Page 114 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘Not today,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I have too much to do.’

‘Perhaps Lady Phoebe could show me?’ Lydia persevered.

‘Oh, Waldo doesn’t permit me in his office,’ Lady Phoebe said.

‘You would only cause a mess,’ Sir Waldo said, spearing another sausage onto his plate. ‘Another time, Miss Hanworth.’

Frustrated, she rose from her seat to approach the nearby serving table, pretending to examine the plates of grilled ham and clusters of boiled eggs.

After a moment, Ashford joined her.

‘That was your plan?’ Ashford muttered. ‘Asking him?’

‘It’s better than you asking him,’ she whispered, keeping her voice very low as she accepted a fresh bread roll from a helpful footman. ‘Recollect he hates you now, because of the horse palaver.’

‘Oh, it’s palaver now, is it?’ Ashford said. ‘Yesterday you were all for anointing me a hero.’

‘I was not,’ she said.

‘We are meant to be a team,’ he hissed at her. ‘You are being careless and hot-headed and it is going to ruin everything.’

‘I suppose we should do it your way, should we?’ she hissed back. ‘Act on such bizarre and cautious logic that no one ever gets anything they actually want?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Ashford said.

The truce was not going so well.

They took their seats again in mulish silence until the party began to rise from the breakfast table – murmurs all around about enjoying a ride or a stroll or a rest ahead of the festivities.

‘You take a turn,’ she muttered, ‘if my ideas are so stupid.’

‘Well, I will,’ he muttered back. ‘Waldo!’

Waldo had already made it halfway back to the house, and Ashford strode purposefully after him, Lydia following as closely behind as she could, without looking as if she was doing so.

‘Waldo!’ Ashford called again.

‘What can I do for you old boy,’ Waldo said, so cheerfully that Lydia could hardly believe it. Did he not remember in what terms they had spoken yesterday?

‘I was wondering if we might speak, about yesterday,’ Ashford said.

‘Oh, no need, no need,’ Sir Waldo said, slapping him on the shoulder. ‘The heat of the day, no need to apologize.’

Oh, the gall of it! Despite her own frustrations towards him, Lydia felt a rush of anger on Ashford’s behalf.

‘Nonetheless I must,’ Ashford said, through gritted teeth. ‘Perhaps we might go somewhere to speak.’

‘Speak away,’ Waldo said.

‘Somewhere … private,’ Ashford said. ‘Your study.’

‘Perhaps later then, old boy,’ Sir Waldo said. ‘I’m afraid I promised my lady I would perform a full check of the grounds before tonight.’

He pulled out his pocket watch, to see the time and there, on the same chain, was a ring of glinting keys.

‘It is past midday,’ he said regretfully, placing the watch and the keys back inside his coat pocket.

Lydia scurried forward as fast as her legs could take her.