“Oh, I see,” said Jane. “That does make quite a bit of sense.”
Letty shot her a disbelieving look.
Hildebert beamed, and the assembly decamped downstairs to inspect the new supplies.
Chapter 8
Clement, Midgley, Hildebert and Hugo directed the unloading of the wagon, while Jane and Letty observed from an upstairs window, and only Hugo and one of the footmen actually did any work.
“Here, now,” said Midgley, striding forward with all the confidence of a very grand butler, “let’s do this all sensibly, shall we? We ought to unload the heavy things first.”
“Oh!” said Hildebert, not paying attention to Midgley as he scampered up to the wagon and began taking things out of their parcels and inspecting them with expressions of rapture, and then setting the items down haphazardly. Clement followed him, putting each item back in its place or as near to it as he could manage.
Hugo picked up a crate, handed it off to the footman, and pointed toward the workshop. The footman strode off. Hugo picked up a second crate and followed him.
“Good, good,” said Midgley, nodding. “Those looked like the heavy ones.”
Hildebert’s transports of joy continued as he inspected the contents of the crates. Clement had a growing pile of items that he was no longer sure where they ought to go.
“Do you want to oversee the unpacking efforts?” Clement suggested, making a teetering little pile of unknown scientific paraphernalia on one corner of the wagon. “To make certain that everything is placed in your workshop the way you would want?”
“Oh, yes,” Hildebert said, eyes widening as he looked off in the direction of the workshop, no doubt imagining scenarios of his servants unsupervised and placing the stuff of science in any available pig trough. “I shall do so at once.”
When Hugo and the footman returned to gather a second load, Hildebert trotted after them, chattering all the way about the proper care and storage of scientific material. Clement suspected that much of it was made up.
The wagon driver remained upon his seat, watching this all unfold with a grimace.
Leaving the wagon under the supervision of Midgley, Clement took along as many of the displaced items as he could safely carry and followed after the others.
“Set that crate along there,” Hugo ordered, as they entered the workshop, directing the footman as to where they might place their loads. “That way my lord can access everything within the crates until they are all unpacked and placed in the appropriate locations within the workshop.”
“Oh, very good, very good,” said Hildebert, nodding his approval and looking over the arrangement of the crates as though he were an artist conducting a composition. “Just so.”
“Go and fetch the next crate,” Hugo said to the footman, who went. “Sir,” said Hugo, drawing Hildebert’s attention to the empty shelves and trunks that had been placed in the workshop for Hildebert’s use. “Shall we unpack these beakers onto the shelves there? I am certain that would be the safest place for such delicate glass. I have checked the steadiness of all the shelves, and those are the most secure.”
“Very good, very good,” Hildebert said again.
Hugo took up two of the beakers from their crate, inspecting each of them and then handing them to Hildebert. As Hildebert mimicked the inspection, Hugo took up another two beakers, checked them, and went to set them on the shelf.
Hildebert was left holding the beakers. He was visibly perplexed as to what he should do with them.
Hugo came back, took up a large glass sphere, and went to set it on the shelf.
Still holding the beakers, Hildebert made a tentative movement toward the crate as if to put them back. Thinking the better of this, he redirected his movement toward the shelf and set them in an available space.
When he trotted back over to Hugo, by the crate, Hugo put another set of beakers into his hand.
Perplexed anew, Hildebert gaped at him for a moment, and then set about the very important business of inspecting the beakers with his expert inventor’s eye. When he had inspected them to his satisfaction, he went and set them on the shelf.
Within a minute, he was taking items from the crate himself and putting them on shelves.
Clement watched all of this with jaw agape.
Hugo and Hildebert continued unloading the crates and finding places to put the new scientific materials, while the footman brought in new crates. By the second new crate he’d brought in, Hugo and Hildebert had emptied the crate that they’d started on, and Hugo sent it back out.
Attempting to make himself useful, Clement started unloading another of the crates, but wherever he put something, Hildebert found fault with it.
“Not there, Clement,” he fussed, taking up the metal contraption which Clement had just set down and relocating it across the room. “It simply can’t be helped, Clement. I know you have the best of intentions, but you’re just not a scientist.”
Apparently Hugo, who continued to unload crates with more authority than supervision, was.
After several more aborted attempts to unload or advise, Clement gave up and left them to it.
He fetched a tray of refreshments, and was scolded at for putting it down in the way, on an empty table which was evidently crucial to their continued unpacking efforts. Hugo found a different empty table to set it on, after which Hildebert accepted the refreshments with enthusiastic cheer, and set to while Hugo arranged his workshop around him.
Clement bristled with indignation at this displacement, and went back inside to see to his duties.
“Clement?”
It was late afternoon when Hildebert’s voice floated up from the front entryway. He sounded slightly lost, as though he had walked into someone else’s house.
Setting down the book he’d picked up to read in Hildebert’s neglected study, Clement yawned and followed after the sound of his master’s voice.
“Clement, where are you?” Hildebert repeated. “I’m bleeding.”
That got Clement’s pace to quicken. He trotted down the steps, heart pounding with worry over his employer’s injury. “Bleeding!” Clement said. “Why are you bleeding? What the devil happened?”
It turned out to be a cut on his hand. Clement took him by the wrist and led him into the kitchen, forcing himself not to squirm at the drops of blood Hildebert was leaving on the floor and on his trousers.
“It was ever so clumsy of me,” said Hildebert, docile as a kitten while Clement led him about. “I’m afraid I broke one of those glass bottle things… what was it that Mr. Ogden called them?”
“Beakers,” Clement said, cleaning the blood from his hand with a wet cloth. “They are called beakers.”
“Oh, yes,” said Hildebert. “He is ever so knowledgeable about these things.”
Clement’s jaw tensed with irritation. He’d spent the past two weeks learning about engine construction and the chemistry of combustion, but somehow it was Hugo, the stable groom, who had become the expert.
“And where was Hugo when this incident happened?” Clement asked.
“Oh, I had sent him away,” said Hildebert. “I do now think that was quite foolish of me. He would make for an excellent assistant, don’t you think? Why, he’s quite a natural at the way of it. Perhaps, were he of better birth, he would have made for an excellent gentleman scientist!”
Clement did not think that Hugo had shown any particular aptitude for science, aside from the unloading of glass beakers. He did, however, think that Hugo would make a particularly comely gentleman. Keeping this to himself, he focused on the task of bandaging Hildebert’s hand.
The date of the garden party was set at last.
Clement was glad for this, as it would after all this time provide some decent socialisation for Hildebert and Jane. In addition, it would go some way toward announcing their arrival in the local society, which would significantly increase their invitations and hopefully decrease the amount of time that Mr. and Mrs. Dev
ereux had for socialising with their servants and handling dangerous scientific materials.
Chairs and tables were selected, cushions were fluffed, fabrics were freshened and mended. Jane, despite her frivolity when it came to socialising with servants, had an excellent head for planning, and she was helped greatly by Mrs. Ledford’s capable oversight of the household.
Clement did his best to keep out of the way as Jane, Letty, and Mrs. Ledford ran circles around each other. Jane would decide upon what she wanted, and communicate as much to Mrs. Ledford, who would set it into action. After that, Letty would come up with some new idea or modification, which Jane would approve, and then Letty would implement it without consulting Mrs. Ledford.
“She’s doing everything wrong,” Letty complained, too loudly.
Clement steered her into a side room, where she could complain to her heart’s content with a lower risk of being overheard.
“Letty,” said Clement. He had spent the last hour watching Letty and Mrs. Ledford get in each other’s way over some matter of cushions that were meant to be placed on the garden chairs. After the third time of being snapped at for offering some suggestion, Clement just stayed out of the way and did his best to follow the conflicting instructions from the various authorities of the household. “You might try cooperating with her.”
Letty glowered at him as though this suggestion was a personal betrayal. “She might try cooperating with me!”
“She’s the housekeeper,” Clement said.
“She’s doing everything wrong!”
“She’s…” Clement sighed, returning her scowl. “Letty.”
“Don’t ‘Letty’ me.”
“Letitia.”
“Nor that!” Letty smacked him with the floral cushion she was holding. “She is awful, Clement, and I despise her.”
“I would not be surprised to hear she thinks the same of you,” Clement said.
Letty’s glare sharpened.
“Letty,” Clement said again.
“No.” Letty pushed the cushion into Clement’s arms. “She needs to stay out of my way and mind her own responsibilities. I am helping Jane to arrange this party. She is only a housekeeper.”
Clement sorely wanted to point out that Letty was only a maid, but she had walked out of the room.
While Jane and Letty oversaw their preparations for the party, Hildebert was usually to be found in his new workshop. And whenever Hugo was not otherwise engaged with his work as a stable groom, he was to be found at Hildebert’s side.
Clement walked into the workshop to find them side by side in discussion of a scientific diagram. His heart gave an unhappy lurch.
“Clement!” said Hildebert. “Here you are. Look at what we are making.”
Clement regarded the project under construction, which looked like a pile of grease-streaked bronze pipes and gears, and then regarded the blueprint they were using, which looked like a deconstructed mechanical device of no functional purpose whatsoever.
Hildebert was beaming proudly at him, while Hugo’s expression was a confusing mixture of friendliness and regret.
“What is it?” Clement asked.
“It’s an engine!”
“Oh,” said Clement. “I see. What does it do?”
“It…” said Hildebert. “Well, it…” He cast a supplicating look toward Hugo. “It engines.”
“Ah,” said Clement. “I don’t know how I can have failed to ascertain that.”
Hugo bit down on one side of his lip.
“Sir,” said Clement, “I’ve come to fetch you. Your supper and your lady wife await.”
“Is it supper time already?” Hildebert exclaimed. “Then I suppose I ought to finish all this later. Come along, Clement. We don’t want to keep Jane waiting.”
Leaving his tools in disarray, Hildebert headed out the door.
Clement hesitated, looking back at Hugo. He wanted to exchange some words with him, but there was no time. Hildebert would require his services in dressing for dinner, and Clement didn’t know, after all, what he wished to say.
“Good evening,” Clement said, softly, and then followed after Hildebert out the door.
Chapter 9
The day of the garden party dawned bright and clear, and Clement was run off his feet from the moment he rose.
There were chairs to place, linens to spread, napkins to fold, Hildebert to dress, and dozens of minuscule tasks which all required his personal attention.
“That awful woman!” Letty exclaimed, as Clement walked into the garden to check that the table linens had been pressed to his satisfaction.
He glanced about, but saw Mrs. Ledford nowhere in sight.
Letty was gripping one of the delicate china plates in a high fury.
“Letty?” Clement asked. “Whatever is the trouble?”
“Jane specifically desired to use the pink china plates,” Letty said. “These are the gold. She has done this on purpose. She’s a…”
“Letty,” Clement said, taking the gold plate from her hands. “I’ll see to it. Go and dress Mrs. Devereux early, and put her in the front parlour so she may greet the guests. They may arrive earlier than is London custom, and it would be best if she were to greet them.”
Letty hesitated, eyes narrowed.
“I’ll see to it, Letty. Go.”
Not waiting to see if she obeyed, Clement took the gold plate and headed for the kitchens.
There were twice the usual amount of servants in the kitchen, several of whom Clement didn’t recognise. He supposed that Mrs. Ledford must have hired in some of the locals from the village to serve as staff for the event.
He wove his way through the kitchen, striving to stay out of the way of the cooks busy chopping and stirring as they prepared the delicate refreshments which would be served at the party.
Mrs. Ledford was near the back of the room, at the top of the steps which led to the cellar, as she ordered and conducted the army of servants bustling in and out.
“Mrs. Ledford,” Clement said, approaching her.
She looked at him, then down to the plate, and her eyes narrowed.
“Forgive my confusion,” Clement said, standing a little straighter under Mrs. Ledford’s irritated scrutiny. “I am certain I have misremembered, but I wished to consult with you, so as to ensure that everything is perfect. I had thought that Mrs. Devereux wished to use the pink plates, which would better complement the table linens.”
“She had,” Mrs. Ledford said. She took the plate from Clement, and marched swiftly over to a cupboard where she retrieved one of the pink plates in question. “But the original intent had been to use the gold, and Mrs. Devereux had already decided upon the menu before she was reminded of the pink plates. As I have explained to Mrs. Devereux…”
Striding over to a bubbling pot of pea-green soup, Mrs. Ledford held the pink plate over it. The juxtaposition of those particular colours was nauseating. Clement would never have let Hildebert out of the house in such a combination.
“Ah,” said Clement.
Mrs. Ledford handed the gold plate back to him. “The refreshments are themed pink and green, for the most part. They are designed to be displayed upon the gold plates. The pink ones would clash.”
“I understand completely,” Clement said, impressed by her competence and embarrassed to have questioned it. “Forgive me for my confusion, Mrs. Ledford. I see you have everything in hand.”
Nodding his head to her, he took the plate back to where it belonged.
“Who is it?” Letty called, when he knocked at the door to Mrs. Devereux’s chambers.
“Clement. About the plates.”
“Good! Come in.”
He pushed the door open without a thought, only to find that Mrs. Devereux was behind her dressing-screen while Letty bustled back and forth fetching articles of clothing.
“Heavens preserve me,” Clement muttered, averting his eyes.
“What did you find out about the plates?” Jane called,
apparently unconcerned about his presence in her rooms.
Cheeks heated, Clement cleared his throat and tried to think of a polite way to extract himself from the situation. “It seems that you had designed the menu to be colours of pink and green which would go best with the gold plates. The pink ones would clash.”
“The pink ones are prettier,” Letty said.
“Oh, I do recall something about that,” Jane said. A naked arm extended from behind the screen, snatching up some article of clothing and retreating it.
Clement focused intently upon the pattern of the rug. “I confess that I agree with Mrs. Ledford. The gold plates are correct for the occasion.”
“Clement!” Letty exclaimed, in tones of betrayal.
“I’ve seen the colours. The meal would look unappetising upon the pink.”
“I understand," Jane said. "The gold will do. Thank you, Clement.”
Letty glared at him until he left.
When he went to get Hildebert dressed for the party, his employer was nowhere to be found. Clement checked the bedroom, the parlours, the sunroom, and even Hildebert’s study before it occurred to him that Hildebert would have gone—party or no—to the workshop.
Tightening his jaw in order to contain a groan of frustration, Clement trotted swiftly across the gardens to the workshop, where Hildebert was up to his elbows in some contraption. Clement’s irritation rose when he saw Hugo at his side, who had in no way managed to remind Hildebert that he had a party to attend.
“Sir,” said Clement, with a sharp glance of reprimand for Hugo. “You need to dress for the party.”
“The party?” Hildebert said. “Oh, there’s time yet. I want to get this finished, Clement.”
“Sir, your guests will begin arriving shortly,” Clement beseeched him.
“I know!” said Hildebert. “And I want to show them my invention!”
Clement bit his tongue on another groan. “Sir. It is a garden party, perhaps you shouldn’t…”
The Valet and the Stable Groom Page 10