Brydie
Rubbing her gloved hands—shehadn’t splattered a single drop on the lovely silk—Brydie glanced around the simply but elegantly furnished withdrawing room.It was smaller than the grandiose formal parlor.She had seen it under less formal circumstances and would have loved to drift aimlessly about, admiring the artwork.But she didn’t belong here with the fashionably garbed ladies.
Now that Minerva had arrived, dressed as the lady she was, Brydie gathered her courage to admit to Clare, “I fear I have been of very little use in determining if any of your guests are villains.”She had been an utter failure, in fact.
“Ah, but blotting Lord Chatham’s sartorial magnificence was a moment of great enlightenment and entertainment,” her hostess said with amusement.“I don’t believe I knew some of the words he uttered.I mean to consult Hunt on their definitions.”
The lech had deserved the dousing.His comments belonged in a brothel, not a dinner table, no matter how foxed he was.And once he touched her thigh...Brydie did not regret heraccident.
“We really need to start enforcing the cursing fines.Had I been present, I might have collected enough to replace one of the chapel’s bench pillows.”Arriving in time to hear this last, Minerva didn’t smile, which meant she hadn’t learned much either.
Brydie was too overwrought to be amused.What if her failure meant harm might come to the orphans?“I am not sorry for dumping wine on his fine linen.He was insulting and deserved it.But it made him disinclined to speak to me again, especially with Damien glowering from across the table.I lack finesse.”It had certainly not been one of her finer moments.
“I daresay once Damien has his hands on him, your fiancé will lack finesse as well—one of the many reasons ladies withdraw after dinner.”Clare gestured at her guests whispering in groups about the room.“And did you see my charming husband seize Mr.Watson by the neckcloth and physically haul him back to the table when he attempted to follow Lavender?Some people simply must learn the hard way.Did Chatham have a particular target for his licentious tongue?”
“Among other insults, he thought Lavender should be grateful for his attentions since she is baseborn and probably no better than her mother.”Brydie had been more furious about that than his groping.Spilling the wine had allowed her to continue eating without punching the lecherous beast.
“He appeared to be quite pickled,” Clare suggested.“Perhaps he didn’t realize what he was saying?”
Brydie’s fault as well.“I spurned his dissolute attentions and questioned his lack of intelligence, which had him calling for more wine.Eventually, he talked to Watson around me and perhaps thought I was deaf and dumb.I cannot say that dining with gentlemen was much more educational than drinking at the tavern.”
Minerva shrugged her elegantly-clad shoulders.“I could have told you that.Men aren’t always polite at the kitchen table, either, but there is less to drink.Clare, do you know if Chatham’s title is territorial or family?”
“I have no idea.I steer away from the unattached louts.Why?”
The subjects of titles was not one Brydie had cared to learn.“It’s been a long day.Unless you suspect any of your lady guests, I think I should like to see how Verity and the children fare.”
“Wise choice,” Clare agreed.“I will linger to help Hunt sort out the drunken gentlemen should they dare to join us.I cannot believe any of them intelligent enough to plot murder, but it’s best if you are upstairs, just in case you’re next on their list.”Casting a glance to the room’s occupants, she drifted off to consult with Patience, plotting social warfare.
“I will join you shortly,” Minerva said.“I have a few more questions I’d like to ask before giving up for the evening.”
Brydie would very much have liked to see Damien first, but the men might spend hours at the table.He was bent on acquiring clients as well as questioning possible criminals and wouldn’t leave until the last drop was drunk.She wouldn’t wait for him.She knew her own way.
She said her good-nights, and with the idea of showing off her new gown and returning Verity’s belongings, Brydie climbed the marble stairs to the family floor.She met Kate sitting under a sconce in the corridor, hemming a uniform.“What on earth?Do you wish to ruin your eyes?Is there no room for you to sleep in this maze of space?”
Kate’s lips tightened.“Someone jammed the attic door.Rafe has set traps but I’m to warn you and Minerva or anyone else who might have a right to take those stairs so you don’t set off alarms.Verity is likely to come after you with a knife.”
“This is no way to live.”In disgust, Brydie gazed around the late earl’s echoing, dark corridors of ancient paintings and gilded sconces.“The single gentlemen are housed in that wing.They are all foxed.You can’t sit here, blocking their way, in hopes of catching a criminal.Where is your room?”
“Next to yours, just down the other side of the guest hall, too far from the attic stairs to hear anything.”Kate stood and led the way to the intersection of the main corridor and the guest hall.“The loft over the ballroom is through that door.I thought about sitting there, out of sight, but there is no light.”
Brydie peered in at the loft railing.“Good for heaving drunken men over, but that’s just more work to clean up.”
Kate snickered.“I thought the same.You look lovely in that gown.We need to make you a wedding gown in that pattern.”
“First, we need to cry banns,” Brydie said dryly.“Go to bed, get some sleep.I’ll go upstairs, check on everyone, then wait down here to warn Minerva.Do we give three knocks and a whistle to be allowed in?”
Kate laughed at mention of their old signal.“Avoid the trip wire, hold the bells hanging on the latch, and whistle at Wolfie.”
“Nice.Go to bed.You need to save your eyes for better uses than uniforms.”Brydie waited until her older sister traipsed down the hall.Kate would be old before her time if they did not find a better way to earn a living.They couldn’t expect Damien to support her and the children.
Taking the stairs and following instructions, she patted the wolfhound on his big head and called softly, “It’s just me.Are you awake, Verity?”
In shirtsleeves, Mr.Birdwhistle peered out one door.Across the hall, Verity, in her nightgown and wrapper, peered from the other.“Any news?”she asked when Brydie stepped over the wire and the guard dog.
“Nothing.The manor has some obnoxious London guests.Minerva is still downstairs questioning the ladies.I sent Kate to bed.All quiet here?”Brydie handed the necklace to Verity and tried to return the beautiful shawl, but Verity waved it away.
“Knit me a sturdy wool one sometime, in a quiet blue or brown, if you will.Rafe is patrolling, but it’s been quiet.I assume everyone is at dinner, and it’s later that we must worry?”
