The butler was young, as butlers went—about forty. He bowed slightly. “I’m afraid the family is out of town at present, sir.”
“No, we’re not,” Cal told him. “I’m Ashendon. This is my house. And you are?”
“Burton, my lord, I’m terribly sorry, I—”
Cal waved his apologies aside. “Who hired you?”
“Mr. Phipps, your man of affairs, my lord.”
Cal handed the man his hat and coat. He should have known it. Phipps trod a fine line between being ultra-efficient and interfering. “I came to warn you to expect my wife, Lady Ashendon, and my wards, Lady Rose, Lady Lily and Lady Georgiana.”
The butler’s eyes widened slightly, but he said smoothly, “When do you anticipate they will arrive, my lord?”
Cal glanced at the hall clock. “Sometime this evening, I expect. Midmorning tomorrow at the latest.”
“Very good, my lord. The staff will be in readiness.”
“There is a staff, is there?”
“Yes, my lord, all new, like myself, but I fancy we are working well together. Shall I fetch them for an introduction?”
Cal waved off that suggestion. “No need. My wife will do all that. The running of the house is in her hands.”
Burton inclined his head. “Do you require anything at present, my lord?”
“No. I just dropped in to let you know to expect the ladies. I’ll be going back out shortly.”
“What shall I tell Lady Salter, my lord?”
Cal blinked. “Aunt Agatha? Why, nothing, of course.” He frowned at the man’s expression. “What’s she got to do with anything?”
“It was Lady Salter who instructed Mr. Phipps to hire the staff for the house and prepare for your arrival. She didn’t know the date, of course, but she’s been checking up on us, and giving orders.”
Cal swore under his breath. Giving orders would be right. Nothing Aunt Agatha liked better.
“Is there a problem, my lord?”
“No, just—just don’t tell Lady Salter anything.”
Burton gave him a pained look. “She visits daily, my lord.”
“Daily?Good God!” Cal gave a hunted glance behind him. “Has she been here today?”
“This morning, my lord,” the butler said in a soothing voice. “She normally comes each morning around eleven.”
Cal made a note to be out of the house every morning around eleven. “I’m going out again now—I’m not sure whenI’ll be back. Is there a key?” Burton fetched him a key. Cal pocketed it and left.
***
“Robert and Joseph Gimble have no relatives listed, except for their wives,” Radcliffe said when Cal returned to Whitehall. He didn’t look unhappy, though.
“And the good news?” Cal asked.
Radcliffe tapped the file in front of him and allowed himself a small grin. “One of the wives listed a next of kin—”
“The two wives are sisters.”
“Exactly. And they have an aunt who lives in—wait for it—Whitechapel. She’s married to a weaver.”
