I didn’t know what to do with Mr. Thackery. The only man I had to explain myself to was at Hamlin.
Fixing my powder wig, I closed my eyes and waited for the true games to begin. It wouldn’t be long before I knew if Jove or Agassou smiled on me at last.
* * *
In the drawing room, Busick sat at his desk with Lionel on his lap. This dance of getting the teary-eyed child to drink the pap milk was getting old. Patience should be here giving the boy what he wants.
Trying again, he tipped the pap boat to the babe’s mouth.
Lionel sucked down a little, then stuck his pink tongue out as if Busick had given him sour milk.
He sniffed the beverage in the pap dish, a long-necked vessel stretched like a gravy boat. It didn’t smell bad, but when did floury cow’s milk have an inviting scent?
“Come on, young man, you need to eat. Then you’ll grow up big and strong.”
“Duke.” Gantry paced from the pianoforte to the mirror and back. “Didn’t you have a woman employed for this?”
He did the trip again, back and forth, with a letter in his clenched fist. “I’m sure you had a woman for this.”
“No need for jests. She had an errand.”
“Both of them, Duke?”
“Someone had to go with her. Mrs. LaCroy Jordan couldn’t leave Hamlin by herself.”
“She’s a widow, not a single maiden. She can go places respectably by herself.”
Busick hadn’t thought of that.
The woman wasn’t forthcoming, and he didn’t want to show how concerned he was. Maybe he should’ve.
The major he sent to scout the countess’s leased house knocked at the open door.
With Lionel still sticking his tongue out, Busick didn’t stand and unsettle the boy more. “Come in.”
“Mrs. LaCroy remains inside with Lady Shrewsbury. But Mrs. St. Maur, she left with the barrister and an unidentified man about a half an hour ago.”
“Mrs. St. Maur? Do you have an idea where?”
The fellow had a bubbly look on his face. “To a gaming hell, Your Grace.”
“To gamble? I didn’t think that one had it in her. Good work, Major. Do you have someone watching the house?”
“Yes, my replacement showed.” The man pumped his fingers as if his arm was bothering him.
“You’ve done enough for today. You’re off duty.”
The man saluted, turned on his heel, and left.
Gantry poured a glass of brandy. He lifted the glass bottle high as if to make a show of the amber liquid, but merely sipped at it. “You let Mrs. La . . . Jordan, Mrs. Jordan go on her errand but are having her watched. Hmmm. Hypocrite.”
“How is that wrong? If she’s right that Markham is a threat, then she’ll benefit from my protection.”
Feeling quite satisfied with himself and his planning, he hummed and rocked until Lionel went to sleep. Busick was in a much better mood. His nanny didn’t go off debauching.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit wrong, that you and I are here watching your baby and the women who should be caring for this infant are gone, one even to a gaming hell?”
“Gantry,” he said in a whisper. “Could you get the basket?”
