The Reverend raised his eyebrows as his daughter flung herself into a chair. ‘That’s not what you said last night,’ he observed bluntly.
‘He didn’t even say a dozen words to me earlier. How can I marry someone who doesn’t even deem me worth the time of day?’
‘Well, he had plenty to say to you last night,’ her father reasoned. ‘Thunder an’ turf, Chastity, don’t throw a deuced rub in the way. Remember the alternative is Edmund Fitzroy.’
‘At least he thought me attractive,’ Chastity muttered, peeved.
‘And that’s a good thing?’ Augustus Shackleford questioned doubtfully.
‘Yes…no, oh I don’t know. The fact is I’m just a means to an end, Father. If he has nothing to say to me now, then what will happen after the wedding?’
Her father shrugged, obviously nonplussed. ‘Agnes and I get along perfectly well together, and I can’t remember the last time we actually spoke. There are worse things, Chastity, believe me. You could have ended up with a gabster.’ He shuddered.
‘But he thinks me in possession of nothing but fresh air between my ears,’ Chastity protested in a softer tone.
‘Oh, I’m sure that isn’t the case,’ Percy piped up vehemently. The Reverend nodded his head in enthusiastic agreement despite the fact that he’d been thinking the exact same thing mere days ago.
‘I mean, last night,’ Percy went on earnestly, ‘he was prepared to accept your offer of help in clearing his name. So surely that says he believes you to be reasonably intelligent?’
‘Or he was desperate,’ muttered Augustus Shackleford under his breath.
‘Perhaps you are right. I am likely overreacting,’ Chastity responded, chewing her nail thoughtfully. ‘But now Malcolm is on the case, I presume we three are now surplus to requirements.’ She sighed, picking up a piece of cake.
‘That doesn’t have to be so,’ declared her father. ‘I’m certain there are a myriad of tasks we can undertake to facilitate Malcolm’s enquiry.’ Both Chastity and Percy stared at him open mouthed.
‘Goodness, Father, I had no idea you had it in you to be quite so articulate,’ Chastity remarked, her good humour slightly restored. ‘Do you have any ideas?’ She nibbled on her cake as she waited.
In truth, the Reverend hadn’t got a clue, and he was just about to bluff it out when there was a knock on the door.
‘Come,’ shouted the Reverend, the relief in his voice unmistakeable. Mrs Jenks stuck her head round the door. ‘Forgive me for disturbing you, but their graces are out, and I’ve no one else to ask.’
‘What’s the problem, Mrs Jenks?’ Chastity asked with a frown.
‘There’s this young man at the door. Says his name is Jimmy Fowler and he works for the Duke back in Blackmore.’
‘I seem to remember Nicholas mentioning Jimmy was on his way here,’ the Reverend recollected. ‘Is Malcolm at home, Mrs Jenks?’
‘I think he went out earlier, Sir. Would you like me to check?’
‘Why don’t you send him up here to us?’ Chastity interjected. ‘I’m certain Nicholas won’t object. I haven’t seen Jimmy for ages. It will be nice to see how he is. Would you be able to get him a room ready for tonight, Mrs Jenks? I doubt he will return to Blackmore until he’s had occasion to speak with the Duke.’
The housekeeper nodded. ‘There is one small problem Miss Chastity. He’s not alone. He has a… lady with him.’ Her pause before the word lady, spoke volumes.
‘Well, I doubt he’d be bringing a deuced lightskirt with him,’ Reverend Shackleford grunted. ‘Did he say who she was?’
Mrs Jenks shook her head. ‘No he didn’t, but my goodness, she’s uncommonly tall.’
There was a sudden crash as Percy dropped his plate on the floor. Flustered, the curate got onto his knees to pick up the pieces with Freddy’s enthusiastic help. ‘Please don’t worry, Mrs. Jenks,’ Chastity murmured waving the housekeeper away. ‘It may be that the err … lady will require a room as well.’
‘I’ll ready two just in case.’ Mrs. Jenks responded. ‘Would you like me to bring a small repast perhaps?’
‘Excellent idea,’ the Reverend declared absently, eying his curate with a frown.
‘What the devil’s got into you, Percy,’ Reverend Shackleford muttered as the housekeeper shut the door. Both he and Chastity watched in astonishment as the curate stood up and looked around wildly. As footsteps came up the stairs, he gave a small moan and began squeezing himself next to the bookcase.
‘Are you addled, Percy?’ the Reverend demanded, truly mystified. The curate responded to his superior’s question by squeezing his eyes shut.
After a quick knock, the door opened again. With one last bewildered glance at Percy, Chastity stood up. ‘Jimmy!’ she smiled, eying the now twenty-year-old with not a little admiration. The former ruffian had changed considerably since the Duke of Blackmore had taken the boy under his wing. Indeed, he was no longer a boy.
