In less than a minute, Tilda and Eloise were sitting on a fainting couch that wasn’t hard as a board, while Grace was smiling smugly from her spot on a slipper settee that wasn’t as soft as the fainting couch but wasn’t completely uncomfortable.
Coraline, on the other hand, who’d suffered a tumble during the mad rush, was looking grumpy as she perched on thevery edge of a wingback chair that had a tendency to creak if a person so much as shifted on it, even though it had been highly recommended by an interior decorator who’d set up shop in town, but one Rhenick wasn’t convinced knew the slightest thing about furnishings.
“You’ll be pleased to learn, dear,” Wilhelmine began, settling a smile on him, “that coffee and tea have been ordered, along with some cheese. I know you’re probably famished after the harrowing day you’ve experienced, but while we wait for everything to be delivered, perhaps you could take a moment to give us a few specifics about what happened to you.”
“I hardly know where to begin as I fear my thoughts are still rather discombobulated,” he admitted.
Wilhelmine’s eyes widened. “You’re experiencing discombobulation?”
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds as if I’m experiencing some type of grave malady that may soon see me on my deathbed.”
“No one ever died from discombobulation, darling, but I do think I’m getting an inkling as to why you’ve experienced a harrowing day.” Wilhelmine gave his hand a pat. “It involves a lady, doesn’t it?”
“You’ve met a lady and didn’t tell us about her?” Eloise demanded as his other sisters leaned forward and settled accusatory eyes on him, as if they believed he’d been holding back on them.
“There hasn’t been anything to tell you as I only just met the lady who was mostly responsible for my very peculiar day,” he said.
“And this lady is responsible for your discombobulated state?” Tilda pressed.
“I must admit that she is.”
Wilhelmine settled back against the chaise. “You must tell us everything, and from the beginning, if you please, so that we’ll be able to fully comprehend your peculiar situation.”
Rhenick nodded and then took a moment to attempt to collect thoughts that were still scattered before he tilted his head. “In all honesty, it started off as a completely normal day, one where I got up before dawn, shaved, then fetched some coffee from the kitchen.”
Tilda scooted forward on the fainting couch. “Why didn’t your valet shave you and ring for your coffee since that’s what you pay him to do?”
“Herman has difficulties getting out of bed before nine because he didn’t used to get home from his previous job until after midnight.”
“I forgot your valet used to work in an ale house,” Tilda said as if that explained everything, which it actually did.
“I’m sure he’ll eventually get accustomed to my schedule, but the staffing agency did warn me that Herman wasn’t exactly qualified, given that he had no valet experience. I’m the one who decided to hire him anyway, though, since there was no telling when another unqualified candidate might show up at the agency looking for work.” Rhenick smiled. “On the bright side, if I ever need an ale poured, Herman’s an expert. He spent fifteen years behind the bar at the saloon he worked in before it burned down.”
“While there’s no question Chicago continues to suffer from less-than-qualified domestic workers,” Wilhelmine began, “if we could return to your story, as the hour is growing late and I have a charity event to attend first thing tomorrow morning, that would be wonderful.” Her eyes took to twinkling. “And not that I care to tell you how to go about telling a story, darling, but perhaps it would move matters along more rapidly if you began not from the moment you got out of bed, but from when events began to turn harrowing for you.”
“You know if I hadn’t started from when I got out of bed, someone would have interrupted me and asked me what I ate for breakfast.”
“Everyone knows what you eat for breakfast. Two slices of toast, two eggs over easy, coffee, and occasionally you’ll add a bowl of fruit, but usually only on Saturdays.”
“I’ve always wondered why you only eat eggs over easy,” Coraline said. “Is it that you enjoy the yolks being a little runny, which would explain why you don’t ask for hard-boiled eggs, or even scrambled?”
“We are not going to launch into a discussion of the many ways Rhenick could eat eggs, not when he has yet to explain more about this lady who sent him into a discombobulated state,” Tilda said firmly.
“You’re the one who distracted him with the whole valet topic,” Coraline didn’t hesitate to point out.
A narrowed eye from Wilhelmine left his sisters abandoning their bickering, which left him free to launch into his story, garnering everyone’s undivided attention when he got to the part of his day where he encountered a redhaired lady dashing out of the Merriweather castle with a ferret in tow.
Before he could get to the part about the cloaked woman, though, one of their housemaids, Charity, lumbered into the room, pushing a coffee cart that seemed to have a faulty wheel on it, the wheel obviously responsible for why the cart crashed into a table. Rhenick was on his feet a second later, scooping one of his mother’s favorite vases out of the air before it had a chance to smash to the ground.
After setting the vase on a table that was far removed from the cart, Rhenick sent Charity, who was now looking more than frazzled, a smile before he asked her to return to the kitchen because she’d forgotten the teapot and Tilda had never been keen on coffee.
As Charity moseyed her way out of the room, clearly in no hurry to fetch the tea, Rhenick took it upon himself to serve his mother and sisters, save Tilda, a cup of coffee before he poured a cup for himself and retook his seat.
“Where were we?” he asked.
“The appearance of a redhaired lady and a ferret,” Eloise supplied.
Rhenick took a sip of coffee that gave new meaning to the wordstrong, then set the cup on a saucer that was sporting a rather large chip in it. “Quite right, but before any of you decide that the redhaired lady is why I had a harrowing time of it today, she’s not—well, not really, although her ferret does play a role in that, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”
