Rainbird was the first to spring from the stricken trance that had frozen them all. He ran to the door of the servants" hall, wrenched it open, and stumbled up the stairs after Fiona.
"Thank you, miss," he babbled. "Oh, thank you."
"Do not sound so surprised, Mr. Rainbird," said Fiona severely. "I told you I would find you the money." She opened the door to the hall and disappeared through it.
Rainbird went slowly down the stairs. He hardly heard anything Joseph said, Joseph who was holding forth about the attack. As he spoke, Seamus became larger and stronger until he was quite seven feet high.
"Well, Lizzie," said Rainbird when Joseph had finally talked himself dry. "It seems miracles do happen. There"ll be a new gown for you after this."
"Oh, thank you," cried Lizzie, but she looked at Joseph as she spoke and not at Rainbird.
Alice raised her well-rounded arms to pat the b.u.t.tery curls under her lace cap. "It do seem to me," she said slowly, "as how Miss Fiona is a most unusual lady."
"After this, I would do anything for her," said dark and intense Jenny fiercely. "Anything."
"Oh, the dishes I will prepare for them," sang MacGregor. "The sauces, the jellies, the cakes."
Mrs. Middleton opened the basket and carefully began to arrange the cakes and sandwiches on plates. "Of course, I knew she was a real lady as soon as I set eyes on her," she said.
Dave stretched out a little hand and took a pink fondant cake ornamented with an iced cherub. "Coo"er," he said. "Don"t it look too pretty to eat!"
"That"s enough of that," said Rainbird, slapping hishand. "You wait until your betters have had first choice, young man."
They slowly resumed their places at table but this time in the correct order. They were real servants again and not an odd sort of family, bound together by poverty.
Lizzie sat at the end of the table next to Jim. She hoped the others would leave her at least one of the cherub cakes.
Upstairs Mr. Sinclair was still goggling and exclaiming over the money and Fiona"s tale of gambling. "You"re a downy one," he said finally, bursting out laughing and slapping his knee. "Lor", I"d give a monkey to see Lady Disher"s face. But mark my words, she sent one of her servants after you to seize that money back. You must never go there again. D"ye hear?"
"Yes, Papa. I hear," said Fiona meekly. "I am very tired. Please forgive me. I must go to bed."
It was only after she had left that Mr. Sinclair remembered he had not asked her whether she had stage-managed the whole thing. Fiona was either a very lucky innocent or a very cunning young woman indeed!
CHAPTER.
Six.
The only talent I could ever discover in this beau (George Brummell) was that of having well-fashioned the character of a gentleman, and proved himself a tolerably good actor; yet, to a nice observer, a certain impenetrable, unnatural stiffness of manner proved him but nature"s journeyman after all; but then his wig-his new French wig-was nature itself.
-Harriette Wilson"s Memoirs Mr. Sinclair was surprised to receive a call from the Earl of Harrington the following afternoon. Fiona had disappeared to "a little tea party" with Mrs. Carrington. Mrs. Carrington had in fact called to lure Fiona to a new gaming house for ladies in St. James"s where Mrs. Carrington was allowed free refreshments if she brought in new blood. Although she was still a very wealthy woman despite losing thousands at the tables, Mrs. Carrington prided herself on her economy-which meant saving on everything other than cards.
For some reason Fiona had not told Mr. Sinclair where she was going, or rather she did not give the lie to Mrs. Carrington"s mendacious statement that it was nothing more than a ladies" tea party.
On seeing the earl again, Mr. Sinclair thought afresh that his poor Fiona had certainly no hope in that quarter. The earl looked hard and handsome and austere. He seemed almost relieved to learn that Fiona was gone from home, merely saying with chilly civility that he had come to present his compliments to the Sinclairs and make sure there had been no further a.s.saults.
Mr. Sinclair a.s.sured him there had not, and then, to the earl"s extreme irritation, added with surprise, "Gossip certainly travels fast in London. How did you come to learn of the attack on Fiona so soon?"
"I was there," said Lord Harrington frostily. "In fact, I pursued the a.s.sailant and subsequently entertained Miss Sinclair to refreshments in my home."
"She didnae say a word to me," said Mr. Sinclair. "Ah, weel, it probably slipped her wee mind."
Not knowing Mr. Sinclair became more Scottish in accent and bluff of manner when he was embarra.s.sed or distressed, Lord Harrington began to feel that his rank and fortune were as of little consequence to Mr. Sinclair as they were to his daughter. He asked Mr. Sinclair many polite questions about his London experiences and began to form a picture of a lonely old man who was longing to return to Scotland as soon as possible.
The refreshments offered him were surprising in view of Mr. Sinclair"s reputation as a miser. The wine was of the best, and the cakes were as light as thistledown.
"Shall I see Miss Sinclair at Almack"s?" he asked, rising at last to take his leave.
"I should not think she would get vouchers," said Mr. Sinclair. "I have only just applied, but I do not know any of the patronesses of the a.s.sembly rooms and the Season has already started."
"Perhaps I might be able to do something to help," said the earl lightly, and then cursed himself as soon as the words were out because he was sure he had no wish to know the Sinclairs further. He was just making his way out of the door when he remembered what Fiona had said that had so tantalised him.
"What orphanage?" asked the earl abruptly.
The effect of his words on Mr. Sinclair was startling. The old man clutched at his heart and turned a muddy colour.
"My dear Sinclair," exclaimed the earl, helping him into an armchair. "Whatever has happened?"
"Naethin," gasped Mr. Sinclair. "My heart is weak. You had best go, my lord."
"Let me at least ring for a servant."
"No, no!" cried Mr. Sinclair so desperately that Lord Harrington felt the old man would have a seizure if he did not take his leave.
There was a mystery about the Sinclairs, thought the earl, as he made his way out of Clarges Street and across Piccadilly to Green Park. Lord Harrington had property in East Lothian in Scotland. He decided to write to his lawyers in Edinburgh and ask them to find out all they could about a certain Mr. Roderick Sinclair and his daughter, Fiona.
He was bound to find out something unsavoury about their background and discover the girl was quite unsuitable. Unsuitable for what? jeered a voice in his head. He walked more quickly as if to escape it. He was glad Fiona had been out. He was sure he was glad. The weather had turned bra.s.sy and hot. Most unusual in England. That must be the reason he was feeling so flat.
When Fiona returned, Mr. Sinclair, who had meant to chide her for not having told him about her visit to Lord Harrington, who had meant to demand why the earl had asked about an orphanage, was completely thrown by the sight of the amount of money Fiona pulled out of her reticule.
"You"ll get us both killed," he gasped. "You"ve been gambling again."
"And so I have. And how exhausted I am," Fiona replied, sighing. "It"s no use looking cross, Papa. I cannot help it if it is the fashion to invite me to tea and then almost force me to play cards. Ugh! What leathery ladies! They were quite furious with me for winning so much. I cannot understand it. The ones who were not playing with me lost thousands anyway."
"Were you cheating again?"
"Oh, no," said Fiona, opening her eyes very wide. "Cheating is sinful."
"There"s enough here, more than enough to keep us," said Mr. Sinclair. "Don"t play anymore. I feel it is dangerous. Look here, gambling isn"t natural in women. It turns them vicious."
"I will give Mr. Rainbird some more money for the staff," said Fiona. "Poor things. They have so little."
"You haven"t been spoiling them?" asked Mr. Sinclair.
"No. Grateful servants can be so useful."
"You having been used to servants all your life," sneered Mr. Sinclair.
Fiona yawned and did not reply.
"Harrington was here," said Mr. Sinclair. Fiona showed no interest.
"He nearly gave me the apoplexy. He turned as he was leaving and asked, "What orphanage?" "
"And what explanation did he give for having asked such an odd question?"
"None. I was that upset. What were you saying to him, la.s.sie?"
Fiona wrinkled her brow. "I was merely wondering why no one in society discussed anything of importance with me-like politics or the war or anything."
"Here! Don"t start getting clever. There"s nothing your tonnish fellow dislikes more than a clever female."
Fiona laughed. "You are always calling me addlepated. Stupidity does not seem to please you."
"Never mind about me. The gentlemen consider it a fine thing in a woman. Harrington is no exception. I have heard it said he detests clever women," said Mr. Sinclair, who had heard nothing of the sort, but was sure Fiona would dim her hopes of marriage if she suddenly decided to pretend to be intelligent.
Fiona went quite still. Her eyes narrowed a fraction. Then she said, "I feel sure you will find Lord Harrington did not say anything about an orphanage. We are both so worried about being found out that it is only natural we should sometimes hear the wrong thing."
"Aye, but-" began Mr. Sinclair.
"Have you dined?" interrupted Fiona.
"I was waiting for you."
"Alas. I have eaten so many cakes and biscuits and sandwiches, I cannot eat any more."
"That Highland cook has been banging the pots and sweating all day, or so Rainbird tells me. For pity"s sake, try to eat something."
"Very well," said Fiona. "I do not like to waste food."
Dinner proved to be a work of art. The first course consisted of fish with oyster sauce, soup and fowls, roast beef and vegetables; the second of Ragout a la Francaise, celery, game, cauliflower, macaroni, pastry, and cream; the dessert of walnuts, apples, raisins, almonds, pears, oranges, and cakes.
A waistcoat b.u.t.ton popped from the front of Mr. Sinclair"s stomach and shot across the room like a bullet as he slowly digested the last bit of cake.
"You have done justice to an excellent dinner, Papa," said Fiona. "I hope my lack of appet.i.te will go unnoticed."
"That MacGregor is a genius." Mr. Sinclair sighed. "We had best invite some people and show off his skill."
"You will lose your reputation of being a miser. Besides, perhaps I will not marry-and what will we live on when we return to Scotland?" said Fiona.
"You will marry all right," said Mr. Sinclair. "Our first social engagement is in a few days" time. The Bas...o...b..s" rout. Keep silly ideas about Harrington out of your c.o.c.kloft and we will do very well."
Mr. Sinclair began to prose on, trying to give Fiona the benefit of his wisdom. He had culled as much gossip as he could from the callers about who was important and who was not. "Keep clear of that Brummell," he cautioned. "He can be dangerous if he takes you in dislike." His voice went on and on, and it was some time before he realised to his annoyance that Fiona had fallen fast asleep in her chair. He shook her awake and ordered her off to bed.
"And what will you do?" yawned Fiona.
"I"ll take a bit of a walk in the park," said Mr. Sinclair. "I haven"t been out of the house all day."
Fiona went up to her room and sat by the window until she heard the street door slam and saw the foreshortened figure of Mr. Sinclair trudging down the street.
Then she rang the bell.
A loud yawn outside heralded the arrival of Jenny, the chambermaid. Like Fiona, the servants were all suffering from an unaccustomed surfeit of food.
"Miss?" queried Jenny, stifling another ma.s.sive yawn.
"Fetch Mr. Rainbird," said Fiona. Her usually gentle voice was almost curt.
Jenny scurried off, wondering what had upset the normally placid Miss Fiona. After a few moments, Rainbird appeared in the doorway.
"Come in, Mr. Rainbird," said Fiona, "and sit down. Close the door behind you."
Rainbird did as he was bid and then sat down on a chair beside the empty hearth while Fiona took the one opposite. Both of them wriggled a bit on the hard, lumpy upholstery to get comfortable. The servants of Number 67 Clarges Street had, in the past, tried to augment their small income by removing the stuffing from the beds and furniture upholstery and selling it. Every chair and bed in the house now had an oddly depleted appearance.
Fiona handed Rainbird a pile of notes and coin. He took the money, but protested as he looked at the large amount he held in his hands.
"You have been more than generous, miss," he said. "I do not need all this."
"You will find the money very useful," said Fiona, looking half asleep.
"Yes, it will help to pay for new curtains," said Rainbird with a twinkle in his eye. The servants had managed to detect where the curtains had gone.
"Yes, indeed," said Fiona. "And it will also serve to buy back the stuffing for the chairs and beds."
Rainbird had the grace to blush.
"Now, Mr. Rainbird," said Fiona, leaning forward. "Before I tell you what I really want you to do for me, I must insist that no more lavish meals be served in this house. You forget that Mr. Sinclair is a miser, and I do not wish him upset by signs of overindulgence."
"MacGregor will be in sore distress," said Rainbird. "He was beginning to enjoy using all his skills again."
"Then he may practise them in the servants" hall," said Fiona. "I do not care what you spend on food so long as none of it appears upstairs. One course of an evening followed by fruit will be enough for Mr. Sinclair and myself. Do not pamper the guests with good wine and those delicious cakes. The cheapest you can find will do for them. Why do you stay on here on such miserable wages?"
Rainbird avoided her candid gaze. He could tell her that Palmer had refused to give the girls references, but he did not want to tell her the scandal about Joseph and himself. He felt she would not understand.
"We have become used to working together," he said, after a pause. "We are like a family."
She nodded, but there was something in her manner that made Rainbird feel uncomfortable. It was hard to realise it was only pretty Miss Fiona sitting in front of him. The air crackled about him as if he were trapped in the room with an outsized, dominating personality with a will of iron.
"You wish me to perform some service for you?" asked Rainbird to divert her mind from the subject of their wages.
"Yes," said Fiona. "I want you to get Lord Harrington for me."