Chapter Twenty-Nine
Since the Ridlington family was so closely involved, Kitty had joined Letitia to provide support for Hecate, as Max and James took their seats in the library. She’d declared that not even wild horses would keep her at Mowbray House while something this momentous was happening.
Hecate’s visit earlier in the day had allowed her to plan out where she needed to be and also to make sure her chosen spot worked for what she had in mind.
The library itself was an enormous, book-lined room, with low shelves acting as dividers. There was a very large desk toward one end, and for this occasion, the chairs from around the room had been set up in two rows facing it.
One entire wall was filled with windows, several of which opened out onto a balcony overlooking a modest terrace and garden. Most were curtained, but the draperies were drawn back on a few, allowing the guests to see tiny snowflakes circling down to dust the parapets. Beneath the balcony was the ballroom, which ran almost the length of the house.
She’d met Sir Peregrine, a most charming and handsome man, with light touches of silver in his hair. His attitude toward her was one of friendly curiosity, and she was surprised to find herself promising to come and spend some time with him in the future so she could talk with him about her talents. He had been gently persuasive, and she felt the sincere interest radiating from him as he asked for her promise.
He was already seated in the front row, since he would be acting as the master of ceremonies.
Several other gentlemen had arrived, others stood in the hall, shaking the light dusting of snow from their coats.
Hecate, Kitty and Letitia watched from the upper floor, all but hidden in the shadows.
A final guest…and Letitia nudged her sisters. “I think that’s him,” she whispered.
Hecate stared.
He was shorter than she imagined; and more rotund. In fact, he looked like exactly what he was. An overfed and indulged member of theTon. His cloak was lined with fur, his clothing tailored to his generous proportions, and diamonds sparkled from his neckcloth and his hands.
It was clear that his attitude was both dismissive and curt, since he walked away from the servants without a word of thanks. Striding into the library, Hecate saw him lift his chin, a man secure in the knowledge that he was above everyone else in the room. At least in his own mind.
Once he had left the hall, the three women tiptoed down the stairs. Hecate knew where she had to be, and slipped silently to the chair standing next to the library wall. Ahead of her was the door, which would remain open.
Finn, who had been lurking in the kitchens—and probably managing to sweet-talk the cook into parting with some of her raspberry tartlets—would approach the same door from the far side of the hall. She would see him at that point.
But there was some time to go before that happened. She closed her eyes and focussed on what she could hear.
James was welcoming everyone to his home and offering refreshment for after the talk. Then he touched on the topic and introduced Perry.
Hecate saw a door open and close and then Finn was there, ready, just out of sight of anyone in the room. If he took a step forward, however, the person standing at the desk would be able to see him. The candles were on the other side of the library and the chandeliers at either end. So although it was well lit, the doorway was shadowed. If all the hall candles had been lit, then there would have been bright light everywhere.
But not tonight. This particular night needed those shadows.
Perry was winding up his introduction. “So thank you all for bringing your interest, your knowledge and your experience to this discussion, gentlemen. I’m sure it will be a stimulating evening for all of us.” He looked at his notes. “I think we should ask Lord Faversill to kick things off, don’t you? He’s a decorated Waterloo veteran, and is now building what might well become the best stud in the country. So I can’t think of anyone better qualified…Lord Faversill? If you would be so kind…”
Hecate envisioned the man standing up with a chest like a pouter pigeon, striding to the desk and harrumphing. She could actually hear him clearing his throat.
But before he could speak, Perry asked a question.
“Waterloo, Lord Faversill. Could you start with a word or two about the battle? I’m sure we’d all appreciate your reminiscences…”
“Oh…I…er well, all right.”
Faversill’s voice was as bland as could be; he launched into a recital that sounded so smooth it didn’t take any of Hecate’s extra abilities to decide it had been carefully rehearsed.
But then James stopped him and asked a question…and then another, touching upon the artillery and the response of their mounts to the sound.
Faversill blustered a little on that one, floundering for generalities wherever possible.
Yes, they’re rattling him.
One of the other guests also asked about the artillery, unwittingly leading the conversation even further down the desired path.
At last Max asked about the Prussians. “And you were right there, weren’t you? At least from what I heard, Lord Faversill, your men were fired upon by mistake. You must have been distraught, the guns, the noise, seeing your men falling around you…”
