“I will indulge you, Nephew, since I doubt if you will take tea in this room again in the near future. But rest assured, as soon as the rest of the Watch arrives with my coach, we shall set out for Bedlam.”
“I protest this treatment,” Lord Northbury said. “I am of sound mind, and both my finances and the function of my house indicate that I am doing well. It is only by subterfuge that you will be able to take this step, Uncle Ronald.”
Tiffany and Michaels exchanged glances.
“What step?” Michaels mouthed.
Tiffany shook her head, and laid a finger across her lips. She edged to the wall beside the curtain, and found that she could see Lucas. Lucas clearly could see her, as well, because he made a small flick of his fingers beside his leg, and pointedly kept his eyes fixed on whatever was going on in the room.
“Your response saddens me greatly,” Lord Ronald opined. “If you go with Dr. Abslom quietly, he can help you.”
“That is an interesting way to put it,” Lord Northbury commented. “Oddly enough, I do not feel that I need help.”
“Oh, but you do, Nephew. You most certainly do.”
Tiffany opened her mouth to speak, but Michaels clapped a hand over her mouth, hugging her to him. They stared at each other with wide, terrified eyes. What could they do?
Chapter 54
Percival held his cup of tea, torn between a desire to throw the fragile vessel at his uncle’s head, and a growing sense of despair. On the one hand, throwing the cup would greatly relieve his growing frustration and fear, but on the other hand it would only give fuel to his uncle’s aspersions.
Instead, he said, “Sophie, would you please prepare another cup of tea for me? I would like two spoons of sugar, and a goodly dollop of cream. I find that since my head has ceased pounding, I have recovered my appetite. Do we have any cucumber sandwiches?”
“I am sorry, My Lord,” Sophie replied. “We have no proper bread for making sandwiches. We have pancakes and flatbread,” she added hopefully.
“Now, do you see, Nephew?” Lord Ronald put in. “Your household is not running smoothly.”
“It was doing very well, Uncle Ronald, until you came home. I am not sure what madness you brought with you, but nothing has gone well since your visit began.”
“Surely you are not blaming me for your injuries?” Lord Ronald put on an air of offended pride.
“Not at all. But I do blame you for disrupting my household, and trying to foist an incompetent cook upon me. To say nothing of running off the first good cook we have had in ages.”
“I am not to blame that the girl took it in her head to run. I told you from the outset about attempting to educate and elevate a guttersnipe to serving maid.”
Since Percival could not remember precisely why Tiffany had run away, he did not have a good riposte to this verbal thrust, but instead pretended to sip his tea. Pretended, because even though his friends were now alert, he feared to drink it lest there be something besides good sugar and cream added to the cup.
Just as he was beginning to fear that he had truly reached the end of his ability to keep his uncle engaged in conversation, there came a bustle at the door.
“Ah, there you are, My Lord,” Constable Brooks greeted the room in a cheerful, overly loud voice. “I feared the worst when Dr. Hardwick and I discovered McClellan in the vestibule with only Grace in attendance.”
“Dr. Hardwick is with him?” Percival asked, relief coloring his voice.
“Yes, My Lord, and most disturbed that Mr. McClellan should have been left lying on the floor in such a condition.”
“Well, he should be disturbed,” Percival said, setting down the cup of tea. “How is McClellan?”
“Weak, lucid, and furious, My Lord. He had a great deal to say about manners and rude scoundrels.” Constable Brooks looked around the room. “I say, what did happen?”
“I’m afraid I cannot answer that, Constable Brooks. I have been entertaining my Uncle Ronald, who has some interesting ideas about my future.”
“Does he, indeed, My Lord? Is that why everyone is gathered here in your private withdrawing room?”
“I have been trying to persuade Lord Northbury to accompany me to Bedlam,” Lord Ronald said with dignity.
“Why ever would he want to do that?” Constable Brooks asked. “He took a thump on the noggin and a stab to the back. Nothing in that to make a man lose his mind.”
“Ah, but there you are wrong, Constable,” Dr. Abslom put in. “A blow to the head can not only make a man lose his mind, but even change the tenor of his personality.”
