An Elaborate Hoax (A Gentlemen of Worth Book 5) (8 page)

“I cannot convey how much your cooperation means to me, ma’am.” He owed her a great debt, one without adequate compensation, he feared. “Despite Mrs. Sutton’s doubts about your existence—I was never so glad to prove anyone wrong. Can you imagine the impudence of that woman?”

“I suspect she had every reason to believe you did not have a wife. What proof was there before my arrival today?” There was a tinge of scold in Mrs. Parker’s voice.

“I couldn’t care less what Mrs. Sutton believes or does not believe.” David did not embark on this mad scheme for her benefit. “Your presence has meant the world to Gran, and that is what truly matters. She has made great strides in her recovery, and I do believe I have you to thank.”

Mrs. Parker turned from the rosebushes. Half of them had been pruned; no doubt the task would be completed tomorrow. “You say that as if it were a bad thing.”

“It is, no—it isn’t. I do wish her to improve, but . . .” How could he say this without sounding absolutely wretched? “You must own that her recovery will be problematic for us.”

“That is nonsense. I can think of nothing better.” She turned back toward the rosebushes, examining those that had been recently pruned. “Perhaps by that time these will have produced a floral welcome. I do believe she would like that above all things.”

“She would,” David agreed. They moved forward, walking parallel to those shrubs that had yet to be tidied. “And speaking about things others may like . . .” He cleared his throat. “I have arranged an outing for the children where they can forage for berries as you had asked.”

“
Arranged?
You mean for
you
and the children?” Mrs. Parker turned back around to stare at him. She had the most suspicious, disagreeable expression he had seen since . . . since . . . since Gran had leveled such a scold when he’d last displeased her.

He didn’t deserve it. David would change her mind, and she would regret whatever unpleasantness she’d been thinking. “Lucy and young Davy will be escorted through the orchard to the far side of the meadow beyond the small stream where lies a berry patch where they may have their fill of gathering, and sampling, Mother Nature’s sweet offerings.”

“They are to be escorted? You do not mean to accompany them, sir?” Her stern expression grew more so. “I do not begrudge you the help of footmen, but it is a journey you must take with them.”

David did not believe he was successful in altering her opinion of him in the least, not for the better, at any rate. “Me? Why must
I
. . . For heaven’s sake, they will come to no harm, I can assure you.”

“Of course I wish to keep them safe, but footmen alone cannot take them. It must be you.” Mrs. Parker did not appear angry, but she was most insistent.

“I beg your pardon?” What was she going on about? Why did it have to be him?

“
You
promised them, Mr. Cavanaugh.
You
.” She faced directly at him, gazing wide-eyed and becoming quite vexed. “This is not an errand you can discharge to any other. It was
your
childhood memory in which they wished to partake,
your
tales that inspired them.
You
must accompany Lucy and Davy.”

Never in his adult life did David feel the need to stomp about in anger, to demonstrate his acute displeasure. Until now. He did a most remarkable job restraining himself and replied, “And why is that?”

“If you wish to keep in the children’s good graces, I suggest you do your utmost to indulge them.”

Indulge
them? What a load of . . . nonsense. He was their godfather, they loved him, and he had every confidence they would do anything he asked. David was fairly certain, that is. He took a moment to consider what Mrs. Parker was saying. He did not have that much experience with children, other than the times he’d dropped in to play with Lucy and Davy. As to that, they were the only youngsters known to him. They had always been good-natured and happy. He was well aware that Mrs. Parker was much better acquainted with them than he.

“I
must
?” What if she was correct about this? David glanced about as if searching for an alternative. “Are you certain?”

“I am quite certain. You are the person who told the tales and promised them they would partake once they arrived. You must be the person to accompany them.”

David rubbed the back of his neck and wondered how he managed to get himself into these cursed situations.

“Do you not understand how much you ask of them?” Mrs. Parker continued as if she were his conscience. “They undertook this very long journey and must endure the absence of their other siblings and their parents.”

“Yes.” David understood well enough the difficulties.

“All they have is us. Nothing here is familiar. And until we return them to their real parents, we must make every effort to see to their comfort and well-being.”

“All right. All right.” David held up his hand in an effort to cease her lecturing. He thought all that was already taken care of. How could it possibly matter?

“If you think they can be easily convinced, you could not be more wrong,” she continued, even after he had admitted defeat. “There is no one more obstinate than a recalcitrant child who has made up his mind to be contrary. I advise you, sir, to do all you can to keep on their good side.” With that said, Mrs. Parker strolled on, leaving him standing among the unkempt rosebushes.

Chapter Seven

T
he following morning in her bedchamber, Penny sat on a firm cushioned chair near the hearth for light and warmth. To her left, the drapes were drawn back from the window, allowing the sunlight to shine through the trees on the east side of the house. She had forgotten how pleasant the early hours in the country were: the calm, the quiet, the peace.

On her lap, she stitched the torn hem of the dress she’d worn yesterday. Penny would not leave such a task to Amelia when the newly elevated lady’s maid had so many other duties to occupy her. In truth, Penny rather enjoyed plying the needle in meaningful occupation.

The shattering of porcelain against the wall behind her sent Penny out of her chair with an unrestrained cry and onto her feet. The scuffle of feet grew louder, and then the shouting began. At first it was a man’s voice, and a few moments later a second joined in. The dress she’d been mending fell to the ground in her haste to the corridor. She was soon joined by Mrs. Sutton.

“It’s Master David, I’m afraid,” the companion announced as she rushed to his bedchamber.

“What’s happened?” Penny did not understand but followed the companion.

“Master David? Mr. Hendricks?” Mrs. Sutton called through the door over her persistent knocking. Her voice grew louder, trying to be heard over those inside.

Good heavens, what a din! It was a good thing Grandmother Cavanaugh’s rooms were in the south wing of the house. This uproar would certainly disturb her.

“Sir! Please, sir!” a man’s muffled plea sounded behind the bedchamber door.

Mrs. Sutton waited no longer and burst into the room uninvited. Unfortunately Penny followed directly behind. She could only gasp and stare wide-eyed at the sight of Mr. Cavanaugh holding an ornamental figurine in his raised fist while still abed.

“You blasted feather-brained vermin!” He broke free from the clutches of his valet, who appeared to be doing his utmost to restrain his master. The porcelain figurine sailed across the room and out the open window. Hendricks’s expression of failure was evident.

No sooner had the first missile been propelled when Mr. Cavanaugh captured a second object, a cut glass vase by Penny’s quick assessment. He lifted his arm, readying to cast it onto the same path.

“Those wretched, foul birds!” Mr. Cavanaugh’s fateful words once again preceded his imminent assault.

“You’ll want to hand that over to me, sir.” Hendricks redoubled his efforts, perhaps because of the ladies’ unexpected presence. He placed one knee onto the bed while his other foot remained planted on the floor. He gripped Mr. Cavanaugh’s arm, wielding the breakable object before he could send it hurtling through the air.

“Confound it, man. Let me silence them—”

“
Mr. Cavanaugh!
” Mrs. Sutton voiced in a clear, authoritative manner. “I beg you desist at once!”

“What?” The blurry-eyed Mr. Cavanaugh turned toward the ladies and blinked.

“I am fully aware you do not take to country hours well.” Mrs. Sutton continued as if it were a well-known fact. “That is no excuse to shake the house with your early-morning objection to the wildlife which, you must own, is out of our control.”

“It is so—blasted early.”

Penny looked away and drew a breath in exasperation. Why did men always think it necessary to use such strong language?

“You have behaved in this manner each time you visit. I hope you do not expect your wife to endure such a shameful display?”

Shameful?
It was, despite the fact that Penny was married, or not, to him. “We should leave,” Penny urged Mrs. Sutton. “We must allow Mr. Hendricks to attend to his duty.”

“Very well.” Mrs. Sutton’s temper cooled, and she was the first to exit the bedchamber.

Penny pulled the door closed. The resounding click of the latch lent an air of finality that the ladies had indeed left that bizarre scene behind.

“
That
was so very peculiar,” she whispered, unable to remain silent. Penny had never heard of anyone reacting with such hostility to morning birdsong. Then, as if realizing what she had said, she added, “We have lived in Town all these years—”
during our marriage
had been left unsaid. “I had no idea Mr. Cavanaugh had such a violent reaction to the country.”

“I’ve never heard anyone behave in that manner.” Mrs. Sutton punctuated her statement with a
harrumph
and stepped forward, making her way to the staircase. Penny followed her down to the ground floor, where the companion stopped short after spotting an envelope, with its seal broken, on the foyer table.

“I nearly forgot—” She took up the missive and held it out. “It was the reason I had gone to seek you out earlier.”

Penny accepted the letter, barely held it open, and did not even have time to identify its author before Mrs. Sutton began to discuss the contents.

“Dr. Harding writes that he plans to pay a visit this afternoon. He wishes to see Madam for himself.”

“I see.” Penny did not bother to read his words. “That is good news, is it not?” She watched the companion’s expression, wondering if there was cause to worry about the elderly patient.

“Well, I cannot say.” Mrs. Sutton clasped her hands together and proceeded to wring them. “His sisters must have informed him about Madam’s recovery.” Her hands stilled, and she faced Penny. “She has had the most amazing improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

How could Penny answer? She had only met the woman yesterday. It had seemed to her the patient was nowhere near her deathbed.

“It appears that Dr. Harding wishes to see her and make his own judgment.”

As well he should
. David needed to be told. Penny glanced at the staircase, wondering if she should expect to see him descend anytime soon.
How long did it take him to dress in the morning?
She had never considered him a dandy, but then again she had never given it much thought.

“I expect he will be in the breakfast room soon enough.” Penny motioned for Mrs. Sutton to lead the way. “We can wait for him there.”

“Of course you are right.” The hand-wringing stopped. Mrs. Sutton, followed by Penny, moved down the corridor toward the breakfast room. They entered just in time to see the first of the serving dishes being removed. “Where are you going with those?”

“Mrs. Shore done told us to clean up the breakfast dishes,” the kitchen maid explained. “The Mister ain’t comin’ down this mornin’.”

“Mr. Cavanaugh has left without—” David’s behavior was baffling. What did he mean by skipping his breakfast?

“He did not pass us. We stood in the foyer. I’m certain we would have seen him.” Mrs. Sutton exchanged puzzled glances with Penny.

“Came runnin’ down the back stairs, gave us an awful fright.” The maid readjusted her hold on the serving plate. “Lookin’ for Cook, he was.”

“I don’t understand. Where is he now?” Mrs. Sutton appeared ready to head to the kitchen herself to discover the truth.

“He’s gone off with the children, Mrs. Sutton,” the maid replied. “That’s wot Cook says.”

“They’ve left already?” Penny remembered and knew exactly where he intended to lead the children. She hadn’t expected they would depart this early in the day.

“Gave them sum pails, Cook did.” The maid motioned over her shoulder with her head. “They mean to gather berries.”

“You mean to say they’ll be scrabbling about the ground, in the dirt, and rummaging through the brambles?” Mrs. Sutton blustered at the absurdity of this news.

“That is the only way to get ’em, you know,” the maid replied and nodded her head as if conveying her sincerity. “Young’uns usually go for that sort of thing.”

“I remember when Master David and his brothers used to forage for berries when they were young,” Mrs. Sutton reminisced. “They’d return with barely a half cup among them.”

“Best send word to Cook to bake some fruit tarts. Children are always hungry when they come back. They always are,” the maid said with a smile and left to relay the orders for the kitchen.

“There is a time and a place for everything. How could they leave when Madam is upstairs on her deathbed?” Mrs. Sutton turned to leave. “Master David knows how bad off his grandmother has been. He might miss Dr. Harding’s visit altogether.”

As far as Penny understood, Mrs. Cavanaugh’s improved condition did not qualify her for being
on her deathbed
any longer. Nor was David informed of the impending visit before leaving. What Mrs. Sutton did not know was that if he had not escorted the children on this outing, he might have had a small rebellion on his hands.

“A waste of time is what I say.” Mrs. Sutton let loose her last thoughts on the matter before stepping out into the corridor.

Despite the companion’s opinion regarding foraging for berries, Penny knew Lucy and young Davy were quite looking forward to it.

This was not how David remembered his childhood at all.

“How much longer, Da?” Lucy still managed to deliver the question very prettily and politely even though it had been the fiftieth time, no, the sixtieth time.

As David recalled, it only took fifteen to twenty minutes, thirty at the most, to travel from the house to the riverside where the wild berries grew.

“Are we there yet?” young Davy moaned while dragging his feet.

“Soon, Davy. Very soon,” David hoped. It seemed as if they’d been walking for hours.

Along the entire route, young Davy alternated between dragging his feet, moving at a snail’s pace, to running from spot to spot, making one marvelous discovery after another. The previous marvel, which had him completely absorbed, had been a small brown lizard that finally skittered away when it saw some gigantic creature observing it.

The boy had never seen a reptile before. Only then had David understood exactly what this expedition meant to his wards. They had lived in Town all their lives, never romped about in a meadow, chased a rabbit, climbed to the highest peak one could see, or collected wildflowers.

It was of no import. He would allow them to tarry. As much as they complained, Lucy and Davy were enjoying themselves.

“Come on then.” He wanted them to take their time, but David had not expected their journey to occupy the majority of their day. Of course the children did not realize their constant distractions were the very thing that kept them from reaching their destination.

Oh, the ignorance of youth!

Despite David’s misgivings regarding the short journey, it actually had taken hours before they finally arrived. He had divested himself of his frock coat and rolled up his sleeves in anticipation of the physical nature of the task ahead. Both children had had a grand time tugging on various portions of his garment, aiding in its ultimate removal.

Little Davy was on his knees, his backside and the soles of his shoes poking out from a low shrub. “Is this a berry, Da?” he called out from under a bush.

“Let’s have a look.” David laid his neatly folded coat carefully over a stout tree limb. He ran his hand down his blue diamond-patterned waistcoat.

Davy sat upright, planting himself firmly in the dirt. He had something in the center of one palm, and he prodded at it with one chubby finger.

“No, that’s a beetle. Best put him back where you found him.” David remembered picking the berries as being a very simple, and very enjoyable, activity. There were no bugs, insects, or creatures of any kind involved.

“I think these are berries, Da, but they’re still mostly green.” Lucy held the handle of her pail tight and foraged farther down the path. “I’ll keep looking.”

“This is a berry, Da!” Once again Davy was down on his hands and knees, peering into the shrubbery.

The only way to make certain would be for David to see for himself. If the boy needed to be on the ground, no doubt David would need to be as well.

He knelt, if somewhat gingerly, knowing there would be some sort of damage to the knees of his buckskins, not to mention ruining the shine upon the toes and calves of his top boots. He decided it was best not to look and took a deep breath before kneeling on the ground and making his way next to the lad.