. This was, after all, a business transaction.
‘The title, Sir,’ James said. ‘I am more than happy with your other arrangements, but not the title of the proposed endeavour.’
‘Bit cheeky for a messenger boy,’ Silas muttered as he took back the papers and borrowed Archer’s pen.
‘Which is exactly the attitude needed,’ Archer said. ‘But what’s wrong with the title?’
‘If you want me to be a part of this, then you must allow me to change the name of the company.’
‘To what, Mr Wright? What could be better than your own company under your own name?’
‘To call it something else,’ James shrugged. ‘Will you trust me to cross out the title and replace it? I assume the document would still be legally binding if we initial the changes.’
They continued to hold each other’s gaze, neither willing to back down. Archer’s only other option was to scrap the idea, and he was not prepared to do that. What was more, James knew. The messenger boy turned footman turned valet, had him over a barrel, proving his suitability beyond doubt, and Archer could not have held the man in higher regard.
‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘Call it what you will as long as you sign. I trust you to make the right decision.’
James nodded, unfolded his arms, and took the pen from Silas. Crossing through the title, he replaced it with something else, initialled the changes, and had Silas do the same. That done, he signed the pages and passed them to Fecker, who, once he had signed, passed them to Thomas.
‘Tom, would you ring for Mrs Norwood?’
‘If you call me by my title,’ Thomas complained, making Silas laugh.
‘Apologies. Ring for the housekeeper, would you, Payne?’
‘Certainly, My Lord.’ Thomas tugged the bell-pull beside the fireplace.
‘There,’ James said, sliding the completed document back to Archer. ‘You can now go ahead and incorporate the new company. The Clearwater Detective Agency.’
Unable to hold back any longer, James’ face broke into a smile, which only increased when Silas threw his arms around his shoulders and ruffled his hair.
‘Right proper gent you are now, Jimmy, lad,’ he laughed. ‘You too, Fecks, who’d have thought it?’
‘Me,’ Fecker said with a shrug. ‘Geroy isn’t nobleman, he is noble man. We eat?’
‘Shortly, Andrej,’ Archer replied, and standing, shook hands with each of his comrades as gentlemen. ‘Finally, this man has it all, Payne,’ he said, aware that despite his new spectacles, his vision was still slightly blurred.
‘Indeed, Sir.’ Thomas passed him a handkerchief to wipe his eyes.
‘Right!’ The congratulations done, Archer pulled himself together. ‘For now, we must return to our current roles as I explain more changes.’
‘There’s more?’
‘Yes, Jimmy. There must be. We can’t expect Mrs Norwood and Payne to run this house alone, not as I am now one valet short, and we have had no footman or cook for some time. A viscount’s outward respectability must be maintained. Thus, Mrs Norwood is to continue as our permanent housekeeper, although, like us, she has another life and will still teach her Sunday school. You, yourself, Jimmy, confided that she understands our… playacting and our need for confidentiality. To assist her below stairs, Payne a
nd I have…’ Interrupted by a knock at the servant’s door, he broke off and called, ‘Come in.’
Mrs Norwood appeared alone.
‘You rang, My Lord?’
‘Yes. Our other business is successfully concluded,’ Archer said. ‘Would you bring them in as arranged?’
Mrs Norwood bowed her head. ‘They are here in the servery, Sir,’ she said, turning to the door. ‘You can come in now.’
Archer watched Fecker’s face, keen to see his reaction as Lucy stepped into the room.
‘Ah, Lucy, hello,’ he said, standing, his heart swelling as Fecker beamed.
Lucy curtsied. A year younger than Fecker, the two had bonded as soon as Fecker came to the house. For some, to encourage relationships between the staff would be frowned upon, but Silas had kept Archer informed. Fecker had been a perfect gentleman, and although the pair were clearly in love, had refused to take their relationship beyond what Silas called ‘heavy petting.’
Fecker’s face flushed red to match the maid’s, and Archer was sure he saw a tear in the man’s eye.
‘On Mrs Flintwich’s recommendation, Lucy has been promoted from first maid to cook,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Flintwich is staying at Larkspur to care for my mother with Mrs Baker. I understand you were keen to be back in the city, Lucy?’
‘I am, My Lord, and I am very grateful.’
‘Don’t thank me, it was Payne’s idea. Correct me if I am wrong, Payne, but as cook, Lucy is entitled to live off the premises. Correct?’
‘Correct, My Lord, but even though she is unmarried, her new station demands she be addressed as Mrs Roberts.’
‘My apologies, Mrs Roberts, but surely a maid’s garret is not suitable accommodation for a cook, Payne. What to do?’
‘Quite, Sir. I thought the spare quarters above the coach house might be more suitable. That is, if Mr Andrej is willing to share the mews?’
Fecker looked at the butler with dewy eyes and swallowed, before turning his back to examine his fingernails and nod.
Artful Deception (The Clearwater Mysteries Book 6) Page 32