Enid sighed and nodded. “That it is, m’lady. I just do not like the thought of you getting all mixed up with a man who is so fond of the bottle.”
“If he is so fond of it that he is no help, or refuses to put the bottle down for a moment to help his sister, then I will look for someone else to help me in some way. But first, we try to find out if he is ignoring all messages or just those of his sister.”
“What if he is ignoring all messages?”
“We shall give him a fortnight to reply to the messages I intend to rain o’er his home, and, if he does not answer, I shall write one more and then we shall travel to Fieldgate to read it to him.”
Chapter 2
“This is a bachelor’s residence and no place for a young lady of quality.”
Olympia looked at the tall, thin butler blocking her way into Fieldgate Manor. She did not think she had ever seen a butler appear so stiff and outraged. When one considered Lord Mallam’s growing reputation for debauchery, she could understand the man’s reluctance to allow in a woman who probably looked far more respectable than most of Brant’s companions, but she had no time to cater to such delicate sensibilities.
A fortnight of ignored letters and messengers had passed since she had told young Agatha that she would help her. If Mallam lived in Yorkshire, she might have waited longer for a reply before acting, but Fieldgate was only a half day’s ride from London, even less if the journey was made on a fast horse or in a swift carriage. Olympia had fully adhered to her decision of one fortnight of waiting that she had made before sending out the first letter, but she had become more and more anxious as each missive remained unanswered. Agatha did not have the luxury of waiting any longer for her brother to pull himself out of the bottle or whatever woman he was currently entertaining to heed her cries for help.
“This is a family matter, my good man,” she said.
“You are not one of his family.”
“I come here as a chosen messenger from his sister as she is far too young to travel here herself.”
“Then you may tell me her message and I shall deliver it to his lordship.”
“I have wasted a fortnight trying to get a message to the man. He is either not getting any message sent here or he is disinclined to reply no matter who sends word.”
Something in the way the man’s eyes narrowed told Olympia she was facing the reason Brant continued to receive no word of his sister’s dilemma. As she calmly closed her parasol, she wondered what inspired this man to betray his lord. Money, most likely, she decided and then hit the man over the head with her parasol. He cursed, stumbled back a few steps clearing the doorway, and Olympia stepped forward to hit him again. The second blow sent the butler to the floor. She winced at the sound of the man’s head hitting the marble floor, but could not help but be pleased that he was now unconscious.
“Pawl,” she called, certain her footman and Enid were only steps away, and was not surprised when he immediately appeared at her side.
“Aye, m’lady?” He grinned when he got a good look at the felled butler.
“Do not allow that man to come after me.”
“Want I should knock him down again if he tries?”
“If you must. I believe he may be long overdue for such punishment for I begin to suspect he is the one who has been working against his lordship’s best interests.”
“Tsk. What is the world coming to, eh?”
She ignored Pawl’s nonsense as she tried to decide where to look for Brant first. She had not realized that Fieldgate was so large. The man could be in one of any of the dozens of rooms in the place. The longer it took her to find him, the more chance there was that there could be more interference from the servants. The butler might not be the only traitor at Fieldgate. She briefly considered standing there and yelling his name. Indelicate but usually quite effective.
“His lordship be in the library, m’lady.”
Olympia looked at the boy who spoke to her. He was a bit dirty and thinner than she thought he ought to be, but she saw no guile in his wide blue eyes. Instead, each glance the boy took at the fallen butler was filled with glee and satisfaction. The butler could be guilty of more than just being a traitor to his lordship.
“And you are?” she asked the boy.
“Thomas Pepper, m’lady,” he replied. “I be the boot boy.” He grimaced. “And sometimes I be the pot boy, sometimes the slops boy, sometimes . . .”