Page 49 of Unmasked by the Marquess
“A goose? At this time of year?” Louisa asked.
“That’s what I said to Mr. Trout. But he said the Quality may eat geese twelve months a year, for all we know. And if his lordship means for me to kill it and cook it for your supper...”
“No, indeed.” It was Louisa who answered, Charity being quite overset by the idea of Alistair acquiring a goose. “I’m quite certain he means it as a present for you and Mr. Trout.”
Charity wasn’t sure at all. Alistair was far more likely to consider a goose as dinner rather than livestock. But she didn’t want to help kill or pluck the goose, so she didn’t argue.
“Well,” Mrs. Trout said. “That’s kind of him, and after he gave me all those coins last night, too. He didn’t even count them out, but I did, and it was two pounds, five shillings, and sixpence. It goes to show, I told Mr. Trout, that even though his lordship has a face like he smelled something terrible, you can’t judge from appearances. I’m sure the gentleman can’t help what he looks like, now, can he?”
Stunned, and in alarming danger of succumbing to fits of laughter, Charity stepped outside for a turn around the barnyard while Louisa and their hostess discussed the care and keeping of poultry.
Really, it was provoking that at such a short distance from London, one could find no traces of civilization. Gilbert might as well have turned his carriage over in the middle of the Pyrenees or on the surface of the moon.
After confirming that Gilbert was as well as could be expected, but had been given a sleeping draught and therefore could not be removed from the doctor’s house until the morrow, Alistair retired to an inn that hardly even aspired to mediocrity. There was a large coaching inn a few miles north, and another a few miles south, at either of which Alistair could likely find a bed that he wouldn’t need to share with fleas or mice, but if he wanted to be within an easy walk of Charity and Gilbert, he would need to stay at the godforsaken Duck and Dragon.
He woke at dawn and took himself to the market town of Biggleswade, which, after a night in Little Hatley, now took on the appearance of a thriving metropolis. He posted several letters, visited the dressmaker and bookshop, conducted a few errands of his own, and returned to Little Hatley to collect Gilbert from the doctor’s house.
Gilbert, climbing into Alistair’s curricle, looked like the cat who got the cream. Nobody who had managed to overturn his carriage on such a useless stretch of road ought to look so smug, especially with his arm in a sling.
“What in God’s name were you thinking, running off with that girl?” Alistair offered by way of greeting. “Do you really think me some kind of Bluebeard, luring innocent girls to their doom?”
“I didn’t know what to think,” Gilbert replied with infuriating calm. “You were behaving in a dashed odd manner, and you always seemed to be deep in conversation with Selby. When I asked you what you were doing at the Selbys’ house the other day, you said you had proposed marriage, and that you didn’t consider Louisa’s opinion of any importance.”
“And so I don’t. I have no intention of marrying her and never have.”
“Well, I know thatnow. You’re after Selby. Or Miss Church, rather. Whatever she’s calling herself.” He paused, his mouth open, his finger poised in the air, as if suddenly realizing something. “Or himself?” He shrugged. “Can’t say I understand the half of it, but if it doesn’t bother Louisa it’s no business of mine.”
“Quite right. I did ask Miss Church to marry me, but she feels disinclined, so I’ll beg you not to mention it overmuch.”
Gilbert patted Alistair’s knee in a manner he doubtless thought comforting. “Why are you covered in feathers?”
“That’s from the goose.” A frightful animal, that goose had been, and it had been the devil’s own work to get it into the curricle. “Where is the aunt?” was the only question Alistair allowed himself to ask about the elopement.
“Oh, we left her with an acquaintance in Hampstead.”
Astonishing. It was coming to seem that Robin was the most reliably levelheaded member of the family. “She didn’t feel that her niece might benefit from a chaperone?”
“She said it didn’t matter since we were eloping anyway, and that my carriage bounced too much for her comfort.”
“Were you aware that, in order to clear the way for Miss Selby’s escape, she dosed Miss Church with laudanum?”
“What? Of course not. And Louisa can’t possibly have known, either. She would never have allowed such a thing.”
Alistair supposed he’d have to fetch the old witch from Hampstead at the same time he acquired a special license to marry these two young fools; that way the bride would have at least one relation present. It occurred to him that any idea he might have once had of using the Selbys to discourage people looking for favors had gone up in smoke in the most spectacular way. By the time this was through, he’d have spent a small fortune and gone quite thoroughly out of his way to oblige Robin and her family.
“What are you laughing about?” Gilbert asked.
“The best laid plans, little brother.”
Chapter Sixteen
From the small window of Louisa’s upstairs room, Charity watched an ancient-looking chaise-and-four pull into the dooryard. She ran outside in time to watch an elderly woman, of approximately the same vintage as the carriage that had conveyed her, alight from the vehicle.
“This, I dearly hope, is the Trout residence,” the woman said in tones of patient weariness. “I’ve been this entire day on the road, and such a road it is.”
“This is the Trout farm and I’m Charity Church. May I ask—”
“Oh, yes, my dear. You’re the one I’m supposed to ask for.” She was short and stout, with iron-gray hair and a traveling costume of much the same shade. “His lordship sent for me to look after the young lady. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to be set down from a carriage.” She looked doubtfully at her surroundings and seemed to rethink her relief. “Do you suppose these people have tea?”
