possibility occurred to Benedict. “She isn’t married already, is she? Or engaged?”
“No, nor likely to be, either.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t seem interested in marriage. At least,” Nicholas amended, memory stirring, “certainly not a marriage to a member of our class. If what she tells me is true, she prefers the company of grooms to dukes.”
“Ha! She must have been teasing you,” Benedict scoffed, thinking his brother highly gullible.
“Perhaps,” Nicholas conceded. “I’m only repeating what I was told last night. Furthermore, she’s received four proposals of marriage to my certain knowledge since her arrival in town, and has refused them all. Which would suggest that she certainly isn’t hankering after a husband, let alone a title.” His wicked sense of humour coming to the fore, he gave a shout of laughter. “Why, she paid more attention to you out there in the street just now than she pays to most members of her own class.”
Evidently his brother did not share the joke, for he sat silently staring out of the window. “Don’t disturb yourself,” Nicholas advised. “There’ll be plenty of other pretty wenches gracing the Season once it officially gets under way.”
“I dare say you’re right,” Benedict murmured, a decidedly calculating gleam springing into his striking blue eyes, “but it’s Lady Sophia Cleeve I intend to get to know. So perhaps, all things considered, it might serve me best if I remain incognito for a while longer.”
“How on earth can that benefit you?” Nicholas asked, totally at a loss.
Benedict transferred his gaze to his sibling’s puzzled countenance. “You said yourself that she prefers the company of grooms…And if there is one thing I do know…it’s my way around a stable!”
Chapter Three
The Earl of Yardley was essentially a man of habit, and his sojourn in the capital had not altered his routine to any great extent. Consequently, Cardew knew precisely where his master was to be found at this time of day, and entered the library to discover his lordship, as expected, seated at his desk, carefully studying his correspondence.
“I regret having to disturb you, sir,” he said, as the Earl, pausing in the perusal of the letter in his hand, raised an enquiring brow, “but the head groom is here, requesting an interview with you.”
Like all the other servants, Cardew held his master in high esteem. During the twenty years he had been employed as butler in the Cleeve household he could never recall even one occasion when the Earl had been too busy to spare one of his employees some of his time, and he knew what the response would be even before his lordship said, “Of course. I shall see him at once.”
Certain that his most loyal henchman would not seek an interview on some trivial matter, the Earl set aside his correspondence and a moment later watched his head groom enter, cap in hand, looking totally ill-at-ease, just as he always did whenever in elegant surroundings. Trapp was never happy when away from the stables for any length of time. Horses were his life, and his lordship suspected that he much preferred their company to that of most people.
“Well, come in, Trapp,” his lordship ordered when the groom, who had been with him all those years ago out in India, continued to hover by the door. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here on young Clem’s behalf, sir.” Looking and sounding nothing like the iron-handed ruler of the stables whose word was law, and whose barking commands kept the youngest stable-lads in a permanent state of terror, he moved hesitantly across to the desk.
“Seemingly Clem’s been offered a post as head groom on some large estate in the south, sir. I ’ave to say I don’t want to lose ’im. He’s a good lad and he’s been with us for a number of years, but there’s no denying it would be a good move for ’im.” His weather-beaten face creased into a semblance of a smile. “I ain’t quite ready to hang up the harness yet, as yer might say, so I can’t blame Clem for not wanting to wait around until I do.”
His lordship nodded his head in agreement. “Do you know precisely who has made him this offer of employment, Trapp?”
“That I don’t, sir. Don’t know that Clem does neither, if it comes to that. Or if he does, he ain’t saying. Seemingly someone approached ’im when he were in The Red Lion t’other evening. Said that if he wanted the position, he’d ’ave to take it right away. He’s been given until this evening to make up ’is mind.”
The Earl’s silver-grey brows snapped together, clearly betraying his staunch disapproval. He considered this underhanded way of acquiring employees totally unacceptable. Why, it smacked of nothing short of poaching! Yet, at the same time, he could quite understand Clem’s wishing to improve his lot, and felt it would be very mean-spirited on his part not to let the young groom go simply because he and Trapp would be put to the trouble of finding a suitable replacement.
“If Clem wishes to leave us, then we must accept the situation with a good grace,” he responded at length, echoing his thoughts aloud. “It’s unlikely we’ll find a replacement at a moment’s notice, so I’ll arrange for one of the lads at Jaffrey House to come here.”
“There may be no need to put yourself to the bother, sir,” Trapp surprised his lordship by announcing. “As luck would ’ave it, someone wandered into the mews this morning in search of work. Seemingly, he’s been away in foreign parts for a number of years. Brown as a nut he be, so I don’t doubt the truth o’ that. Came back after his old master died, he told me.”
His lordship was not enthusiastic. “Who was his late employer, do you know? Can he supply a reference?”
“No, sir. Happen there were a spot o’ bother on the boat journey home. Lost all his belongings, so he told me.”
“Mmm.” His lordship’s brows once again met at the bridge of his thin, aristocratic nose. “You know my views, Trapp. I’m never altogether happy about employing people who cannot provide a reference, especially strangers.”
“Aye, sir. I do know.” Trapp raised a hand to scratch his grizzled hair: a habit of his when pondering a ticklish problem. “And, ordinarily, I’m of a similar mind. But I ’ave to say that this fellow knows a thing or two about beasts. It just so ’appens that Miss Sophie’s filly was in one of her frisky moods when he wanders into the mews. Had her quietened down in a trice, so he did. Beasts, I reckon, ’ave a deal more sense than most folks. And what I always says is, if horses take to a cove, then he can’t be all bad.”
There was perhaps more than a grain of truth in this simple philosophy, his lordship decided, and he took a moment or two more to consider the matter. “Very well, Trapp. If you’re willing to give this stranger a chance, that’s good enough for me. If he doesn’t prove suitable, I can, as I’ve already mentioned, send to Jaffrey House for a replacement.”
Although he had given his consent readily enough, his lordship was not completely happy with this unexpected turn of events. Was it mere coincidence, he wondered, watching his henchman leave the room, that soon after his groom had been offered a new position, someone should have turned up looking for work? A wry smile tugged at the corner of his thin-lipped mouth. Perhaps he was just getting too cynical in his old age, he decided, his mind returning to something else which had puzzled him during the past few days.
Why,
