“One who is afraid, Uncle Ronald. I am not sure I would stay about after such an event.”
“Harrumph,” Lord Ronald growled. “It is a fine mess you’ve made of things, Nephew. Well, I shall see to it that there will be no more of it until you are up and about, well able to care for yourself. I’ve had my man move my things into my old room.”
“You should not go to such trouble, Uncle.”
“It is no trouble, no trouble at all, Nephew.”
“Thank you, Uncle Ronald. But if you would not find me unduly lacking in civility, I beg you leave me now to my valet. You may tell me ‘I told you so’ all you wish tomorrow. Tonight, my head still aches abominably.”
“No more than you deserve, you young fool. I heard from my physician that you refused laudanum.”
“Yes, Uncle. It gives me unbearable dreams and upsets my stomach. Please, if you care for me at all, go, and let me rest.”
“Very well, Nephew, but we are not finished with this.”
Lord Ronald rose, and moved unhurriedly toward the door. When he reached it, he turned and said, “I have put an end to handing out alms at the kitchen door. And I have sent for Jones. You will need a cook. I am sure the household will be on a more even keel when he is reinstated.”
“Uncle! You did not!” Percival half rose from his chair and sank back, holding one hand to his head.
“Tomorrow, Nephew. We shall speak more on this tomorrow.”
With that, Lord Ronald went out, closing the door behind him.
Smithers hurried to Percival. “My Lord! Have a care, your head . . .”
“Yes, Smithers, my head, indeed. Send someone down to Mr. Wilson, and have him come up at once. I will not have Jones back in the kitchen, no matter what my Uncle says.”
“Certainly, My Lord,” Smithers said, tugging on the bell rope. “Someone will go at once. Meanwhile, rest a little and have some more of the tea that Dr. Hardwick left. He was most specific about not allowing you to excite yourself.”
“Trust me on this, Smithers, I shall be a great deal more at ease after I speak with Mr. Wilson. I will not have Jones back in the kitchen. I’ll ask him to find a replacement, lest we be forced to live on beans and bully beef.”
“Beans and bully beef, My Lord?” Smithers raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Michaels’ specialties, as you well know, Smithers.”
His valet laughed. “Indeed, My Lord. I am relieved to see that you have retained your sense of humor.”
Just then there came a tap at the door, and Lucas appeared. “You rang, My Lord?”
“I did, Lucas. Fetch Mr. Wilson to me if you would, please. Wake him if necessary.”
“At once, My Lord.”
“What are you thinking, My Lord?” Smithers asked after Lucas had departed.
“I am not really sure, Smithers. Of one thing I am certain, I will not have Jones back in our kitchen. Once sure way to forestall that from happening is to hire a different cook, posthaste. In addition, I wish to ask Mr. Wilson to draw up papers preventing my uncle from taking control of my household.”
“Do you suspect him of something, My Lord?” Smithers asked, somewhat alarmed.
“Oh, no, Smithers. Well, nothing more than being a managing old worrywart, and he is all of that. I’ve grown quite used to having the household run in a particular way, and I do not wish to change back.”
“Quite so, My Lord. And very sensible of you, I might add, if you do not think it too forward.”
“I am pleased that you concur with my way of thinking, Smithers. I have no desire for the household to become ill thanks to a poorly kept kitchen.”
“I am both gratified and relieved to hear you say so, My Lord. I was quite astonished that you sent Miss Tiffany away, if I might be so bold as to say so.”
“You may speak freely, Smithers. But if I sent Miss Tiffany away, it was for her own safety. I fear I do not recall what happened between my late tea and that unfortunate physician digging about in my shoulder. But until we have this matter of who harmed me settled, my uncle will be looking for a scapegoat. I probably should have sent Michaels away, too, but we must have someone who can prepare meals.”
