The Singular Mr. Sinclair

by Marlowe Mia

  “Well! I can certainly see why you feel you owe Mr. Sinclair a great debt.” If she’d had a million guesses, she wouldn’t have come up with that story. She still had more questions about Lawrence than answers, but it was a start. “It’s obvious you won’t tell me the exact nature of the offense that landed you and Rowley in jail, but why was Mr. Sinclair there?”

  “Enough, Caro. You will have to ask him. I’m done with my quota of gossip for the month. Now, if you have nothing more—”

  A smart rap sounded on the study door. Caroline sighed. If not for the interruption, she felt sure she could have wheedled more information out of her brother.

  “Come,” he ordered.

  The door opened to reveal the inept footman Dudley, and, standing slightly behind him, the boy who’d recently stolen Caroline’s purse. The lad doffed his deplorable hat and gawked openmouthed around the room at the myriad books and decorative statuary as if he’d entered a palace. Then he noticed Caroline. His eyes went round as an owl’s when he recognized her, and he took a step back.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, my lord,” Dudley said with a proper bow. “This…person bears a message for you and claims he has instructions from his employer to place it in your hands alone.”

  Lawrence wasn’t the only one who could change personas in a heartbeat. Edward straightened his posture and went from Caroline’s dear brother Teddy to the imperious Lord Bredon between one breath and the next. He motioned for the boy to come forward and took the carefully folded note from him. His gaze swept over the missive quickly.

  “It’s from Sinclair,” he told Caroline. “He thanks me roundly for Lovell House’s hospitality, but it seems he’s found other accommodations.”

  Lord Bredon turned his attention to the footman. “Dudley, according to this letter, you are to pack Mr. Sinclair’s effects and deliver them into this lad’s keeping.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Caroline asked, eyeing the boy with suspicion. If he’d steal her purse, he might be brazen enough to try to steal Lawrence’s belongings by trickery as well. “How do we know the note is genuine?”

  “This is Sinclair’s writing, no doubt.” Teddy flashed the note at her. It was too quick for her to read anything, but the words slanted strangely across the page. “I’d know his cack-handed scrawl anywhere. So, boy, I assume you are in Mr. Sinclair’s employ.”

  The lad nodded gravely and swallowed hard. He obviously couldn’t trust his tongue at the moment.

  Bredon shook his head. “He must see something in you, but frankly, your meager services cannot possibly be sufficient to meet a gentleman’s needs. Therefore, Dudley, you will accompany this young man to Mr. Sinclair’s new residence,” Bredon said to the footman before turning his gaze back to the boy. “Your name, lad, if you please.”

  “It’s B-Billy, your mightiness.”

  “Billy,” Edward repeated, lips twitching as he stifled a smile. Caroline’s brother was m’lorded from morning till night, but to her knowledge, no one had ever dubbed him your mightiness before. “Dudley will go with you to make sure Mr. Sinclair’s effects reach his new abode in good order. You may wait in the hall while Dudley packs, and mind that you keep your hands in your own pockets.”

  “Aye, sir, I mean, your exceedingness, your fulsomeness, your—”

  “Lord Bredon will do.”

  “Aye, Lord Bredon.” Billy executed an awkward bow, then made a great show of shoving his fists into the deep pockets of his jacket as he slipped out the door.

  “Dudley,” Bredon said, turning his attention back to the footman, “did you enjoy serving as Mr. Sinclair’s valet while he was in residence here?”

  The footman-turned-temporary-valet straightened to his full gangly height. “Oh, yes, my lord. Mr. Sinclair is a fine gentleman. A pleasure to be of service to him, I’m sure. I was proud to be his valet.”

  “Good. Then you shall continue in that role.”

  “But, my lord, I don’t…” Dudley said, clearly dismayed. “Does this mean you’re releasing me from service? I’m more than happy to remain a footman here at Lovell House. Please, my lord—”

  “No, no.” Edward raised a hand to silence him. “Rest easy, Dudley. You’re not being given the sack. You’re being…promoted, as it were. Permanently. Nominally, you shall remain on the Lovell House staff, without any diminution in pay, but your duties will be performed elsewhere. Instead of being our footman, you’ll serve as valet to my particular friend, Mr. Sinclair, in his new quarters.”

  “Then I’m to leave Lovell House?”

  “A valet can’t very well serve his master if he’s across town from him, can he?” Edward said. “Mr. Sinclair will no doubt provide a place for you to stay near him. He has a number of engagements coming up and he’ll need someone to assure that he has a sharp turn out for them. Since my friend is heir presumptive to an earldom, I don’t need to tell you what a splendid opportunity this is for you.”

  Dudley was not the sharpest quill in the inkpot, but he was quick enough to realize a servant borrowed his standing in the world below stairs from the rank of those he served. Being valet to a possible future earl was several steps up from answering the front door and dropping silverware down diner’s dresses at Lovell House.

  “So tell me now,” Edward said. “Are you the man for the job?”

  “Oh, yes, my lord,” Dudley said, but Caroline suspected he was about to gnaw through the inside of his cheek. The move was not all positive. Her maid Alice would be inconsolable when she heard about Dudley’s new living arrangements.

  “Good. I shall apprise Mr. Price of your new assignment. You may leave the study door open as you go.”

  “Very good, my lord. Thank you.”

  Once Dudley had gone, Caroline’s shoulders slumped. “Well, it’s official, then. Mr. Sinclair has truly taken his leave of us.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s not the sort to be satisfied to hang on someone else’s sleeve. When we were traveling, Rowley and I had a good deal more credit at our disposal, but Sinclair always insisted on paying his own way.”

  “Still, won’t it be a problem, your sending Dudley off like that?” Caroline said. “Isn’t Mr. Price supposed to be in charge of the staff?”

  “Price will thank me. Truth to tell, he’s been looking for a way to give walking papers to his nephew for weeks, but he feared angering his sister. Price says Dudley is too clumsy to serve at table, and he’s doubtful further training will help.” Teddy shook his head. “I’m sure his services as a valet leave a good deal to be desired, but Sinclair won’t mind. I don’t think he’s had servants of his own since he left Ware Hall.”

  Lawrence had seemed uncomfortable each time he was waited upon by one of the Lovell House staff. “You may be right,” Caroline said.

  “His standards are a good bit lower in that regard, so Dudley will undoubtedly suit him well enough.” Edward stood and stretched his arms wide. “That’s a job well done. I found a way to rid Lovell House of a less-than-ideal footman and since Dudley will be of some use to Sinclair, I can continue to show appreciation to my friend by providing a valet for him. Two birds with one stone and all that.”

  “Yes, you’re very clever, Teddy.” When he looked away, Caroline scooped up the note from Lawrence that her brother had left on the edge of the desk. She was certain there was much more in the letter than he’d shared with her. She slipped it into the bodice of her dress. The gong sounded, signifying that the family had one hour to prepare for their evening meal. “I must be off. See you at supper.”

  Caroline scurried out before her brother had time to notice his note from Lawrence had disappeared. She nearly stumbled over young Billy, who was cooling his heels in the hall.

  “Nice pull, my lady,” the boy said with a grin. “When I peeped round the doorway, I seen you nick that note, slick as snot. Couldn’t a done it better
meself.”

  Caroline’s mouth opened and closed twice, but she couldn’t very well scold the lad over his cheeky attempt at a compliment. Billy was right. She’d just purloined something from her brother as surely as this boy had sliced the laces on her reticule earlier. So she settled for turning on her heel and forcing herself to walk sedately up the stairs to her chamber when everything in her wanted to fly up them.

  Because the dressing gong had sounded, Alice was waiting for her, but Caroline wanted privacy, not primping. “Go at once to Mr. Sinclair’s chamber. He’s moved out and Dudley is packing his things for him. I’d like you to help him.”

  “Right away, my lady,” Alice said with a wink and a breathless smile, jumping at the chance to work alongside her sweetheart. “Oh, but how will you manage without me?”

  “I’ll wear the sprigged muslin this evening.” It was one of the few garments in Caroline’s wardrobe that she could wiggle into by herself. “In a pinch, I can tie up those tabs, and with a good brushing and a fresh ribbon, my hair will be fine. Now, off you go.”

  Alice scurried away, humming to herself. Caroline felt a bit mean, sending her maid off to certain disappointment, but she wasn’t ready to deal with the hysterics that were bound to come. She’d rather Alice heard about Dudley’s supposed promotion and new living situation from him rather than her.

  Besides, she needed Alice out of her chamber. She couldn’t bear to wait another moment to read Lawrence’s letter. She drew it from her bodice and unfolded it carefully. Her hands were surprisingly unsteady. If she were this pent up over a letter the man had written to someone else, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he ever screwed up his courage to write to her.

  My dear Bredon,

  No one has been a better friend to me than you. I’m more grateful than words can convey. The gracious hospitality of Lovell House has been far beyond what I deserve. I shall convey my thanks to the earl and his countess in a separate missive, but I wanted you to know the real reason I must remove myself from your family’s home. I owe you that much.

  It is because of your sister.

  I love her.

  There it was. Ungilded. Direct. True.

  Plenty of gentlemen had offered Caroline flowery words and grandiose protestations. One had even composed the most dreadful verse of more than one hundred couplets praising, of all things, the slight upturn of her nose! But none of her previous suitors’ words had reached anywhere near her heart. Lawrence’s simple confession went straight to her soul.

  “He loves me,” she whispered. Caroline sank onto the foot of her bed because her knees would no longer support her weight. She felt warm all of a sudden, glowing as if a candle had been lit inside her.

  The fault is not hers, she read on. Lady Caroline has not encouraged me.

  “Oh really? You didn’t find my meeting you in the dead of night for a waltz lesson encouraging? Honestly, men are so stupid sometimes.”

  She shook her head at his foolishness, feeling both tender and giddy about him at the same time. She didn’t understand the strange mix of emotions swirling inside her. It was as if her stays had been too tightly laced. She couldn’t make sense of her sudden urge to dance and laugh and weep all at the same time.

  Only that it was so.

  I understand that my attachment to Lady Caroline may cause awkwardness between us. I would not put you in that difficult position. My prospects alone make me an inadequate suitor for your sister’s hand, and I will not insult her with less than she deserves.

  “Perhaps you might let me be the judge of whether you are adequate, Mr. Sinclair,” she said, wishing he were standing before her right then so she could scold him properly for thinking so poorly of himself.

  But even laying that aside, you, of all people, know why I will not shackle Lady Caroline to one such as myself.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.” If this self-flagellation was about the incident in the Italian jail, she knew all about it now and felt more warmly toward him than ever. After all, he’d saved her dear Teddy from heaven knew what horrific end.

  She turned back to the note.

  I pray God to grant that she find someone respectable and worthy, who will love her as deeply as I.

  “Oh, pish! Doesn’t he imagine I might have something to say about this?” She’d started reading with a flutter in her chest and hope in her heart. Now she was angry.

  What was wrong with the man? What good did it do for him to explain himself to her brother? Didn’t he know that if she failed to buckle under pressure to conform from her parents, she certainly wasn’t the sort to be managed by her male relatives?

  When she heard the longcase clock chime the half hour, Caroline refolded the note and hid it in her diary before she began to dress herself for dinner.

  “If the man has something to say about me, he’d better say it to me,” she muttered as she struggled out of her morning dress and into the sprigged muslin for evening. Yes indeed. Lawrence Sinclair owed it to her to speak his heart plainly and let her choose what to do about it.

  This was far too important a decision to leave solely in a man’s keeping. Lawrence couldn’t make it without her. And Teddy certainly could not.

  She’d see to it that Lawrence made his declaration.

  And there’d be no better time or place for it than at Lord Frampton’s ball.

  Chapter 15

  Women are always counseled to keep quiet and let men do the talking. This might be good advice under some circumstances. One can learn a great deal by allowing someone else to fill an uncomfortable silence. However, this strategy is woefully inadequate for dealing with the likes of Lawrence Sinclair. I swear, silence is his native state.

  —from the diary of Lady Caroline Lovell

  Lord and Lady Frampton’s home in Mayfair was not quite as grand as Lovell House. Caroline remembered from last Season that there was no dedicated entertaining space on their topmost story. Instead, the drawing room on the ground floor was transformed into a ballroom. All the furniture was removed, except for chairs and settees, which were pushed to the perimeter of the space to provide seating for those who did not dance but wished to watch those who did.

  Lady Frampton’s parlor was pressed into service as a card room for those who preferred games over “tripping the light fantastic toe.” The spacious dining room was already being prepared for the upcoming midnight supper, and no doubt a first-story parlor had been transformed into a ladies’ retiring room.

  Upon arriving, Caroline planned to seek out that room. Anything to escape the watchful eye of her parents. She wished she could have accompanied her brothers later, when they came in the Chatham carriage’s second trip. The Lovell boys always made for a jolly party. But Lady Chatham had insisted Caroline ride with her and Lord Chatham. This arrangement made it easier for Caroline’s mother to pepper her with advice the whole time they bounced over the cobbles.

  “Your posture has been sadly lacking of late. Stand up straight, but don’t square your shoulders. A lady’s should be delicately rounded.”

  “Yes, Mother.” I wonder what she’d have to say about my posture if I decided to stand on my head in the middle of the dance floor?

  “Don’t meet anyone’s gaze too boldly, but don’t be unapproachable either.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Honestly, walking a tightrope would be easier than this narrow path.

  “Be sure to greet everyone. The last thing you should do is disappear into a corner with those simpering friends of yours.”

  “I happen to like my simpering friends.” And by the way, only I am allowed to call them simpering.

  “Your loyalty does you credit, but gossiping in the corner is never attractive.”

  “We don’t gossip.” Not all the time.

  “The pool of eligible gentlemen is a bit slim this year. You need to show yourself to best advantage.�
��

  The rebellious thoughts that had been running through Caroline’s head finally found their way out of her mouth. “Perhaps we ought to take out an advertisement in the Times listing my sterling qualities.”

  “Caroline,” her father said gruffly. He seldom reproved her, so his tone was enough to leave her thoroughly chastised.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  “Don’t be sorry,” her mother said. “Do better. This is likely your last Season, you know.”

  God be praised nearly sprang from her lips, but she was certain her father would recognize her pious outburst for the mutinous exclamation it was. So she merely nodded, grateful the carriage finally rolled to a stop before Lord and Lady Frampton’s town house.

  Once inside, her mother couldn’t resist one last bit of instruction.

  “The more time an unattached lady has to see and be seen before the festivities begin, the more likely her dance card will be full,” her mother explained as the footman took their wraps at the door. The footman handed her a gilded dance card with her name at the top and the order of dances to be performed listed in ornate script.

  “There seem to be no partners penciled in on my card,” she told her mother.

  “Ah! That’s Lady Frampton for you. She prefers to allow the assembly to sort itself out instead of having partners preselected. She’s always been a bit eccentric,” her mother said, clearly wishing their hostess had left less to chance. “That’s why we made sure you arrived before your brothers, you see. This way there’s ample time for gentlemen to request a dance before the festivities begin.”

  “Indeed, Mother,” Caroline said, softly enough that her father couldn’t hear. “The bird that hangs most prominently in the butcher’s window is always the first to be sold.”