Page 16 of Falling for a Footman

Ten

James cursed himselffor having looked at Lady Charlotte. He should not be encouraging her infatuation. In fact, Mr. Curtis would probably be livid if he even knew that James met the eyes of his employers. He knew that it was not the done thing but yet it was a habit that was hard to shake.

Harrowby had laughed at him as he had disclosed his troubles to fit in as a footman and asked for advice when they had met outside of the abandoned house that morning.

“I thought you were made of sterner material, Wolfe,” he had exclaimed amiably and slapped James friendly on the shoulder. James had been stunned for a second by the man’s teasing and joviality. It was not something that happened often, especially not when Harrowby was sober, and he enjoyed it. It reminded him of how things had been between him and his brother Adam, before Adam had married and had children.

“I am made of stern material. The sternest,” James had bit back at him with a slight smile. “But how do I question people about their whereabouts when I have no reason to do so? They are probably all referring to me as the nosy footman behind my back.”

Harrowby chuckled before he answered.

“I should have known that it would be too difficult for you to fit in. It always is for you highborns,” Harrowby had stated good-naturedly. “There really is no magic to it. You just have to act like yourself, while pretending to be someone else.”

Once again Harrowby’s hand landed on James’s shoulder. James frowned as he tried to make sense of the advice and Harrowby’s joviality.

“Yes, well...” James dragged his feet through the gravel in front of the house as he mustered the courage to continue his report to Harrowby. Then he straightened his back and looked directly at Harrowby, he was no coward after all, as he announced: “There was another theft last night.”

Harrowby cursed under his breath and turned away from James for a moment as if he was digesting the news.

“What did the duke say?” he asked.

James gulped as he remembered his meeting with the duke earlier that day. The duke had been livid in his own subdued way that involved him pacing the floor and speaking in a very low, almost menacing voice. James had been relieved when his anger had not actually been directed at him although it was close.

“How much longer?” had the duke all but thundered at him.

James had tried his best to appease him.

“He was very angry,” James answered truthfully.

“And you are still no closer in figuring out who the culprit can be?” Harrowby asked.

James shrugged. Being on his own, without having Harrowby’s help, was more difficult than he had thought since the thief could practically be anyone among the servants. He told Harrowby about how he had encountered the cook last night but that he had not happened upon anyone else while walking around the dark, deserted estate.

“And you are certain that it is not her?” Harrowby asked.

James forced himself not to shrug again, but he was fairly certain that his shoulders at least twitched. He would desperately like to impress Harrowby on this assignment and be able to be given some of the more interesting cases in the future, but right now he was quite certain that he was failing miserably.

“I thought it would be strange that the cook would first steal the pearl necklace then sneak into an empty guest suite to fill her flask with stolen liquor,” he explained and tried to sound certain.

“But not impossible,” Harrowby claimed and after a moment added: “I think you should start with the people who would naturally have access to the duchess’s dressing room. Most of the staff would have access to the guest bedroom where the candlesticks were but to venture into the duke and duchess’s private domain while they were sleeping in the next room would speak of someone who knew exactly where to look. Hence someone that had been there before.”

James had walked him through the people most likely to have been in the duchess’s dressing room: her lady’s maid, the regular maid, the five other footmen beside himself when they carried water to the duchess’s bath. Perhaps also Mr. Curtis and Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper.

“Start with the lady’s maid, the regular maids and the footmen. It would be unusual if it was the butler or the housekeeper that was the thief. I find that it is generally rarer to steal from an employer that you have been loyal to for decades than one you have been with for months or perhaps only a year,” Harrowby instructed him. James nodded. He was already dreading how he would manage to gain more information from the maids and footmen. “Not that you should completely disregard the butler and housekeeper, though. Anything else?”

James had wondered whether to tell him about Lady Charlotte’s interest in him but knowing Harrowby the man would only laugh at him and say that he could easily handle a young girl like her. It would be pleasant though to confide it in someone. He had thought of speaking to William about it, but he was not certain whether the other footman had noticed. And he did not want to draw his attention to it if he had not.

When James returned to the estate, he had felt a cold pang of dread as he had realized that Lady Charlotte had been out walking and had arrived back only minutes after him and via much the same route through the garden as he had taken. She could only have been a short distance behind him. Far enough behind that he had not heard her, but would he have seen her if he had turned around?

The duke had told him that the abandoned farmhouse was not visited by anyone, and James had not thought to be overly cautious: He and Harrowby had merely looked around that they were not observed. It had been an obvious beginner’s mistake that he had not made certain that he was not followed. The thought felt like he had swallowed acid: He might be a beginner, but he should at least be able to outsmart Lady Charlotte.

Part of him wanted to scold her if she had truly followed him: She could not know whether he was actually the thief and if so to what degrees he was willing to go in order not to be revealed. Another part of him felt a sensation that he could only describe as pride even though it was ridiculous, since he had no role in her abilities. Nevertheless, he felt a sensation like a warm blanket being draped over him of the thought that she had been able to track him to the abandoned farmhouse. It spoke of abilities that even most new recruits among the Bow Street Runners did not have.

Now that he was standing in the dining room, he wished that he had asked Harrowby for advice. Lady Charlotte’s grey eyes narrowed in a way that told him she was seizing him up. James fought to keep his expression neutral as he avoided her eyes once more and willed himself not to swallow.