“I think it will.”
He pushed everything off the desk.
“Perhaps you should lock the door,” she said.
“If anyone interrupts, I’ll cut off their heads,” he said.
“It excites me when you’re masterful,” she said.
He picked her up and tossed her onto the desk. He unbuttoned his pantaloons.
Later
Zoe put the undercook in the cook’s place and had Jarvis, as the highest-ranking woman servant, supervise the female staff. After talking to the men-servants, Marchmont decided not to promote the under-butler—whose greatest skill seemed to be obsequiousness—but to make Thomas, the most experienced of the footmen, his butler and valet.
All of this was for the time being only.
Other households might make do with a combination butler-valet or housekeeper-lady’s maid. Other households did not have porters or under-butlers or steward’s boys. The Duke and Duchess of Marchmont did not make do. They had everything and more. It was their patriotic duty to be waited upon by scores of servants, whether they needed them or not, and the servants were as well aware of this as they were.
Still, the staff performed admirably in the circumstances, and Zoe and Marchmont were able to go out to the theater as they had planned, and afterward to a ball at Hargate House, where Zoe danced with the Earl of Hargate, three of his five sons, and most of Marchmont’s friends.
The duke and duchess knew rumors would start circulating soon, regarding the sudden disappearance of their senior staff, but that was for tomorrow and the days to come. For this night, all people talked about was what a handsome couple the Marchmonts made and how amiable and witty the duke was—wittier and in better spirits than anyone could remember seeing him before.
The happy couple returned home at half past two in the morning.
They did not see the shrouded figure skulking in the shadows of the square.
Wednesday, 6 May
April showers, the wags said, came in May, the result of what some still deemed the misguided change, several generations earlier, from Julian to Gregorian calendar.
A glance out of the window told Marchmont that one April shower was in the offing this morning. Black clouds were massing overhead, and an un-May-like wind blasted through St. James’s Square.
It was not the most inviting day to go out, but the Duchess of Marchmont needn’t worry about bad weather. He’d ordered a closed carriage for her. Servants would hold an umbrella over her head when she walked the few paces between vehicle and door. Furthermore, as she pointed out to him, she wasn’t sweet enough to melt.
She needed to visit her parents, and that errand oughtn’t to be put off. They already knew she was happy and well, because they’d seen for themselves—at Lexham House and various social gatherings. But she wanted to seek their advice regarding the servant problem, particularly the matter of finding a housekeeper.
Marchmont couldn’t go with her. He’d sent for his solicitor, to work out the details of Cook’s, Dove’s, and Hoare’s philanthropic servitude. It was a tedious process, sifting through all the possible situations, and deciding where the miscreants would do the most good. This matter couldn’t be put off, either. He could hardly keep them locked up in Harrison’s room indefinitely.
He did leave his solicitor for long enough to see his wife off, though.
“This is exciting,” she said as they crossed the entrance hall. “It’s my first time out alone as a married woman.”
“Not entirely alone,” he said.
Jarvis trailed behind her mistress, umbrella in hand as always.
“I told her she needn’t come,” Zoe said. “I told her there would be two big, strong footmen standing at the back of the coach and a burly coachman driving, and we’re only going a short distance.”
“We must hope that the housemaids don’t run amok while she’s away,” he said.
“What do housemaids do when they run amok?” Zoe said.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Excessive dusting?”
She smiled up at him, and he could actually feel his heart melting. Marriage had a deleterious effect on a man’s dignity. If he didn’t watch out, he’d be giving her idiotish smiles in return.
He pretended the feathers of her bonnet needed straightening. Then he had to adjust the satin puffs at her shoulders. Then he had to step back and regard her critically.
