Page 8 of One Perfect Dance
Pierre Mitterrand, who had been employed as guide and translator for the French leg of the tour, claimed that he never suffered frommal de merand he was convinced no one of character needed to do so.
Beckham and Mitterrand were also middle-aged men, and all three seemed to think that their age advantage allowed them to treat their employer as if he was a willful schoolboy and they his fond uncles.
Three hefty individuals had been sent along to act as guards, drivers, footmen, porters, and whatever else was needed. They did not express an opinion.
Nor did Elijah, who had already decided that his dual roles as secretary and friend did not include telling Lord Arthur what he should and should not do.
His lordship listened politely, smiled sweetly, and suggested that the three gentlemen need not worry about him, as he was very well, and enjoying watching the coastline of England as they sailed by.
The three men-of-all-work went below. The other three stayed, hovering in the vicinity of the duke’s son, and occasionally rephrasing and re-presenting their advice. Elijah, who had no wish to trade the views and the sea air for the cramped quarters below deck, took a seat a short distance away, but stayed out of the conversation.
As his advisers continued to try to persuade Lord Arthur, he dismissed them all politely, but with a thread of steel in his tone and expression. “Thank you, gentlemen, for your concern. If you prove to be right, I give you free license to say that you told me so. Meanwhile, I wish to have private conversation with my secretary. Please, go below or stay above, as you wish, but go away. If I need anyone of you, I will send for you.”
Perhaps the fractious waters the ship had reached aided Lord Arthur’s exercise of authority. Certainly, Beckham and Mitterrand showed the slight green cast to their skin that hinted at an uncomfortable digestive system. They retreated, Smith and Mitterrand to go below, and Beckham to apply his own prescription and move as far forward along the ship’s rails as he could.
Elijah moved closer to his new employer. “You wish to speak with me, my lord?”
“I wished to be free of my nannies, at least for a few minutes.” Lord Arthur grinned. “I’m surprised it worked. If I had tried that in England, they would have threatened me with my mother or His Grace. I suppose they could do so by post, but the sanction loses some of its effect when the appealed-to authority cannot thunder into the room within the half-hour.”
“They appear protective,” Elijah observed.
Lord Arthur sighed. “I cannot even be annoyed at them. They are merely carrying out my parents’ wishes. And what of you, Mr. Ashby? Are you going to remind me to wrap up warm, warn me against staying out after midnight, object when I want to stroll through the streets of a strange town?”
Elijah shrugged. “I have been employed to be your secretary, my lord, not your minder.”
Lord Arthur waved a dismissive hand. “I am not sure I need a secretary. And from what I heard about you last night, I don’t know if you can give me what I do need. I have moved a little in Society since I recovered from a long illness a year ago, but I know almost nothing of the rest of the world, and you have spent your last few years in London and before that in a village no one has heard of. And I certainly do not need another minder.”
Elijah wondered how to reply. Even the little he’d seen of Lord Arthur’s domestic tyrants had engaged his sympathy for the man. Besides, his lordship was correct. Their Graces were not close at hand and were getting further away by the minute. In the months to come, when Lord Arthur won his battle for independence, Elijah would like to still have a job. “The gentleman who interviewed me implied that your parents had kept you close, my lord. He said you needed an ally of your own age. A friend, if it so pleases you.” Inveterate honesty prompted him to add, “He also suggested you might benefit from what he was pleased to call mycommon sense.”
“My father’s secretary. It’s thanks to him and the doctor I’ve been able to make this trip. My parents can’t quite believe in my good health. But Fitz told His Grace that I had to be allowed to grow up somewhere my mother did not fuss about each little thing, and the doctor said travel would be good for me.” He shifted over slightly on his bench and patted the place beside him. “Sit down, man. Tell me about yourself.”
Elijah obeyed the first injunction but wasn’t quite sure what to say to the next. “There is not much to tell, my lord.”
Lord Arthur’s sigh was impatient. “You cannot go my lording me all the time, Ashby. You’ve been hired to be my friend, have you not? Friends call one another by nicknames, or so I have observed. Let me see. I shall call you… Ash. A useful tree. Unassuming but strong, flexible, and durable. It is excellent for cricket bats.” He cocked an eyebrow, a smile lurking around one corner of his mouth, and waited for Elijah to react.
“Am I to give you a nickname?” Elijah asked. “Artie, then.” It should be Artful, for the young lord was as artful as could be, manipulating those around him to get what he wanted. Elijah didn’t blame Artie for it when he had been so hedged about. Time would tell if he’d continue to try to bend Elijah to his will. Elijah would back himself, if his lordship made the attempt.
“Not Artie,” the young aristocrat objected. “My family calls me Artie. Makes me feel five years old.”
Elijah thought for a moment. “Rex then.Rex quondam, Rexque Futurus.”
He met his employer’s gaze, dead pan.
Lord Arthur gave a crack of laughter. “The once and future king. Perfect.” He gave a nod. “Rex and Ash.
“Very well, then. Are you up for some food? I could eat a horse! All this sea air.”
*
All through themorning the day after the ball, the butler was kept busy receiving bouquet after bouquet of flowers from those who had danced with Regina, and even some who asked too late to secure a place, but who declared their hopes of winning that privilege next time.
None from Elijah, but, as Regina checked each card, she assured herself he had no opportunity.
Where would he be now? Free of the Thames, she supposed, somewhere out to sea. Gone, probably for years. Once again, for perhaps the tenth time that morning, she consigned Elijah to her past. It was not, after all, as if he could ever have been a suitor.
Regina did not have time to think about Elijah more than two or three times an hour for the rest of the day. First, her mother was anxious to re-examine every moment of the previous evening. Regina waited for the scold over walking with Elijah rather than dancing with Lord Arthur, but Mama was inclined to be philosophical. “No one knew who he was, but he was with Lord Arthur, so I daresay they will assume he is someone of consequence who, like the poor young lord, has been kept out of public sight.”
She paused to think about that, and added, “I must say Lord Arthur did not look like an invalid. But everyone says the doctors despaired of his life, and that he is being sent overseas for his health. Either that, or the illness left him a half-wit, and he is being exiled to hide that fact from Society. But I must say he did not seem a half-wit to me.”
