Page 42 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 12

My Lady,

Thank you for your letter. An intriguing proposition, to be sure. Is it possible for you to give me a little more detail regarding the venture you wish to embark on so I might come fully prepared for our meeting?

Sadly, my appointments next week are all taken, however, I can call on Wednesday week, if this suits you.

Might I enquire who our mutual friend is?

I await your reply.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr Felix Knight (son of Mr Gabriel and Lady Helena Knight) to The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown.

25th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire border.

Leo looked down at the bed where Vi still slept peacefully and wondered if he would ever have the privilege of seeing her so again. Would he ever be so fortunate as to share a bed with her again, even if it was only to hold her in his arms? God, he hoped so, but he was afraid his legendary luck had finally run out.

“Stay,” he told Mau firmly, giving his friend a rub under the chin that made the big cat purr contentedly.

He went out, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Good morning, Mr Huntington.”

Leo turned, smiling at Jenny and pleased to see she was none the worse for last night’s adventures.

“Good morning, Jenny. I’m glad to see you, I wanted to check you didn’t get in any trouble last night.”

“No, sir, though I thank you for the thought, but Reverend Harbottle made it all square with Mrs Caruthers. Though she didn’t like it none, I can tell you,” she added with a snort.

“I can imagine,” Leo replied with a grimace. “Mrs Huntington is still sleeping, but I asked for a doctor—”

“Yes, sir, I know, begging your pardon. Dr Benson will be here at ten thirty. He attended a difficult birth last night and can’t be here earlier than that, I’m afraid.”

“Very well. In the meantime, would you take Mrs Huntington some breakfast? Something light. Boiled eggs, perhaps. I seem to remember that’s what I was prescribed whenever I clouted my head,” he added with a frown. “And some willow bark tea, she’s bound to have the headache still this morning. If you could see your way clear to feeding Mau too, I’d appreciate it. A quick trip to the garden would likely be just as well, if you can manage it.”

Leo fished in his pocket and handed Jenny a generous tip for her trouble.

“Very good, sir. Thank you. I’ll see to it, don’t worry. Shall I take Mrs Huntington’s gown back for cleaning and pressing, too?”

Leo nodded his agreement. “Oh, but Jenny… give it back to her before I return at your peril, if the two of you are plotting any more madness together.”

Jenny laughed. “Yes, sir, Mr Huntington.”

With Vi and Mau taken care of for the moment, Leo hurried down the stairs and swallowed a cup of coffee as he waited for the grooms to put his horse to the tilbury. The moment they were ready, he left and arrived outside the reverend’s house at precisely nine o’clock.

“Ah, Mr Hunt, I suspected I would see you bright and early this morning,” Harbottle said as he opened the front door. “Excuse my state of undress, but I had rather a late night,” he said with a quirk of his lips.

“Forgive me for the early call,” Leo replied, a little stunned by the garish dressing gown the vicar wore. It was made of heavy saffron yellow satin, and richly embroidered in bright red, green and blue. It showed signs of wear now but was still an impressive garment for your average country vicar. Harbottle really was quite a character and Leo wondered if he had travelled in his youth, India perhaps. If things were different Leo thought he would enjoy chatting to the fellow. As it was, he needed to ensure Vi’s reputation was safe.

“Have you had breakfast?”

“I had coffee,” Leo replied, following Harbottle into a small dining room. The vicar paused on the way, sticking his head around what Leo guessed to be the kitchen door in order to call inside.

“Mrs Jenkins, I have a guest. Breakfast for two, if you please?”

“Very good, sir.” A disembodied female voice replied to this instruction.

“My housekeeper, Mrs Jenkins. A wonderful cook. You’ll be well fed,” Harbottle assured Leo with a toothy grin as he patted his own belly. “I eat far better than I ought to,” he added with a sigh.