Page 85 of Henrietta

‘And don’t think I wouldn’t discuss that in my sermons!’ Timothy said with some spirit, which proved too much for Trixie – she let out a peal of laughter. Timothy regarded her in some disgust. ‘I don’t see what is so amusing.’

‘Perhaps she cannot imagine you in a vicar’s garb,’ Arthur theorised.

‘Not colours that suit me,’ Timothy conceded. ‘Well … I shall still give up my lodgings, I think. I know you said it might not help, but it would not feel right to spend money such a way. Besides, fond of you all,’ he added rather stiffly. ‘Wouldn’t mind being about the place more.’

Arthur reached out to clasp him upon the shoulder. ‘Nor would I.’

‘If you have everything so in hand,’ Trixie interrupted them in her loftiest voice. ‘I am not sure it was prudent in you to have ordered so many doves for the ball.’

‘What?’ Arthur said, hand falling away from Timothy’s shoulder.

‘I saw them arriving, just now,’ she said. ‘In the courtyard. Mama said they cost upwards of thirty guineas.’

‘How much?’ He made for the door at once. Trixie watched him go rather contemplatively.

‘Do you think there was something … odd, about all that?’ she asked to her brother.

‘Certainly,’ Timothy said. ‘Wildlife at a ball? Mama’s lost her senses. I shall have to intervene.’

Arthur would never have guessed that Timothy – inventor of the Allerton Flop – would become such a champion for economy, but over the next few days, he was to succeed where Arthur had failed.

‘Themes are not elegant,’ he told Lady Allerton severely. ‘I am heartily sick of them – you’d do far better to hold a simple assembly at this time.’

It was a point that struck Lady Allerton – who had opted for an avian theme – so much that she cancelled the doves, the menagerie of peacocks, and even the order of a great feathered cloak.

It was pleasing, and galling, in equal measure. ‘This is what I have been saying to her for weeks!’ Arthur protested. ‘An ordinary ball will serve—’

‘It will not be an ordinary ball, Arthur,’ Timothy told him severely. ‘It will be an Allerton ball.’

They were at the races, in the company of half of the ton, who had made the journey down to Ascot in the wake of the allied sovereigns who were being hosted in the Royal Enclosure by the Prince Regent himself. He was watching, with every apparent sign of enjoyment, as the most celebrated horses of the kingdom competed on the green turf below. Those who had lain bets endeavoured to maintain some decorum – there would not be, in such illustrious company, any of the shouts that could frequently be heard on such occasions.

‘No fire-masters, or birds, or expensive plants,’ Arthur carried on, rather dreamily. ‘I had scarce thought to hope for such forbearance.’

‘Though her obsession with the guest list has only increased,’ Trixie warned. ‘Don’t look now, but she has cornered the Grandduchess at last.’

‘Oh Lord. Well – I suppose it is now or never,’ Arthur said, for the ball was the following night. ‘How is it looking?’

‘Her Grace is nodding,’ Trixie reported, eyes over Arthur’s shoulder. ‘Smiling – ah, no!’

‘What?’

Trixie sighed. ‘She’s turning away. It looks as if she’s heading for the refreshment table.’

Arthur grimaced. ‘A fob-off.’ For such an illustrious person did not fetch her own drinks unless she needed an excuse. ‘Mama will be so disappointed.’

‘Yes, she looks a little defeated – but wait.’ Trixie stilled, cocking her head. ‘She’s thinking,’ Trixie murmured. ‘She’s thinking and – yes, she’s back in pursuit.’

‘No!’

‘She’s swift,’ Timothy put in now. ‘Faster than the Grandduchess.’

Arthur’s face was alight with amusement. ‘Is she gaining?’

‘She’s gaining,’ Trixie said. ‘She’s gaining.’

‘The Grandduchess has been waylaid by Lady Sefton – with luck on Mama’s side, yes, and a shortcut around the string quartet …’

‘Go on,’ Arthur urged.