"My nerves are absolutely crackling this morning," confessed Juliet as they descended the narrow path to the sea. “Since my brother and Lord Aylesford still think your brother had something to do with the tampered spirits, I think your brother is going to suspect them in this plot. It was actually good fortune for us that the dye joke fell on them, causing them to suspect a LOO member and not look for another culprit."
Miranda's face broke out in a diabolical smile and she laughed with unbridled glee. "I cannot wait to see the look on Jonas' face after he has to make his way back to the house au naturelle and fuming. I wonder which lord he will accuse first. I just hope I am around to see it all unfold, just as occurred at breakfast two days past."
They rode for a little over an hour before hunger began to get the best of them and they turned back for the manor. Reaching the stables, Juliet dismounted and began to brush Hera's coat after the groom removed the saddle, all the while softly crooning her mare's chosen name interspersed with words of affection and pride. The white coat of her mount took on a sleek shine with her ministrations. When Miranda was ready to leave, she grabbed Juliet's arm so they could walk back together. Reaching the house, they heard some noises from the breakfast area as they made for their rooms. Steaming baths awaited them, having had the foresight to ask their maids to have them ready one hour after their early morning departure. Quickly bathing and changing, they met again at the foot of the main staircase before entering for their meal.
The two best friends skidded to a halt when they saw the Duke lazily sipping his coffee while talking to Juliet's father. They quickly glanced at each other, their widened eyes and assessing stares silently encouraging the other to act as if nothing were amiss despite the flushed cheeks on both their faces. Straightening their shoulders and stiffening their backs, they entered the room and made for the food-laden sideboard.
"What is my brother doing here?" hissed Miranda as she distractedly selected some pastry for her plate.
"More importantly, who will be forced to make the naked trek in return from your pond?" responded Juliet.
They finished making their plates and took seats across from Capt. Hughes and Maj. Quinn. Casting a nonchalant glance around the table, Juliet ascertained the Marquis of Stafford was absent from breakfast. Her mind took immediate note that his hair and build were similar to the Duke, and she began to feel an uneasy and somewhat queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She put down her fork to sip her tea and calm her nerves.
"Stafford is missing this morning," she whispered behind her cup.
"Oh, bugger. I wonder how this will play out?" Miranda squirmed slightly in her seat.
The Duchess took advantage of the quiet as everyone ate to announce an entertainment for the day. "I have asked the kitchen to prepare a cold picnic lunch for our party this afternoon. I thought we all might take a walk to the berry fields and spend a lazy afternoon in this beautiful weather. I have also arranged for archery for those who have an interest."
A round of affirmation went up from the group and the topic of conversation rambled from mundane ideas to specific goals for the outing. Plans were tossing around when Hastings entered and spoke to the Duke in whispered tones. Jonas jumped up to look out the window, muttering a mild expletive, retaking his seat after giving Hastings some quiet instructions. Before the butler could leave, the Marquis of Stafford loomed in the doorway, clad in nothing save a saddle blanket draped around his body and his still glossy, knee-high boots.
"I should like to speak with you, Your Grace," the Marquis spat out through gritted teeth. "It seems I am the victim of a prank meant for you." Juliet and Miranda blanched at the accusation. The Duke rose from his seat to accompany Stafford out of the room, but not before the gaping witnesses could hear his final statement. "I shall have my revenge on those bounders Aylesford and Bristol."
Chapter Twenty-Two
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act 3, Scene 4
The Duke motioned to Hastings as he and Stafford exited the dining room. “Please tell Earls Bristol and Aylesford and the Marquis of Hertford to come to my study.” He turned to call out to the Marquis of Stafford's departing back. “Roman, I do not think our friends are behind this so I ask you to cool your temper as you clean up. We will await you in the study and get to the bottom of this.”
Jonas entered his study and stopped to run his hand through his hair as his mind raced. As he thought about the two follies that had occurred, he was convinced the wrong people had been victimized. He should have been swimming this morning, as was his routine. At the last minute he had received a note from his steward at the ducal estate in Kent and turned back from the stables, leaving Stafford to ride alone, insisting he exercise Paladin in his stead. He should have taken the drinks from the tampered bottle of port. Because he was hosting this ridiculous party, he had been too busy to do aught but work while in his study, and certainly had no leisure to settle in with a drink.
He walked over to the window and saw his sister and Lady Juliet all but running across the lawn and into the gardens when a flash of insight burst into his mind. Those two must have schemed to play jokes on him, for unknown reasons, but his change of plans each time had caused other individuals to become the recipients of the gags. He was convinced he now knew the perpetrators. All that remained was to figure out the grounds for their dodges.
“Has Stafford cooled down a bit or should we hide until you can calm him?” asked the Earl of Aylesford warily as he strolled into the study. The Earl of Bristol and Marquis of Hertford followed soon after, shutting the door behind them. Jonas turned from his preoccupation at the window to face his friends.
“I sent him up to change with the warning that he needed to compose himself and consider that others were at work in his folly,” the Duke answered.
“If it's all the same, I'd still rather he be checked for weapons when he joins us,” joked Bristol.
The Duke grinned briefly and walked around to the decanters behind his desk. “It's quite early, gentlemen, but anyone need some fortification? 'Tis a new bottle of port, of course,” he added, winking at Bristol and Aylesford, “or some brandy for those of you still squeamish at the thought of port.”
“I'll let someone else take the first draught and just check the condition of their teeth, if you don't mind. If all's well, pour me a portion, and do not be stingy with it. And this better be the good stuff,” responded Aylesford. “That stuff we drank was sweet and thick.”
The Marquis of Stafford threw open the door with a bang and entered with fire in his eyes and a grim expression on his face, causing the room full of lords collectively to jump in surprise. His hair was still wet but he no longer smelled of horse blanket nor pond and was thankfully clothed in his usual understated elegance. “Save the good stuff till we find out what is going on around here,” he suggested with a growl.
“Stafford, I told you other forces were at work here so keep up!” yelled the Duke, so startled by the loud entrance that he nearly dropped the decanter from which he poured. He grabbed a fifth glass and filled them all half-full. “Everyone grab a glass and a seat and let's figure this all out.”
Each gentleman did as they were told, with Hertford passing around cheroots, grabbing a Chinese jostic from a shelf to light their small cigars. When all were settled, puffing and drinking, the Duke began.
“Gentlemen, I promised you entertainment while suffering in the country with me, and I believe it has begun. The object of this little soirée was to find my sister a suitable husband, to which she has been vehemently opposed. I think she decided to thwart me, in her own maniacal way, by pulling pranks on me. Unfortunately, I neither drank my typical glass of spirits before bed nor rode and swam this morning, again, as was my habit. My deviation from the routine left the jokes to fall on you all, my friends.”
Hertford shifted in his seat and propped his feet on th
e low table located in the middle of the seating area. “As nothing has happened to me I can truly appreciate the devious genius behind these pranks. I, myself, would love to know what she did to make the port discolor your teeth so well. I should like to try that out at White's some night.” He raised his glass in a mock salute to Bristol and Aylesford as he puffed on his cheroot then blew out a perfect ring. “Stealing clothes while someone swims is very schoolroom, but the blue mouths that Aylesford and Bristol sported were bang on.”
Aylesford jumped up quickly and grabbed Hertford's cheroot from between his teeth and snuffed it out in the Marquis's drink, earning the Earl a condemnation for ruining both a good smoke and a good brandy.
“As I was saying,” began the Duke again, “my sister, and I am reasonably sure Lady Juliet, have been busy trying to gull me. What I cannot figure out is to what purpose.”
“My sister would do whatever your sister asked her to do,” offered Bristol, “and would be right there in the thick of it to plan and execute a good jape.”
Stafford leaned forward and quickly stole Aylesford's cheroot for himself before reclining once again in his seat. “If the two ladies are indeed responsible for these happenings, I would assume it's in retaliation for the marriage mart you and the Duchess have set up for Lady Miranda. We know your sister wants another season, and we all heard how Lady Juliet feels about marriage.”
“Speaking of which, I was damned sorry to hear Lady Juliet's feelings about the ol' parson's mousetrap. If you'll excuse my saying so, Bristol, she's as clever as she is beautiful. If she weren't your sister, I might be in a fair way to pursue her,” confessed Hertford.
“I'm of the same opinion,” chimed Aylesford. “I noticed her fine form at Lady Partridge's kick-off ball and lamented she would be off limits. Not that I am succumbing, but I did not mind the thought.”
Bristol sat up straighter in his seat, slamming his glass on the table to reply when the Duke jumped in. “Do not lose focus on this conversation, gentlemen, and do not trouble yourselves to think anything more of Lady Juliet and her many attributes. You would do well to remember she is off limits to your eyes as well as your thoughts.” He cleared his throat, mentally acknowledging the irony of his statement, and continued. “Let us concentrate on how to address the problem of these pranks. I am sure more are in store as they have yet to succeed in trapping me. Any ideas?”
The lords started tossing out ideas for revenge and retribution in a mad frenzy, save for the Earl of Bristol. He sat back in his chair again, drink in hand, and contemplated the Duke's defense of his sister. After watching the heat flare in Jonas' eyes and his issuing of such stern warnings, Bristol began to consider that the Duke might in fact have more than a protective interest toward his sister. He filed the revelation away for further contemplation as he observed the Duke shrewdly.
Jonas held up his hand for silence. “I do not want to wade into battle as yet. I propose a little reconnaissance to see if they have something in train.”
“The easiest thing for us to do is always be aware of your location and not leave you alone. We also need to watch to see where the ladies go whenever they leave the main group. I move we nominate Bristol to watch over his sister and Lady Miranda,” volunteered Hertford.
“All those in favor,” asked Aylesford. After hearing the resounding calls of 'aye' he determined the motion carried and the subject closed, moving quickly to trap his friend with that particularly odious and difficult job. “Very good. Bristol is in charge of knowing his sister's, and Lady Miranda's whereabouts at all times. The rest of us will make sure someone is always with Dorset, with eyes and ears open as well.”
“Bloody hell, but I got the short end of this just because she's my sister,” complained Bristol. “I don't think we're at the pinch of the game yet so I'll be a nervous cat by the party's end, no doubt.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
William Shakespeare, Timon of Athens, Act 1, Scene 2
Juliet and Miranda made their excuses and left the breakfast table for the isolation of the garden as soon as the Duke left the room. Finding their favorite bench by the fountain and small pond, they shared worried glances.
“I would be remiss if I did not point out that the Marquis filled out that blanket very well, but why oh why is it so difficult to pull a prank with any success?” wailed Miranda. “It seems the more fool-proof we strive to make it, the more likely it is to fail.”
“I hate to say this, but maybe it is because of the fools trying to pull the prank. Face it, Randa, we are out of our league trying to pull off something on this grand a scale. Instead of talking with him rationally, like the adult you claim to be, you decided to embark on this multifaceted plan to embarrass him.” Juliet held her hand up to stop Miranda before she could interrupt. “Hear me out, dearest. I take my full responsibility as well because I have been a willing participant in these devilries, but we must now face the truth: we are terrible at this. And, upon further reckoning I fail to see how these pranks will sway him to leave you alone. However, all I am suggesting is perhaps you should have tried to reason with your brother, and even your mother, about his expectations of you, your pin money, your hobbies, and your future marriage.”
“I did, Jules, I swear it! He would have nothing of it. I approached Mama but she only deferred to Jonas as the 'head of this family.' And since when did you become my brother's defender? You know how sanctimonious and controlling he is. You've grown up right beside him as well as I.”
Juliet arched her brow and glared at her best friend. “I am not your brother's defender, but I am beginning to doubt the worthiness and end results of our schemes. Based on the reactions we have observed so far, we are going to start a riot amongst the Lords of Oxford, and when they find out we are the cause of the trouble I think our true punishment will be worse than we can imagine. Think on this: Your brother has thrown a house party, when he hates parties above all things, in an attempt to allow you to choose a husband. I grant you that he did not consult you on the guest list, but he thinks your tastes too shallow and that you are not serious about a husband. Is he wrong?”
Miranda served her own icy glare right back at Juliet. “I dislike the word shallow. I prefer to think my tastes run to fun and lighthearted gentlemen, those who are not inclined to marry at this point, which is in alignment with my feelings. And, of course, you are correct that I am not serious about a husband. Why should I be? I am merely twenty. I am not on the shelf and have at least two more years before marriage is the only option, surely.”
“You know you do not have to convince me to support you in postponing marriage, but more importantly, please remember I will support you no matter what your decision. I think we need to re-evaluate the approach we are taking toward your brother. Honestly, I never considered what the outcome of these pranks would be. Do you think he will change his mind about finding a husband for you? Will he think you too clever by far and leave you to your own devices? I am beginning to doubt the success of our plans. I am afraid the opposite may occur, that he may withdraw your ability to choose in the matter of marriage and decide the matter wholly himself.”
Miranda slowly smiled and grabbed Juliet's nearest hand. She brought it to her heart and squeezed gently. “Thank you for saying you will support me. And while I know my views on matrimony are nowhere near as 'radical' as yours, I am frustrated that Jonas feels I need to marry right this instant. I only ask for another Season to enjoy being unattached, flirting and being my own mistress, so to speak.”
“Then that is what you should tell him. And since you have had difficulty getting him to listen to you in the past, I suggest a letter.” Miranda snorted at this. “You scoff, but at least he will learn your reasons and you can meet on level ground when next you speak.”
Miranda tilted her head as she thought over Julie
t's suggestion. “You may be correct that he will read my note, hopefully in its entirety, but I doubt anything equitable will come of it.”
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