The Valet and the Stable Groom

by Katherine Marlowe

  “Sir?” Clement asked, clearing his throat and approaching the selected costume with trepidation. “Is there some occasion today you wished to attend?”

  “No occasion, Clement, don’t be foolish. I’m simply eager to see to the horses!”

  “See to the horses,” Clement repeated, uncomprehending.

  “Yes, to be sure. You will recall that Mr. Ogden did promise me a demonstration.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yes! Clement.” Hildebert frowned. “You are ever so forgetful lately, Clement. I do wonder what has been so occupying your mind!”

  “Forgive me, sir.” Clement took up the blue silk breeches with great care, striving not to frown too openly at the selection. “May I perhaps suggest one of your riding suits, instead? You yourself said that it is best to wear horse clothing in order to see to horses.”

  “Oh!” Hildebert turned his thoughtful frown upon the clothing he had chosen. “Oh, yes, that does seem best. One would not want to be disrespectful.”

  Clement wanted to ask who, precisely, Hildebert thought was being disrespected by not wearing riding clothes to engage with horses, but thought it best not to ask in case it turned out to be the horses’ good opinion that was at risk.

  Tidying away the motley, Clement got out Hildebert’s second-best riding suit and helped him to dress. Hildebert was impatient about shaving and breakfasting, but Clement was not about to let his master leave his chambers in a state of dishevelment.

  When they arrived at the paddock, Hugo was taking one of the horses through its paces, guiding it around the paddock in a neat display of footwork. Hildebert hastened to the paddock fence, admiring, and Hugo drew the horse up alongside.

  “How admirable!” Hildebert exclaimed. “What is it that you are doing?”

  Dismounting from his horse, Hugo came to open the gate so that Hildebert could enter. “Basic dressage, in the classic style. My horses have sold to local farmers and nobles alike. As I said, I have bred them for their strength and health, but I would not allow any horse to leave my stables with anything less than the basic dressage forms for riding and hunting.”

  “How interesting!” Hildebert exclaimed, admiring both Hugo and the horse with fascination. “I wish to learn all about it!”

  “My lord of course already knows how to ride, may I assume?”

  “Oh, no,” Hildebert said, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’ve never liked the beasts. My brother’s animals were always such ill-tempered brutes, and high strung.”

  Hugo offered his hand with a gentle, reassuring smile. “Perhaps you’d like to learn?”

  Clement leaned against the outside of the paddock fence to watch them. Hugo’s attention was dutifully on his master, not sparing a glance for Clement, and Clement sorely wished that Hugo would turn that gentle smile upon him, if only for a moment.

  Peering warily at Hugo and the horse, Hildebert at length extended his hand to accept the offer of help, and the lesson.

  Hugo entrusted him with the horse’s reins for a moment, instructing him how to stand so as to not alarm the animal, and went to fetch a mounting block from the end of the paddock.

  It dawned upon Clement, as Hugo returned, set the mounting block, and aided Hildebert onto the horse, that he was not needed here. Hildebert was perfectly entertained and in good hands, and there was no reasonable threat of him finding his way into trouble or danger while he was engaged with the horses under Hugo’s supervision.

  The realisation of having a free morning was incredible to Clement.

  Hugo and Hildebert were both busily distracted by the lesson, so Clement did not bother to formally excuse himself as he left them to it.

  As he returned to the house, Clement’s mind had resumed making lists of his duties and their relative levels of importance and urgency. He stopped in the main kitchen, finding Mrs. Ledford engaged in polishing silver as she oversaw the day’s cooking. “Is all well, Mrs. Ledford?”

  Glancing up from her work, Mrs. Ledford’s steady, humourless gaze trained upon him for a moment before she nodded. “All is well.”

  “How are Mrs. Devereux and Miss Lockwood entertaining themselves this morning?”

  “I believe that they are engaged in artistic pursuits in the gardens. They departed after breakfast with an easel and canvas.”

  Clement allowed himself a slight smile in gratitude for the pleasant weather and a relatively tame entertainment to occupy Jane and Letty. “Thank you, Mrs. Ledford. Carry on.”

  Mr. Midgley was counting dishes in the main dining room. Clement glanced in and received an irritable scowl for his trouble.

  Clement quickened his pace down the corridor. He hoped to spend the morning seeing to the accounts, and required the orchard produce ledgers from Hildebert’s study.

  The upstairs hallway was almost completely silent without Jane and Letty’s laughter or Hildebert’s chatter echoing from nearby rooms. Clement paused in the stillness and took a moment to breathe in the peace and quiet.

  When he stepped into the master study, expecting the same empty silence, Clement was surprised to encounter Mr. Busick, engaged in his usual business of checking and trimming the little-used lamp wicks.

  “Mr. Busick.”

  The head footman replaced the glass chimney upon the lamp before he turned, and a slight smile dawned upon his wrinkled features. “Mr. Adair.”

  Clement opened his mouth to make some sort of bland greeting, but then shut it again, brows pulling together as he changed his mind. “Mr. Busick, I don’t suppose you’d have any sort of idea how to remove silver stains from clothing? I’m beginning to fear that I shall have to give the suit up for lost.”

  Much to Clement’s surprise, Mr. Busick’s head lifted with interest.

  “The silver water, same as stained Mr. Devereux’s hands as it did?”

  “The same.”

  “No trouble at all. Bit of potash in water—don’t take alarm at the colour it turns, that’s all as expected—set to soak, and then followed up with a wash of salt with a bit of lye. That will set it to rights quick enough.”

  Clement’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Potash! Is it that simple? How the devil did you know that?”

  Chuckling, Mr. Busick shook his head. “It’s an ordinary enough trouble, Mr. Adair. One learns these things in five decades as a butler.”

  “You have my sincere thanks for the information, Mr. Busick.”

  Clement turned away, intending to handle the matter himself, and then thought the better of it. “Mr. Busick, if I send a footman to you with the item in question, would you be willing to instruct him as to the process?”

  The old butler nodded, expression warm with humour. “I’ll see to it.”

  For the first time in weeks, Clement felt a full smile break across his face. “Thank you, Mr. Busick.”

  Chapter 16

  Hildebert’s fascination with the horses continued in a similar manner the next day. He spent all morning taking riding lessons with Hugo, and promptly after luncheon retired with Hugo to his previously-unused study, where they spent the afternoon in animated discussion of horse bloodlines, breeding, and qualifications.

  Left nearly to his own devices, Clement caught up on his management of the accounts by mid-afternoon, and was then free to tour the gardens at length with Miss Grant as they discussed the development of the orchards and the supplies that she had ordered. He took careful and copious notes, and then returned to his accounts to adjust them accordingly.

  Hugo and Hildebert’s conversation, when Clement checked in with them over tea, had progressed to the bloodlines and breeding of dogs. Clement left them to it.

  He found Letty in the library, curled up with a book as grandly as if she were herself the lady of the house.

  Smiling with fond patience, Clement came to sit nearby. “You look altogether far too comfortable to be a lady’s maid.”

  Letty smiled, glancing up only briefly from her book. “I have a very tolerant lady.”


  “Does she not require your company? I scarcely see the two of you apart.”

  “No, she has gone to take tea with Mrs. Dixon, which will keep her away for most of the afternoon. I am at my leisure.”

  “How are you enjoying your book?”

  “Quite well. It is very dull and provincial, which I hope you will admit to no one that I quite enjoy. Jane prefers the books we read to be nearly dripping with blood and scandal, which is all very well, but sometimes one does desire a change.”

  Relaxing back into his chair and Letty’s company, Clement let his eyes fall shut to enjoy the peaceful afternoon.

  “Do you know, Clement, I cannot recall the last time I saw you relax?”

  Clement smiled. “In truth, I think it may have been at Lord Devereux’s estate.”

  “I would believe that.”

  A low snore echoed from somewhere in their vicinity, causing Clement to sit up straight in surprise.

  “It is Mr. Busick,” Letty explained, calmly turning a page. “He favours napping on the upper level in the afternoons.”

  “I would make some dry comment, but I remain entirely grateful to Mr. Busick for the solution to removing silver nitrate stains. As far as I am concerned, he may nap where he wishes.”

  “And I?” Letty asked. Her eyes sparkled with playful challenge.

  “You answer to Jane, not to myself. You may likewise do as you wish.”

  “I am glad you see sense.”

  “So long as you cause no trouble for Ledford, Midgley, or myself. Zounds, Letty, the trouble from the blanket-fortress you built.”

  “It was Jane’s idea.”

  “I would that you would refrain, at least until things are more settled. I can barely manage—Midgley’s given me the accounts, did you know that? And it’s all I can do to keep the household from ruin.”

  “And you are conspiring with Ledford constantly these days. The two of you are thick as thieves.”

  “I don’t know how I would manage without her.”

  Letty innocently lowered her eyes to her book even as she lifted her brows. “In your duties as butler, that is?”

  Cheeks heating, Clement scowled, glancing nervously up toward the upper level. “Don’t say so, Letty. Midgley is already out for my neck.”

  “I wish him luck of it. He must know you’re the favourite.”

  “The favourite!” Clement exclaimed, sitting up. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I meant that you may do as you please without fear of repercussion. Jane favours you, as does Hildebert. It’s a good thing, seeing how you boss them about.”

  “I do not boss them about!”

  “You do so. You herd Hildebert about like one of Mr. Ogden’s pups. Nipping at his heels and fussing over his waistcoat buttons.”

  Indignant, Clement lifted his chin. “It is my duty to see to his waistcoat buttons.”

  “And to fuss, Clement, yes. I’m not being critical. I think you’re making an admirable butler of yourself.”

  “I am run off my feet with exhaustion and the true butler despises me.” Allowing himself a sigh, Clement rubbed at his face. “I do not think I may be described as the favourite, even if they are both very tolerant of me. It is Hugo who has charmed Hildebert with his … horses!”

  “Is that what he charmed you with?”

  Leaning back in his chair and curling his shoulders forward, Clement frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You perfectly well do.”

  “I thought this was resolved, Letty. We are friends.”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks, if you do not wish to confide in me, I do not mind it.”

  Clement gazed down at his palms. “I don’t suppose that there’s anything to confide. I have been so very busy that I’ve had no time to visit the stables. And now!” He gave a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Now even while I might have a spare moment between crises, as Jane has forbidden Hildebert from his alchemical aspirations, his new fixation is upon horses. He wishes to know everything about them, and they’ve spent the entire day discussing breeds and bloodlines. How many words can a person say on the subject of horses? How can they not have tired of the topic already?”

  “If someone were to take an interest in the topic of proper fabrics for suits and the appropriate cut and colour to be worn at different occasions and times of the day, how long do you suppose you could go on about the subject to an interested audience?”

  Sliding his eyes away, Clement picked at a loose thread on the arm of his chair. “A manner of hours, I suppose.”

  Letty rolled her eyes toward heaven, and went back to her book.

  After another minute, Clement sighed. “I am charmed by him, Letty, truly. I don’t know what it means, nor what to do of it.”

  Letty shut her book and set it upon her lap. “What do you wish to do of it?”

  “He has invited me to dinner more than once, and has suggested that I might stay the night. I might like that, I think. To share a bed, not out of necessity or space, but for the simple desire to be near to a person who one finds… who one finds charming.”

  “It is nice,” Letty said.

  Clement raised his brows at her.

  She returned the expression archly.

  Clement looked away out the library windows. The stables were on the opposite side of the house, and Hugo would still likely be conversing with Hildebert. Clement gave the loose thread an irritable tug.

  “It has been weeks, Letty. Weeks that he’s been inviting me to come to dinner, and perhaps stay after. It is such a simple request, and I have been consistently unable to find the time to grant it.”

  “Surely he understands that you must prioritise Hildebert’s needs and requests.”

  “He does. And yet… I feel as though something is slipping through my fingertips. Hugo’s eyes follow me with this sort of betrayed sadness. And then there is Midgley, who greets me with accusatory scowls whenever I enter a room.”

  “Oh, has Midgley charmed you likewise?”

  Laughing and scowling in surprise, Clement swallowed wrong and was overcome with a fit of coughing as he strove to recover.

  “You’ll have to make time, Clement,” Letty advised. “If you wish to soothe Hugo’s betrayed sadness, you’ll need to prioritise him.”

  “I have been trying. But if I let up my grip on my duties at all, there is the very real risk of ruin for the household, and then…” Clement sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “And then Hugo and I would find ourselves new employment in some other house, and there is the greatest likelihood that we would be separated and…”

  “And he would have to find someone else to charm?”

  “Don’t say so, Letty, I pray you. I don’t wish to think of such things.”

  “All will be well, Clement. I am sure of it. You ought to go to him. Tonight.”

  “I have the accounts to settle. Miss Grant has gotten me her updated accounts—oh, and I do still need to acquire the numbers and estimates from Hugo…”

  “Clement,” Letty said, sighing with exasperation. “Go to him.”

  “I will.” Clement nodded. “Tonight.”

  Clement spent the evening seeing diligently to his duties, determined to finish his tasks for the day so that he could all the sooner meet with Hugo and speak with him.

  At promptly seven in the evening, Clement made his way up to Hildebert’s study in order to see him dressed for dinner. The study was empty.

  Hope and dread mingling in his heart, Clement found Hildebert’s room to be similarly empty, and the upstairs parlour, and at last found Hildebert in the second dining room with Hugo. The plates upon the table held nothing but scraps.

  Clement pressed his lips together firmly so as not to frown.

  Surprised, Hildebert and Hugo looked up, pausing in the midst of a conversation about horse colours and markings.

  “Sir,” Clement said, tense with embarrassment.

  “Clement!” Hildebert blinked at him w
ith happy surprise. “I, er… I would encourage you to join us, but I’m afraid that we have finished. Perhaps a drop of port?”

  “No,” Clement said, bowing his head and tightening his shoulders in perfect servile posture. “Thank you, sir, but if you’ve no need for me, I’ll return to my duties.”

  “Oh, er,” said Hildebert. “Very good, then, Clement. As you please.”

  Not sparing a glance toward Hugo, Clement turned and left the room.

  His heart was pounding, and he felt a fool. He had been so certain that it would be tonight, and yet Hugo had already dined, and Hugo might be engaged for some hours yet attending to Hildebert.

  Feeling bitter and hurt and knowing that he had no one to blame for it but himself, Clement went and laid out Hildebert’s sleeping clothes, then returned to his little room and the eternal stack of invoices, receipts, and correspondence. The chintz curtains which had so pleased him at first seemed cheap now, and painfully cheery.

  Hildebert rang for him hours later, interrupting Clement’s work and making him lose the sum of a complicated equation.

  Setting aside his pen and ink, Clement scrubbed at his hands briefly with a cloth and tugged on his gloves to hide the ink stains before he made his way upstairs, hardly hearing Hildebert’s happy and questionably-accurate recounting of the highlights of his conversation with Hugo.

  When at last he put his master to bed, Clement was free to do as he wished for the night. He stopped in the hallway, holding his candle and staring out the dark window at the grounds outside. There was no light visible in the stables. Hugo might already have retired to bed, or he might merely have shuttered the windows.

  There was a light at the end of the upstairs hall, drawing closer and brighter as its bearer climbed the stairs.