Page 71 of Lady Dramatic
Roland sat up a little straighter. They’d just assumed that Charles would be back on his way to the continent to lick his wounds and haunt whatever gaming establishment he frequented there. They did not positively know that, though. And if Charles had decided to stick around, even knowing the Duke of Pelham was on to his ruse…what would he do?
What he would do was come up with another scheme. That’s what Charles would do. He’d attempt to prove the duke wrong about him somehow. And just this minute, Lady Serenity’s dog had unaccountably gone missing.
Roland leapt from his chair. “I think it might have been Charles,” he said.
“What might have been?” Quinn asked.
“Nelson. I think it might have been Charles who took him.”
Roland could see Quinn’s mind working through the idea.
“You see it, don’t you?” Roland said. “He could be a hero if he returned Nelson. But in order to do that, he’d have to take Nelson.”
Quinn tented his fingers. “It is a possibility, though you cannot be certain. Charles is reckless, but this would be beyond the pale.”
“I can be certain if I go and find it out, which is exactly what I’m going to do. Don’t bother calling for my horse, I’ll go to the stables myself.”
“Be careful,” Quinn said. “You never know with your brother’s temper.”
Roland nodded, as Quinn lived in fear that one day the two brothers would end firing on one another on a green. He did not imagine it would ever come to that, though. For one, Roland would never challenge Charles and cause such disrespect and upset to his duke. For another, Charles would not challengehim, as he would have the choice of weapons and would demand swords. Charles could not out-fence him and he knew it. Roland would not kill him, but he would rip his younger brother’s shirt to shreds to make his point. Charles, for whatever else he got up to, would not put himself in the position to be humiliated in front of the seconds looking upon such a scene.
Roland strode out of the room, out the doors, and down the mews. If Charles had Nelson, that dog would shortly be returned home.
*
Serenity had beenput to bed in the afternoon and as Mrs. Right had put some laudanum in her tea, she had slept for a few hours. It had not lasted, though, and as soon as she’d woken, she’d hurried down the stairs to be with her sisters.
The drawing room had been a rather grim scene, as all in the house were fretting over Nelson. Her eldest sisters had come to hold vigil and were determined to stay over and be on hand for the morrow. That was when they would discover if Lord Thorpe’s reward had enticed someone to return Nelson.
The duke had made a terrific effort to cheer them, claiming every person in Town would be searching their little corner of London for a sight of Nelson in order to collect the reward.
Lord Stanford had eventually turned up, even though Patience had written him that she was perfectly well and must stay with her sisters. Serenity imagined he’d thought he might take his newly pregnant bride home, but he was speedily apprised that would not be the case. Therefore, he’d settled into the drawing room with the rest of them, looking exceedingly uncomfortable over all the weeping but keeping a sharp eye on his wife’s comfort. Nobody but Serenity yet knew what possessed the fellow, though Valor mentioned that she found his love-staring sickening.
Now they’d gone into the dining room to half-heartedly consume whatever the cook had managed to put together. They did not expect much, as the down stairs of the house was just as fretful as the above stairs over the disappearance of Nelson.
“Seems to be a broth of some kind,” the duke said, staring into the soup urn.
Thomas, who was at the sideboard and looking greatly affected by the events of the day, said, “Made from bones from the butcher that were to go to Nelson. Cook makes him a special broth to put on his dinner. But he’s not here to have it!”
“I see,” the duke said quietly, “we’re to have the dog’s bone broth.”
Charlie came into the dining room, having checked outside the doors again. He’d been doing the same every few minutes all day. He shook his head sadly to indicate there was no sign of Nelson.
This set half the table weeping again. Once the sobs began to quiet, Valor said, “Papa, does a person get hanged for stealing a dog?”
“I doubt it,” the duke said. “Very hard to prove, in any case.”
Valor shook her head in disgust. “If I were a judge, I would hang anybody who stole a dog. I would hang anybody who even one timethoughtabout stealing a dog. I would hang all the people who knew about the person who thought about stealing a dog. Or even heard about it in the shops!”
“And the bodies pile up,” the duke said with a smile.
“Why would anybody talk about stealing dogs in the shops?” Winsome asked.
“People talk about everything in the shops,” Valor said. “Mrs. Right took us to get gloves and ribbons and two ladies talked the whole time we were there. They said Lady Gentian, whoever she is, wore a terrible puce colored dress to Mrs. Maybee’s musical evening and her daughter was clunky on the pianoforte and really should those people be invited anywhere? We had to leave before I found out.”
“It’s a very common thing,” Verity said, “to denounce people while shopping.”
Serenity did not know if that were true or not. But she thought it might be true.
