Page 45 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
“My father is going to spit bullets,” Ned observed. He grimaced again. “I wish I knew where Dickon is. I hope he is safe and well. I know he seems a bit gruff, but he’s a good fellow, really. Deep down. And he saved my life, Hal, coming to find you. Could he come to stay, too? If we can find him?”
“Young Deffew?” Snowy asked. “I have a watcher on Snowden’s house. He has seen no sign of your friend, who seems to have made a very efficient disappearance. As to living with us, that is a bit trickier since he is your father’s ward. Your father has no right to demand that you return home, but every right to say where his ward will live.”
Margaret reflected that convicting Snowden of his crimes would remove that barrier, but any trial would take time to reach a verdict, even if it could be proved that Snowden must be tried as a commoner. More so if he was tried as a peer.
Ned’s face fell. “It is nearly a year until Dickon is twenty-one.” His thoughts must have tracked with Margaret’s, for a light came into his eyes and he added, “Did the valet say who hired him to kill you?”
Margaret’s gasp was echoed by Pauline. “Your valet tried to kill you?” Margaret asked.
The two men explained what had happened. Margaret shuddered at the thought of how close it had been. If Snowy had let the valet shave him. If he had dressed in another room. If the paper weight had not been handy, or had been any other shape, or of a lighter material. If Ned was not an expert bowler.
“Unfortunately, we may never know for whom he was working,” Snowy said. “I received word from Bow Street that, when he recovered consciousness, he was put into a cell with other prisoners to wait for questioning. When they came to him, he was dead. One of the other prisoners had throttled him.”
Ned asked what Margaret was thinking. “Who hired the throttler?”
Snowy shrugged. “The man claims he didn’t like the way the valet looked at him. He is up on charges of killing people for the resurrection trade, so I imagine he figures he has nothing to lose. They are investigating whether anyone might have got word to him to kill the valet, but it’s hard to see what he would get out of it.”
“You will be careful, Snowy, won’t you?” Margaret said.
*
The next morning,Ned was up bright and early, eager to prove he was well enough to be allowed to move on. Certainly, the cuts that had been infected were now scabbing over and looked clean and healthy, and his bruises had faded to green and yellow.
Margaret invited him downstairs to have breakfast with her and Pauline.
They were still at breakfast when Regina Ashby arrived, following Bowen into the breakfast room without waiting to be announced. She smiled at Ned, who stood at her arrival. “Good morning, Mr. Snowden. I am glad to see you here.”
“Fetch another cup, please, Bowen,” Margaret said. “Something to eat, as well, Regina?”
Her friend took the chair between Margaret and Ned. “Just a cup of tea, thank you.”
“I take it you expected to find Ned here? Are there rumors?”
Regina shook her head. “No, but since Ash and Peter helped with the rescue, and the house they took Mr. Snowden to is now empty, this was my next pick.” She addressed the young man directly. “I likeNedbetter thanChalky,” she said.
“You were looking for him?” Margaret asked.
Regina accepted the cup that Bowen brought with a smile and a thank you. “I will pour for myself,” she said. “Please do not let me keep you from your duties.”
Bowen exchanged a glance with Margaret, who nodded. He left the room and shut the door firmly behind him.
Regina leaned forward. “I am going to assume that Pauline is in your confidence, Margaret.”
Margaret and Pauline both agreed.
Regina turned to Ned. “Ned… May I call you Ned? We have taken on a new footman, by the name of Dickon. Elijah and I are retreating to the country for a few days, and Dickon will be going with us to stay at our estate for as long as needed. I came to see if you would like to go with him.”
Ned’s eyes were as round as saucers. “Dickon? My friend, Dickon?”
Regina nodded.
“I would never have dreamed he would go to you. After what happened between him and your son. After what I did to you.” He shook his head.
“Very smart of him,” Margaret acknowledged. “It is the last place anyone would look for him.”
“Precisely what Lord Andrew Winderfield thought when he suggested it,” Regina said. “Well, Ned? You won’t have to actually be a footman, of course. We think it best if you and Dickon use false names during your stay, but you will be at my son’s estate as our guests. It is far enough from London to keep you—and more to the point, Dickon—safe from your father.”
What Regina and her husband proposed was that Ned, dressed in the footman’s livery she had brought with her, should be taken up by the Ashby traveling carriage later this morning.
