“Have hot bathwater and shaving gear sent to mydressing room,” Justin told Phelps as they climbed the steps to the portico. “And a pot of chocolate with extra milk and sugar and a few sweet biscuits immediately. A full meal can follow half an hour after the bathwater.”
He had no idea where he would put Ricky until Wes found his way here too—and even perhaps after that. But for now it was going to be his own room, even if his valet quit without notice.
His valet did not quit. He brought shaving water and a new razor within minutes of Justin’s arrival in the dressing room with Ricky. A footman came behind him with the chocolate and biscuits. The valet’s nose twitched only slightly at the smell before he went into action, stripping Ricky from the waist up and wrapping a towel about his shoulders while he seated him and lathered his face and shaved him. Ricky sat very still and stopped grinning when he was told to.
He ate his biscuits and drank his chocolate while the valet dug out some of the plain clothes Justin always took with him when he went to spend a few weeks with his friends at the stone quarry. Fortunately, he and Ricky were of similar enough size that the clothes would more or less fit him.
By then the bathwater had arrived and Justin’s valet stripped Ricky of the rest of his clothes and the sorry boots, directed one of the footmen who had brought the water to take everything away, and soon had Ricky immersed in the water and being thoroughly scrubbed. He shut his eyes tightly while his hair was being washed.
Justin sniffed the air when Ricky was finally standing on a towel beside the bathtub, being vigorously dried off. “Soap,” he said. “Not roses, but plain soap. A much better smell for a man. Hildy would be proud of you, Ricky. Clean from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.” His valethad set a new toothbrush and tooth powder on the washstand, but the meal would come first.
And thinking of Hilda, he must write to her without delay, send one of his grooms across country again to deliver the letter in person and set her mind at ease—about Ricky, anyway. Wes would be less of a worry to her. He could look after himself. Though as for that, it had turned out that Ricky could look after himself too.
A hot meal was awaiting Ricky in Justin’s bedchamber, where it had been set out on a table. He devoured every morsel.
“That soup was good, Juss,” he said when he was finished. “Almost as good as what Hildy makes.” And he yawned hugely and noisily.
There was a room adjoining Justin’s own, separated from it by his dressing room and another, empty one. It would be his countess’s bedchamber after he married, Justin had always thought, though this was not the suite of rooms his father and mother—and then his stepmother—had occupied. Those were in the west wing, while this was in the corner of the east wing. He took Ricky through to the other room, which his valet had prepared by drawing the curtains across the window and turning back the bedcovers. Justin helped him off with his coat and cravat and then with his boots—a bit of a tight fit—after Ricky had sat on the side of the bed, yawning again.
“We ought to have put you straight into a nightshirt, I suppose,” Justin said. “But no matter. You can sleep here for the rest of the day and all night too if you wish, Ricky. You must not be frightened if you wake up and I am not here. I am going to leave a candle burning once it gets dark. And that door into the dressing room is going to be left open, as well as the one on the other side that leads into my room. You can call for me during the night if you need me.If I am not there, then you must pull on this bell rope and someone will find me and I will come up to you. Just wait here for me.”
“Call for you if I am frightened,” Ricky said. “Pull on that rope if you do not answer. I’ll remember. Pull on that rope. I’m awful tired, Juss.” He yawned again to prove it.
“I know,” Justin said. “Lie down now and I will tuck you in. And, Ricky? Thank you for coming. I know you would have helped me look for my sister. You probably would have found her too, long before I did.”
“I’m good at it,” Ricky said as he lay down and Justin tucked the covers around him.
Justin stood by the bed looking down at his friend. He had been privileged in his life. He had been given the chance, as so few were, to live with people of all sorts and stations in life, to find friendship in unexpected places. Even family. And love.
But he really must go and write to Hilda.
The library was empty, he thought at first when he got there. Perhaps everyone was getting dressed for dinner. Perhaps they wereatdinner. Perhaps they had already eaten. He really had no idea what time it was. But the room was not empty. Lady Estelle Lamarr was standing at one of the windows looking out, and she turned her head to see who was coming into the room. She turned fully when she saw it was him. She was dressed for the evening and looking stunningly beautiful in emerald green. She made him conscious of the fact that he had not changed, or even combed his hair, since he had returned from the lake.
“I thought perhaps you would come here,” she said. “I waited awhile to see if you would.”
“I need to get a letter on the way to Hilda,” he said.
“Yes, I know,” she said. “I took the liberty of writingone myself. It is on the desk. I thought it might save you some time if it meets with your approval, though you will no doubt wish to add a more personal message to assure her that I am who I say I am. I do not know her address or her last name, I am afraid. I had to call her Hilda. I hope she will not be offended by the familiarity.”
He raised his eyebrows and crossed to the desk to pick up the letter lying there. She had neat, stylish handwriting. She had written Hilda that Ricky had arrived safely at Everleigh Park an hour or so before and was at this very minute abovestairs with the Earl of Brandon—Justin—having a bath and shave and a meal. He had found his way, she had explained, by remembering jokes Justin had once told him as memory prompts for the names Everleigh and Hertfordshire. He had asked directions of the drivers of stagecoaches and got a few rides with farmers and one young gentleman. He had insisted upon performing odd jobs in payment for food. He had come here under the mistaken impression that the Earl of Brandon’s sister was missing. He had intended to help search for her. Everyone at Everleigh had been happy to welcome him, especially the earl himself, who would keep him safe until Mr.Wesley Mort arrived.
She had signed the letter and added the explanation that she was a friend of Lord Brandon.
“Thank you,” Justin said, looking up from the page.
“He is resting?” she asked.
“I believe he was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow,” he said. “Which was a blessing. Ricky’s yawns when he is very tired are enough to drive anyone within range of the sound of them to the brink of insanity.”
She smiled. “Oh, Justin,” she said then, her face lighting up. “He did not come here for selfish reasons, becauseyoudid not go there to seehim.He must have misunderstoodsomething you wrote in a letter and thought Maria was missing. He came to help you look for her.”
“I know,” he said. “One has to be very precise about what one says to Ricky.”
“He is lovely,” she said.
“He even smells sweet now,” he told her. “I will just add a postscript to this and a signature and get it addressed and sent off. The poor woman is probably close to losing her mind. She always says that the men in her life will be the death of her sanity.”
“I will leave you to it, then,” she said.
