by Alec, Joyce
Not quite certain what to make of this—for what sort of gentleman would make his way into another’s townhouse, take off his boots, and then lie down on the bed?
Frederica frowned hard.
“My uncle has perhaps invited someone to stay with us,” she suggested, although this brought a heavy frown to the butler’s lined forehead. “I confess that I would be very surprised if he had done so, however, given that he has not mentioned it to me.”
“Or to me, my lady,” the butler replied, spreading his hands. “I was not certain whether or not to waken the duke, but given the situation, I think it best to do so.”
Frederica hesitated, then nodded. “Lock the door,” she said firmly, taking control of the situation at hand. “I myself will dress and then will return to wait for the duke to attend. Of course, he must be the one to step inside and to speak to the gentleman within, for there is no telling as to what state this fellow might be in.”
The housekeeper’s eyes widened all the more and she hastily pulled out the keys from the pocket of her dress. Quickly pulling the door shut, she had the door locked in a moment.
“Excellent,” Frederica said calmly. “Now, if someone will waken the duke, I shall dress and return here to keep vigil until he arrives. The rest of you may go about your duties.”
The housekeeper nodded and stepped away, ushering the footmen and the maid to do the same.
“I will speak to His Grace at once,” the butler said as Frederica turned back to make her way to her own bedchamber. “Thank you, my lady.”
Frederica smiled back at him before she stepped into her own room, unable to pretend that she did not find a great deal of curiosity rising in her chest as she thought about the gentleman in the guest bedchamber. Just who was he? And for what possible reason had he come into her uncle’s house, uninvited, only to make himself comfortable in one of the guest bedchambers? It was a very odd situation, and Frederica had to confess a great excitement in finding out the truth.
4
“I should rouse yourself hastily, if I were you.”
Percy frowned hard as he struggled to open his eyes, wondering which of his staff had the audacity to speak to him in such a manner.
“At once, sir!”
“Hold up there!” Percy exclaimed, his voice rasping and his throat sore as he rubbed one hand across his eyes. “How dare you think to speak to me in such a way?” Opening his eyes, he looked around the room, only to focus on the sight of a tall gentleman standing to one side of the bed, his arms folded across his chest and a deep frown settling across his brow.
Percy caught his breath, pushing himself up quickly and looking all about him, only to realize—with horror—that he was not in his own bed.
“Lord Wetherby!”
Lady Frederica’s shocked voice ran across the room toward him and Percy dropped his head into his hands, letting out a loud groan as he did so. Last evening was something of a blur and yet again, it seemed, he had imbibed a little too much.
“I presume there is some reason as to why I find you in my house this morning?” the duke asked, his tone ringing with authority and making Percy cringe all the more as he dropped his hands and pushed himself into a standing position. His head screamed with pain, but he did not move or cry out. Whatever he had done, he had truly made a fool of himself this time.
“I cannot say at present, Your Grace,” Percy replied heavily. “My thoughts are somewhat clouded.”
“I can see that,” the duke replied, grimacing as Percy glanced at him. “Well, we cannot throw you from the house at present, for fear that someone will see you and, in turn, begin to speak and whisper of what they have seen. No doubt many rumors will begin to fly around London because of your presence here, should you be returned to your house at present.” With a heavy frown still settled over his brow, the duke cut the air with his hand. “You will remain here, Lord Wetherby. My staff will see to your clothes and you will make yourself more presentable and then join us at the dining table for breakfast.”
Dark clouds settled over Percy’s heart as he hung his head, confused beyond measure as to why he was here in this house and what he had chosen to do last evening. “You are very kind, Your Grace.”
“I am doing what I believe is best for my own family and situation,” the duke snapped, clearly angry with Percy’s behavior. “As I have said, join us when you are ready. Come, Frederica.”
Percy’s eyes snagged on Lady Frederica, who had been standing just inside the door, staring at him as he had risen from his bed. Her eyes were wide, her face pale with shock. Watching her turn away with the duke, Percy felt his shame pour all through him as he was left alone with only a maid and footman ready to aid him in whatever he required. He dared not think about what he looked like, quite certain that he was entirely disheveled, which only added to his disgrace.
He groaned and rubbed one hand over his face.
“I will fetch you some water, my lord,” Percy heard the maid say, before the footman asked if there was anything he could do to assist Percy in some way. Removing his cravat and peeling off his shirt, Percy handed the latter to the footman and asked him to find a way to remove the creases, so that, at the very least, he might appear a little more presentable. Being left alone for the first time since he had woken, Percy made his way to the mirror that hung on the wall and looked at his reflection, seeing the bags under his eyes and the dark shadow around his jaw.
Just what have I done?
* * *
It was some time later before Percy felt able to join the duke, the duchess, and Lady Frederica at the dining room table. He had not wanted to keep them waiting, not after what he had endured himself, but the pressing of his shirt and, indeed, the removal of one or two stains had taken a good deal longer than he had expected. His courage almost failed him as he approached the dining room, having been directed there by the butler, but Percy forced himself to lift his shoulders and to step inside, knowing precisely what was to face him.
The duke, duchess, and Lady Frederica sat together at the dining room table, having clearly already broken their fast. The duchess was busy pouring tea for herself and Lady Frederica stopped as he entered, rising to her feet to greet him although Percy felt as though he deserved no such respect.
“Do be seated.”
The duke’s voice was low and severe, leaving Percy inclined to hang his head in shame. He went to sit down at once, feeling three sets of eyes on him and knowing that they would be seeking an explanation—an explanation he was not certain he could give.
“Well, at least you look a little more respectable,” Lady Frederica remarked, her words sharp. “Would you care for some tea?”
Taken aback by her offer, Percy lifted his head to see Lady Frederica waiting for him to answer, one eyebrow arched.
“I—I would be very grateful,” he answered, and she rose from her chair to pick up another china cup and handed it to the duchess, who poured the tea at once. Percy could not help but watch with astonishment, having expected to have been bombarded with questions and then thrown from the house without so much as a morsel of kindness. He did not deserve any such thing from them, not when he had behaved so.
“Here.” She set it down before him, her eyes meeting his for just a moment before she turned to seat herself once more. Percy dropped his gaze to his steaming cup of tea, his heart quailing as he prepared to speak.
“I am sure there is nothing I can say that would recommend itself enough to be a satisfactory apology,” he began, keeping his head low. “Indeed, if there was, then I should say it at once.”
The duke cleared his throat and Percy looked up.
“How did you manage to make your way into my house?” he asked, and Percy shook his head. “And why did you do so?”
Percy closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. “I do not recall a good deal about last night, Your Grace,” he said honestly, knowing that such an explanation was not at all satisfactory. “Which, I confess, I am a
little perturbed about given that I did not drink more than one glass of brandy.”
A quiet laugh came from Lady Frederica, which, in turn, caught everyone’s attention. Three sets of eyes turned to her and a slight flush came into her cheeks as she gestured toward Percy.
“Are you quite certain of that, Lord Wetherby?” she asked, her tone entirely disbelieving. “It may be that you believe yourself to have had only one glass, but given your penchant for—”
“I am quite certain.” Percy spoke without thinking, rudely interrupting Lady Frederica. His tone was hard, but he did not want her to think even for a moment that he had managed to get himself into the same situation as he had done before. “Forgive me for interrupting you, Lady Frederica, but I am quite certain that I drank nothing more than that. I was quite determined, you see, and therefore took great care.”
Lady Frederica still appeared to be rather disbelieving given that she gave him a miniscule shake of her head and turned away, but Percy knew in his heart that he was correct. He had been cautious. He had only drunk a little brandy and even that had tasted foul, most likely because he had still been enduring the effects of too much the night before.
“My memory is very clouded indeed,” Percy admitted. “I have been struggling to recall anything about last evening, even though I am quite certain I was not in my cups.” He spread his hands. “As for why I found myself in your house and in your guest bedchamber, Your Grace, I cannot understand.”
The duke sighed heavily and passed one hand over his eyes. “It is very strange,” he muttered. “None of the staff heard your arrival. Most of them, of course, had already retired to bed, but those who waited for us to return heard nothing.”
“Might I ask,” Percy said, a little hesitantly, “whether or not the front door was unlocked?”
The duke shook his head. “It would not have been,” he said without hesitation. “The butler was informed to lock it tightly and that I should knock when I returned. It is a habit that I have formed for many years and the butler would not have deviated from such instructions.”
“Then I must have entered through the servants’ entrance,” Percy murmured, half to himself and half to the duke. “And, as you have said, if they were all abed then—”
“Then no one would have noticed your arrival,” the duchess interrupted, her own brow lowering into a small frown. “But that surely must mean that you were not in your cups, Lord Wetherby. For if you had been, then I would expect that you might well have made a good deal of noise upon your arrival and surely someone would have woken and heard you?” She looked toward the duke, who, after a moment, nodded.
A sheen of relief washed through Percy, his forehead beading with sweat. He did not want the duke or the duchess to believe that he had been foxed for what would have been the second time and yet did not have any real explanation as to why he had been found in the house.
“It must be a trifle unsettling for you yourself, Lord Wetherby,” the duchess continued, turning back to look at him. “To have no recollection as to why you were here must be somewhat upsetting.”
“I am only ashamed,” Percy told her truthfully. “If I had some explanation, I would share it with you at once, Your Grace, but as it stands, I am without anything to say.”
Lady Frederica sat up straight in her chair, her eyes bright as she swung her head toward him. “Your driver,” she said excitedly as Percy stared back at her. “Would your driver not know of what occurred? Surely if you had your own carriage, you would have—”
“I would have had it driven here and requested them to leave me nearby,” Percy finished as Lady Frederica nodded fervently. “Yes indeed, Lady Frederica, that may well be so. My driver might…” He frowned and shook his head as a memory slowly began to return to him. “I recall, however, that I was not in my carriage,” he continued, speaking slowly as it came back to him a little more, hazy and uncertain. “I do not know why but, for whatever reason, I recall that I found a hackney.” He shook his head, lifted one hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes, he remembered how he had climbed into a hackney which must have been some distance away from Lord Merseyside’s house given that the streets near to his townhouse would have been filled with carriages. “Why should I have done that?”
“Would you have spoken to your driver?” Lady Frederica asked as Percy dropped his hand back to his side. “Would you have informed him as to why you were taking a hackney?”
“I doubt it very much,” Percy replied, shaking his head. “There may be something he can tell us, but it will not be as we had first hoped.”
The duchess suddenly caught her breath, her eyes rounding as she stared at Percy. No one said anything for some moments, looking back at the lady as one and waiting for her to speak.
“I recall,” the duchess breathed, turning her gaze back toward her husband, “that last night we found ourselves in some difficulty when our driver had to pull the carriage to the side in order to avoid—”
“A hackney,” the duke said at the very same time as his wife. “Yes, of course. How could I not recall such a thing?” He turned his gaze back to Percy. “We were forced onto the side of the road by the careless, reckless driving of a hackney,” he explained as Percy listened wordlessly. “If that was you in there, Lord Wetherby, then it suggests that either the driver himself was foolish or there was some reason that he was going as fast as he was. Perhaps to avoid someone or to escape from something?”
He spoke as though he expected Percy to remember what had occurred, but Percy could only shake his head. “I am sorry that such a thing happened to you all and can only apologize further if I was the cause of it,” he said as the duke’s brow furrowed once more, “but there is nothing I can say that will give any sort of explanation. I do not know why I went to the hackney. I do not know why I told the driver to drive in such a ridiculous fashion, if that is what I did. And I certainly do not recall why I then decided to climb into your house and make my way to a guest bedchamber, Your Grace.” He spread his hands, wishing that his memory would return. “In time, I might recall a little more, but for the present, there is naught but shadows and whispers in my mind, Your Grace. Forgive me for that.”
The duke, who clearly believed that Percy would remember something more should he only tell him about the carriage, sighed and nodded. “I understand,” he said eventually. “You say that you were not in your cups, Lord Wetherby, and, whilst I would be inclined not to believe your words, I shall, for the moment, trust them to be true. Which only goes on to beg the question—why do you recall so little?”
Percy threw up his hands, feeling a great sense of frustration flood him. “Would that I could say, Your Grace,” he answered honestly. “You find me greatly ashamed this morning, greatly ashamed. I have woken to find myself in a room and a house that I ought not to be in, with no understanding of how I came to be here or what my intentions were. It is to my everlasting shame that I have done such a thing.” He glanced to Lady Frederica, who was watching him with sharp eyes, her lips in a thin line as though she could not quite bring herself to believe anything he had to say. “And I can only apologize all the more for what I have done, wishing desperately that there was more I could say by way of explanation.”
Lady Frederica sighed and looked toward her uncle, who, after a moment, nodded.
“Pray, take something to eat,” he said, gesturing to the side where a good many dishes stood waiting, their silver trays hiding them from Percy’s view. “There is no point in you sitting here with us without breaking your fast.” He himself rose from his chair and made his way to the door. “Thereafter, perhaps you would be good enough to send a note to your driver requesting that your carriage be brought here during the time for afternoon calls?”
Percy nodded, his stomach twisting this way and that. “But of course.”
“That way, you can depart without raising the suspicions of anyone,” the duke said, looking pointedly at Percy, who felt heat c
limb up his spine, embarrassed beyond measure. “My staff will say not a word to anyone, for if they do so, then they are already aware that they will leave my employment without a reference. Therefore, both your reputation and that of my own house will be protected.”
“You are very kind, Your Grace.”
The duke waved a hand, brushing aside Percy’s words. “Not at all,” he answered softly, looking first to his wife and then to his niece. “There is something of a mystery here at present, I believe, and if it is merely that you were a little drunk, then I shall find it out and will bring that particular piece of news to you, Lord Wetherby.” His eyes were hard as he looked back at Percy, who, in turn, lifted his chin and held the duke’s gaze steadily, quite determined that he had not been so. “However, if it appears that it is as you have said, then there is a good deal more for us to understand.”
“And understand it, we will,” the duchess added, reaching out one hand toward the duke, who took it at once, pressing it lightly as he smiled at her.
“I cannot imagine that you and Lady Frederica would be contented to leave things as they stand,” he told the duchess as Percy looked on. “I shall speak to Lord Merseyside this afternoon and discover if there is anything he can tell me about last evening as regards you, Lord Wetherby.”
“I am grateful,” Percy replied, rising respectfully from his chair as the duke made to take his leave. “I will, of course, do anything I can to be of aid to you, Your Grace. I swear on my very life that I was not overcome by liquor last evening, however. I know for certain that Lord Merseyside will be able to confirm it.”
The duke looked back at him steadily for some moments, then nodded. “Very well,” he stated as Percy inclined his head in gratitude. “Do send word to your driver as soon as you can, Lord Wetherby. And now, if you will excuse me.”