I smiled.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing,” I said innocently. “Now, you go and get somerest. I’ll see what I can learn about Lord Rumford’s movements.”
She gathered the teacups onto the tray and picked it up. “I’d better speak to Victor before I go and let him know our plans for him.”
“That won’t be necessary. You don’t have to speak to him if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to, but it must be done.” She indicated the tray. “Besides, I’ve got to return this to the kitchen.”
She strode towards the door, back straight. I smiled, until she suddenly turned around when she reached the door. She scowled at me, and I expected to be scolded for smiling again. But she simply opened the door and marched out.
Accordingto Peter at the check-in desk, Lord Rumford had ordered a hotel carriage to take him to the theater then on to his club. He’d asked for the coachman to collect him there at three AM. It gave us plenty of time.
I went in search of Victor in the kitchen and spotted him at one of the long central benches. Thechef de cuisinestood at a stove, breathing down the neck of a red-faced youth stirring a pot. The head chef had a fierce reputation and I didn’t like venturing into his domain, but this time it was necessary.
I darted into the kitchen and was immediately enveloped by the heat. It pulsed around me like a living, breathing thing, as if it were trying to warn me to get out. Chefs eyed my progress; some shook their heads in warning. The operatic one momentarily stopped singing until I signaled that he should continue.
Victor glanced up from his station and raised his brows.
I mouthed “midnight.” Hopefully he’d spoken to Harmony and understood me.
“YOU!” The bellow, spoken with a French accent, cut through the hot, dense air of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“I just lost my way,” I said.
Thechef de cuisinebarreled towards me like a bulldog. He was a short man with a ridiculous curledmustache, but I wouldn’t dare mock him for it. He looked as though he’d throw one of the knives from his belt at me. “I do not care who you are! Get out! Get out!”
I turned and fled.
I dinedwith Flossy and Floyd in the dining room that evening. Aunt Lilian kept to her suite, and Uncle Ronald had gone out to a gentleman’s club with friends. It made for a relaxing evening, despite having to keep up appearances for the guests. Some still approached our table and greeted my cousins by name, but their number was fewer than when my uncle was present.
For once, Floyd didn’t rush off after dinner. He ordered a glass of port while Flossy and I drank coffee, and sighed with contentment as he sipped. “Good stuff, that.”
“Did you order the most expensive?” Flossy asked.
“Who knows how much it costs?”
“Father.”
“He doesn’t check the accounts that closely, so he’ll never know it was me who ordered it. If he does see it, he’ll assume it was one of the guests.”
Her gaze lifted to the steward, standing by the lectern where he noted down the names of guests as they entered. “Mr. Chapman will know.”
“But he’ll never tell Father.”
“Why not?”
Floyd gave her a smug smile. “Because I’m going to take over one day and Chapman might like to keep his job.”
“That’s a long way off. Father could live for years. Sometimes I think he’ll be here forever.” She said it without much feeling, as if discussing the demise of a mere acquaintance. “And anyway, who’s to say he won’t leave his majority share to someone else? Someonehethinks is more capable of running the show.”
“I am bloody capable.”
“I know that, Floyd, but you know what Father’s like.”
Floyd hunched morosely over his glass while Flossy looked as though she regretted mentioning it at all.
