Her grandmother gasped. “Measles?”
Lucinda’s stomach tightened. She’d lost her mother to measles, as well as a sister. The entire household had come down with the illness, and it took two of them to the grave.
“Yes, Your Grace. The doctor has now quarantined everyone.”
“Bloody hell!” With that, her father marched to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of brandy even though it was only the middle of the day.
The butler, Warren, joined Mrs. Wetherly, his mouth set in a grim line. “Dr. Talbot is of the opinion that the disease began in the home of Mr. Harley, and as there are no further known cases within the community, he decided to prevent it from becoming an epidemic,” Warren explained. “Therefore, those who attended the assembly, and who have not previously been afflicted, are now quarantined together at either the assembly hall or in one of the three inns in Laswell.”
“That child of a doctor!” her father groused. “Is he even old enough to know if it is the measles?”
Dr. Talbot couldn’t be above six and twenty, having studied under physicians in London after he received his education in Edinburgh. He’d arrived in town three months earlier to take over the practice of their retiring local physician.
“I’m certain that he does, and even if he were uncertain, I’d rather ere on the side of caution. You well know the danger of measles,” Her Grace reminded them.
“Yes, too damned well.” Sadness and pain filled her father’s grey eyes before he finished the liquid in his glass in one swallow and poured another. “How many servantsdowe have for the household?”
“Besides Cook, nearly half of our staff returned,” Mrs. Wetherly offered in a hopeful manner.
If it were just the family in residence, they’d have no issues. But ten lordly guests added a burden and Lucinda hoped they’d brought their own valets to help see to their comfort. Though, guests rarely traveled with servants when attending a house party as they made use of maids and footmen in the household when in need of assistance.
“At least we have Cook,” he grumbled. “What of out of doors?” he asked as if he was almost afraid of the answer.
“Not as many, Your Grace,” Warren answered. “We’ve been reduced to two stable hands, a dairy maid, and the Head Gamekeeper.”
“None of the others bothered to get measles as a child?” her father roared.
“Apparently not, Your Grace,” Warren responded, undisturbed by her father’s tone.
“At least our guests will have drivers to see to their horses and not tax the stable hands overly much. They’ll be busy enough seeing to the care of my cattle.”
Father owned several horses and his stables were quite vast with carriage horses, hunters, those for riding, as well as those used to work the land. At least the numbers had been reduced when her family vacated the premises, as they needed conveyances to travel.
“We have guests arriving in two hours and not enough servants to see to them or the house,” her father summed up the situation.
“We are aware, Your Grace,” Warren answered.
“This is going to be a disaster,” her grandmother nearly cried.
Lucinda smiled. “Or it could be quite fascinating.”
* * *
Caleb Copeland lovedhis three great-aunts. He truly did, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed them to drag him to Forester Hall for a house party. He’d not been invited, which was no surprise as he didn’t even know the Duke of Arscott, but his great-aunts were apparently dear friends of Arscott’s mother, and the ones to receive the invitation. What Caleb found suspicious, however, was that his great-aunts insisted that he accompany them because ladies should not travel without a man to protect them.
He’d snorted at their excuse, as had his siblings since the three sisters traveled widely, with only a few maids and footmen to see to their care, as had been the case when they’d sailed from London to New Orleans only a few years ago. Yet, they suddenly needed him to accompany them from Chatwell Castle in Shropshire to Forester Hall in Devon.
They were up to something, but he’d yet to determine exactly what scheme the three had hatched.
After getting settled in and putting his own things away, Caleb wandered the upper level in search of the stairs when he noted a gallery open to the parlor below. He’d attended house parties in the year and a half that he’d been in England, and the homes were usually filled to capacity. Those gathered below only included his three great-aunts, the Duchess of Arscott and ten gentlemen he recognized from London.
Where were the other misses and ladies?
Further, he’d been led to believe that the Duke of Arscott had nine children, all old enough to be out of the schoolroom, yet they were not attending tea either.
“Why are you up here and not down there?”
He nearly jumped at the voice and turned to find a young woman with dark ringlets and laughing grey eyes.
