Douglas wondered briefly if Lady Telford would lay tea for them, then decided that was too optimistic. He remembered her husband, the sort of butcher who never gave an extra ounce of even humble cuts, the kind the Bowdens’ ate. Tea and cakes to drop-in visitors? Out of the question.
“Yes? Yes?” Lady Telford demanded, which assured Douglas there would be no tea and cakes. Just as well; he had no faith in his acting abilities. The sooner this was over, the better.
“Lady Telford, I am a surgeon recently retired from the Royal Navy. I wish to let that stone house by the bridge that Miss Grant here tells me is your property.” There. Straightforward and economical, much like a report to a captain on the condition of men in sickbay.
“For how long, Mr. Bowden?” she asked, looking anywhere but at him.
“No more than two months.”
He heard Olive sigh, which made him wonder if that period of time was too long or too short. “Miss Grant, that is enough time to see Tommy Tavish well on the mend, and Mrs. Aintree’s trifling hand surgery sufficiently healed,” he reminded her. “I would really like to be settled somewhere before winter.”
“I suppose,” Olive replied, sounding surprisingly noncommittal for a woman of firm opinion.
Douglas Bowden approved of philanthropy as well as the next man, but he did have his mind determined upon some sort of medical practice that paid better than fish and cream. When he thought Olive’s attention was devoted to Lady Telford, he regarded her for a moment, well aware that he had neither the inclination nor the courage to stake his entire livelihood on tending to the needs of the constantly poor.Olive, Iam not the person you are, he thought, which did him no credit.
Lady Telford cleared her throat and named her price.
“That is highway robbery,” Olive Grant said firmly, determined, apparently, to fight his battles just as she fought those of the meek folk who ate at her tearoom. Perhaps it was an automatic reflex. She hadn’t given him time to open his mouth. He sat back, wondering how this would turn out. Maybe having someone take up arms on his behalf wasn’t such a bad idea. He had the time, and apparently Olive Grant had the will.
Undeterred, Lady Telford named another price. Olive also refused it and named a lower amount, which made Lady Telford utter something between a gasp and a growl.
Silence. Olive sat a little taller. She leaned forward until Lady Telford had no choice but to follow her lead.
“I am of the certain opinion that if you accept my last offer, Mr. Bowden will relinquish the house completely clean and free of vermin,” Olive said. She leaned even closer, signaling to Douglas that this was the coup de grace. “Besides, I have heard from a creditable source that the house is slightly haunted.”
She sat back, satisfaction on her pretty face, as Douglas stared at her.
“Haunted?” he asked, feeling little cold fingers run up and down his spine.
“Only slightly,” she assured him. “You can get a watchdog.”
Her lips twitched at that, and Douglas had to turn his head and pretend a cough.
Lady Telford went down in defeat. “Very well, I will settle for this ridiculous offer, if Mr. Bowden here has the sum on hand. If not, someone else will have it.”
Who that would have been not one of the three could imagine, if Douglas were to peer inside the brains of eachdetermined woman. He personally knew that no one wanted to locate to Edgar, he among them. He pulled out his wallet and counted out the modest amount that would rent him a house for two months that was only slightly haunted.
“Is there a key, Lady Telford?” Olive asked.
“Under the flower pot by the front door,” the baroness said.
“Is there any furniture in the house?” Douglas asked. He replaced his wallet and wondered how many Romeos and Juliets in Edgar already knew about the key.
“I believe there is a bedstead upstairs, although I would not depend upon a mattress,” Lady Telford said.
Certainly not in a house where probably every sport in town could gain entrance, Douglas thought, not certain if he was appalled or amused.It’s a good thing I have medical knowledge of diseases of the amorous variety. I cannot catch something that easily.
There was no more business to transact, thanks to the expert dickering of Olive Grant. All that remained now was to retreat in good order, ask himself what he had gotten into, and try not to laugh until they were out of earshot.
They all rose at the same time, Lady Telford not meeting his eyes. She turned and swept out of the room, more humorous than dramatic, because she hadn’t the shape to sweep anywhere.
They were down the walk and close to the iron gate, Xerxes their affable if ineffective escort, when Douglas started to laugh. Once the gate creaked shut behind them, Olive pounced on him.
“You recognized her!” she declared. “And she was happy enough to get rid of you. I demand to know what is going on.”
Laughing, he tugged her down the slope, across the bridge, and sat her down on the same bench they hadpreviously occupied. He gave himself over to mirth, something he hadn’t done in a decade or more.
Olive kindly let him, although what she could have done to stop him wasn’t readily obvious. Finally he sat back and accepted the lacy handkerchief she handed him. He gave her a sideways glance, wondering if she thought him a complete idiot.
