Page 46 of An Unusual Wager

Sylvester glared at the man who’d had the temerity to awaken him from his dreams of returning to Luxborough and claiming it as his own property at last. He did not look like the bearer of good news. “What is it, man? This is far too early.”

His man appeared to be suffering from some sort of shock, for his face was a nasty shade of gray and his whole body was trembling. “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but something important has…arisen.” He was clasping his hands in front of him as though trying to wring out washing. “Mr. Stubbs told me I had to fetch you down to see.”

Sylvester groaned inwardly. What could possibly have happened to provoke his butler into sending his valet to wake him up at this unearthly hour? Granted, it was daylight, but he liked to rise after nine and take a leisurely breakfast. If this was seven, he’d eat his hat, and dismiss his butler. “Are you sure he said that?” He really wasn’t at his best at this hour of the morning.

“Yes, sir,” the valet said, standing his ground. “He said you would want to be wakened on account of such a thing as has happened.”

“For God’s sake,” Sylvester grumbled. “Fetch me my banyan and my slippers, then. If I have to come down, I’ll come down. But you and Stubbs are going to regret this.”

The valet hurried to do his master’s bidding.

Only a few minutes later Sylvester arrived in the front hallway of his house where Stubbs was standing by the front door, which stood slightly ajar.

“What is it then?” Sylvester snapped.

Stubbs, for answer, opened the door wider.

The body of Thomas Teesdale, minus his old cocked hat, fell into the hallway from where it had undoubtedly been propped up against the door. Outside on the pavement a small crowd of early risers—street sellers and tradesmen mostly—had already gathered and all were staring at his front door and his early, but definitely dead, caller.

Sylvester was momentarily without words.

Not for too long though. “What on earth is someone like that doing on my doorstep?” he blustered. “Some ruffian, no doubt.” Best not to admit to knowing the corpse’s identity. “It’s Mr. Teesdale, sir,” Stubbs said. “The gentleman who called here a few weeks ago. I’d know him anywhere, even dressed like this.” He paused and bent down, detaching a note from where someone had pinned it to the body. There was blood on it. “And even if I hadn’t, this note identifies him.”

Sylvester snatched the note from Stubbs’s hand. No need to unfold it, for whoever had pinned it to the corpse had left it open for all to read. He could only hope none of the crowd had read it. The words on it were written in large black capital letters.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO WOULD-BE ASSASSINS.

No spelling mistakes.

Sylvester swallowed. That someone knew not only that Teesdale had been involved in the assassination attempt that must have taken place on Jonathan seemed obvious. That the same someone knew he was involved also seemed obvious.

What to do with the body? And all this crowd who could testify to having seen the corpse on his own doorstep?

Too late. A constable stepped forward out of the crowd and up to the front door. “’Ello, ’ello, ’ello,” he said in the tones of a cockney born and bred. “What’s goin’ on ’ere then? Who’s this feller?”

Sylvester quaked inside, frantically groping for a way to explain away a member of the ton dressed like a footpad and who’d been dumped on his own doorstep. This was going to take some acrobatic ingenuity.

At Luxborough, Verity was already up and dressed and in the act of eating luncheon with Kitty. It was another school day for her new young friend, and Miss Bligh had joined them both in the dining room, which Verity had belatedly made the decision to have opened up for their use.

“It is rather a walk to and from the vicarage,” Miss Bligh said as she sipped her tea. “I do find it quite tiring on a hot day. This is most fortifying.”

“You really don’t need to put yourself out on hot days just for me,” Kitty said with alacrity. “I wouldn’t want to think of you suffering from heat exhaustion, you know.” She accompanied this last with the sweetest of smiles. Anyone who didn’t know her might think she was thinking only of her governess’s comfort.

“No need to worry, Kitty,” Verity said. “I shall send one of the many vehicles you showed me in the carriage house to take Miss Bligh back and forth from now on. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your education for want of a horse to pull a trap.”

Miss Bligh looked most gratified. “That is exceedingly kind of you, Lady Dunster. But please don’t send anything too splendid and put the grooms out. A simple pony and trap will suit me well. I have no desire to appear ostentatious to my brother’s flock. If something more elaborate was to arrive at the vicarage, they might think I had ideas above my station in life.”

“A pony and trap it is then. I think we have one of those in the carriage house, do we not, Kitty?”

Kitty pouted. “We do.”

Verity smiled. “And to make sure you are up and ready to start your lessons, why don’t you be in charge of taking it to the vicarage to collect Miss Bligh?”

Kitty’s face brightened as she was very fond of an outing, and Verity had gathered these were few and far between. As the vicarage was a couple of miles distant in the middle of the village, nestled beside the church, taking the pony and trap there twice a day would be a bit of much needed independence and fun for her. “I can do that,” she said, sounding mollified. Of course, someone was going to have to check she’d done it or Miss Bligh could be left waiting transport that was never coming, and that someone would have to be Verity.

Kitty laid her napkin down. “I’ll go and take my constitutional now, if you’ll both excuse me.”

Verity nodded and Kitty took herself off. This constitutional consisted of circumnavigating the house three times every morning and then again after luncheon, which was a lot further than it sounded as the house was so large and the buildings had a wide footprint. Miss Bligh herself had introduced this to Kitty’s regime as, she’d informed Verity a few days ago, she was a proponent of plenty of exercise for young ladies. Although of course, she herself would be getting less if Kitty fetched and carried her in the pony and trap.