In the lovely Sherbrooke family dining room, Ryder took a drink of his coffee and began sorting through his mail. So many invitations. Didn’t anyone ever want to simply sit by his own fireplace and drink brandy and read one of his son Grayson’s terrifying otherworldly novels? He picked up a letter from Lord Carberry, addressed to him, not to Alex. He unfolded a fine sheet of stationery and read the strong black script. Now this was unexpected. He looked at Alex, who was staring at the eggs on his plate as if he were thinking deep and profound thoughts. “Alex, we’re invited to luncheon at White’s with Lord Carberry and his brother-in-law, Vicar Piercebridge. If Carberry wants to talk about the project and his investment, why ever would he drag along his vicar brother-in-law?”
For a moment, Alex looked perfectly blank.
Ryder said patiently, “Lord Carberry, Elijah Hallou, rich, wants to invest, lots of whiskers, six sons, silent wife, brother-in-law,Vicar Piercebridge, who, apparently, will be accompanying him.” He paused. “You’ve been deep in thought, Alex. Have you figured out how to get the rats out of Buckingham Palace?”
“What? Rats? What rats?”
“Your uncle Douglas attended Victoria’s nineteenth birthday banquet. He saw a rat run over a footman’s shoe, said the poor lad couldn’t move a whisker, had to stand there trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. Evidently another enterprising rat wanted a nibble of the queen’s birthday cake and ran under her skirts to hide when spotted.” Ryder laughed, couldn’t help it. “Can you imagine? The queen screamed her head off, all the palace servants were running around trying to chase down the rat and then another appeared and another. Ah, how I wish I could have seen that. Your uncle laughed himself silly telling me about it, said he wondered if the little queen had ordered the rat’s head cut off.”
Alex said, “Imagine rats in the queen’s residence. That’s appalling. Has anyone figured out how to get rid of them?”
Ryder said, “Douglas told me he’d heard Prince Albert had fixed the problem. Come now, Alex, what has you thinking so hard?”
Alex said slowly, “I think I might have a new idea for a better way to distribute air in a manifold.”
“You’d rather think about a manifold than concentrate your attention on Cook’s nutty buns? And the creamiest scrambled eggs in all Christendom? You must not tell her, Alex, she might lock herself in the butler’s pantry, or put a curse on you.”
Alex took a big bite of his still-warm nutty bun, sat back and chewed. “Now there are no more manifold improvements in my head, the nutty bun knocked them out. Do you remember Edward Lear’s limerick Uncle Douglas recited to us last month, ‘The Old Man with the Beard’?”
“Yes, very clever. I hope Lear gathers all his poems and publishes them in one book. What made you think of that?”
Was that a flush on his ward’s face? Now this was very interesting indeed.
Alex said, “Oh, nothing really, it just came to mind. Evidently Teddy Jewel was looking down Cam’s gown last night.”
“I wonder why she didn’t clout him again?”
Alex smiled. “Even better. She told him he had low manners and if he didn’t elevate his low manners, she would gut him like a fish. It routed him. He left soon after if you will recall. Lady Whitsonby blames Cam of course, and I have wondered what happened if she got her stepdaughter alone, probably threatened to send her to Bath.”
Ryder said, his voice all indifferent, but one eye on Alex’s face, “Perhaps that is for the best. I understand there is a suitor in Bath who wishes to marry her as well, strange name, Goose or Gay or Geese, something like that. Ah, Gayson, that’s it. As for his first name, I do not wish to let it pass my lips.” He paused. “Of course then Lady Whitsonby will have her stepdaughter out of her house.”
Alex drew tight as a bow string, the nutty bun forgotten in his hand. He said only, “The man in Bath is the second son of Baron Riggs and he’s hunting mad, chews his nails and dances like an ostrich. His older brother lives in London, is part of a rabid liberal group that wants to kill every Tory living. He has no chin and his hair is receding fast. The older brother, not the one whose name shall not be spoken.”
Ryder spurted out a laugh, coughed, drank some water, wiped his mouth. “All right, I will force his name out of my mouth—Pilcher. He dances like an ostrich?”
“That’s what Cam told me. She doesn’t want to go to Bath, said it was easier to evade Teddy here in London than Pilcher in Bath. Do you know her aunt Deveraux told her Napoleon put his hand under her skirt? The aunt’s skirt, not Cam’s.”
Ryder laughed again, cocked his head. “It appears you became well acquainted with Camilla Rohman, very quickly. As to Pilcher’s brother’s wish to do away with all Tories, I daresay that’s the wish of each side or each tribe, if you will. What one tribe says the other screams treason and idiocy. I doubt it will stop until the end of time.”
Alex shrugged. “Uncle Douglas isn’t a rabid Tory.”
“You’ve never seen him tug at his hair when the liberals come up with a new—according to him—harebrained scheme.” He paused, said, “I wish I’d been near enough to that bench at Westminster Palace Tuesday to overhear you and Camilla talking. Your conversation sounds quite amusing.”
Alex seemed to collect himself, nodded, but kept quiet.
Ryder said, “Now, back to our invitation for luncheon at White’s. As I said, Vicar Piercebridge is accompanying Carberry. He does not state the purpose of this meeting, but I cannot imagine it being a financial discussion since the vicar will be present. Are you free?”
Alex agreed. “Oh yes, of course.” He added, “Perhaps it’s possible the vicar has funds he wishes to invest.”
Ryder said, “The only rich vicar I know is your uncle Tysen. Your uncle Douglas has invested his funds over the years. Tysen said he is embarrassingly rich but allows it enables him to keep his Scottish home, Kildrummy Castle, in fine shape, so he allows he will bear it. And he grins.”
CHAPTER 18
White’s Gentleman’s Club
Leman Street
Thursday
