***
Jamie received an early reply from Dr Ingleton.
‘To Mr J Hammond, Staineybank, Brinshire. Jamie, your last raised some intriguing questions. Unfortunately, I have little information to impart. The Chamberlain name is an honourable one, deriving as it does from the office of state in royal and noble households. There is some connection with Dorsetshire, but of the Surrey Chamberlains I have no knowledge. They have certainly not crossed my path in my research. Of the Pendleton name, I know even less. I have some acquaintances who may know the Chamberlain family personally, so I will ask them, but I am not optimistic. I have been following all the scandals reported in the gossip-mongering newspapers for a number of years now, and it is not a name which has arisen, so it may be that the family is as respectable as your Mr Chamberlain claims. Perhaps you are looking for ghosts where none exist. I remain, your good friend, Joe Ingleton.’
He might indeed be looking for ghosts, but Jamie remained convinced that there was a very real reason for the mysterious Mr Goodenough to send Lance Chamberlain to Staineybank, and if it had nothing to do with Chamberlain himself, then it must necessarily relate to his unusual valet. Accordingly, when Jamie found himself alone in the breakfast parlour one morning with only the valet in attendance, he took the opportunity to prod a little.
“Pendleton, is it not?” he said, as the valet poured coffee for him.
“Yes, sir.”
“It is an unusual name. Cornish, is it?”
“I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Where is your family from?”
“Lancashire, sir.”
“Ah. So not Cornish, then. What part of Lancashire?”
The valet, who had been busy rearranging plates on the sideboard, now whirled around. “To what do these questions pertain?” he said icily.
“You are an interesting man, Pendleton,” Jamie said, eyeing him thoughtfully over the rim of his coffee cup. “A valet who is also an expert fencer. A valet who finds his way to Tuscany. A valet who asks‘To what do these questions pertain?’in a well-bred accent instead of‘Why do you want to know?’.A valet who appears reluctant to answer questions about himself.”
“Why should I?” Pendleton hissed. “What right do you have to poke around in my life?”
“I owe a duty to his grace to ensure that everyone entering his house is honest, for one thing,” Jamie said, setting down his cup carefully. “I have no idea whether you are honest or not but if you are not—”
Pendleton was in motion before Jamie could even formulate the thought. The valet grabbed him by the lapels and hoisted him bodily from his chair.
“Do noteverthreaten me!” he hissed, his face barely an inch from Jamie’s own. “I am not hurting you or your precious duke, so stop harassing me and leave me alone, you nasty little man!”
So saying, he released Jamie so abruptly that he bounced off the edge of the chair and ended in a heap on the floor. By the time Jamie had picked himself up and dusted himself down, Pendleton was gone, the door banging behind him as he went.
“Well, that was interesting,” Jamie murmured. “Time to brush up my Italian, I think.”
Jamie spent much of the day composing, with the aid of his ancient Italian grammar primer, a letter to an acquaintance in Florence who might remember Chamberlain from his time there. He would certainly know of the fencing school, and might shed some light on why an English valet would end up there.
This made him somewhat late for dinner, arriving just as everyone was moving through to the dining room, so he found himself placed between Hester and Godley. Not that they were, under normal circumstances, uncongenial company. Hester was always at her most relaxed at table, with the myriad housekeeping problems all dealt with or left to others, and nothing to do for the rest of the evening but eat, drink and play cards. Godley was at his most tedious when he sat beside a young, personable female, but with Jamie he was almost rational.
Tonight, however, Jamie would have been glad to sit near Mrs Hastings, to assure himself that she was not too downhearted by the return of the Paynes, but he could not even see her, apart from the occasional glimpse of her arm when Godley sat back in his chair. It was not until the ladies rose to withdraw that he caught sight of her face, and then she seemed a trifle pale, but calm.
He was reassured, and happy to let the conversation swirl about him. The men were desultory for once, and it was left to Chamberlain and Payne to entertain the company with their artistic talk. But just as it seemed that the duke was becoming restless and would rise to join the ladies, Payne coughed diffidently and said, a little pink about the cheeks, that he had an announcement to make. His wife —‘his dear Sophia’, as he called her — would be presenting the world with an infant next spring.
Jamie barely waited to add his congratulations before rushing through to the White Drawing Room. The ladies, who had clearly received the same happy news, were gathered in an excited huddle around Sophia. Jamie could see at a glance that Mrs Hastings was not one of the crowd. Of course she would not be! Naturally she would not stay to hear all the joyfuloutpourings when her heart must be torn asunder all over again. He must find her, and at once!
The merest glance informed him that she was not in the Music Room, the only other room equipped with candles and a fire this evening. She must have gone to her room. Normally, he would not even consider going there, for a lady’s bedchamber was no place for a single male, but this was not a normal occasion. She must be distressed and if he could alleviate her misery just a little, then he must do it, however unorthodox the method.
Pausing only to find a bottle of brandy and two glasses, he took the stairs two at a time, and made his way there. There was no answer to his knock. Very cautiously, manoeuvring a candle as well as the brandy and glasses, he opened the door a fraction and put his head round it.
There was a single candle lit, and no fire at all, but there was enough light to see her huddled form sitting on the floor by the window.
“Mrs Hastings? May I come in?”
She said nothing, but he took it as assent anyway, and inched his way in, setting his burdens down on a small table.
“Goodness, it is cold in here,” he said. “Let me light the fire, and then you will be warm. I have brought brandy, too.”
