Chapter 112

She smiled. "Oh, I'm sure this is Catterton and very lovely it is too, although I did think Catterton was the name of your house in London, or I might have said before that-"
"This is Catterton. Don't have me showing you round if you're not planning on staying."
She set off behind him. "Oh, it's not that, Your Grace."
"Then what is it?"
"I just feel it is my duty to remind you of some things you appear to have forgotten."
"And what's that?"
"Firstly, these stairs seem quite dangerous, quite the one-fall-would-break-your-neck type. Perhaps that is what you wish for me, but I can't take my friend down there. I'll never get her up and down, and, pardon me, do, for saying, Mrs. Ferret doesn't look the helpful type. Just an observation, Your Grace."
He rounded the second bend without looking up. "Oh, Ferret looks the type to poison the supper."
"Indeed. In fact, you couldn't have put it better. That's why-"
"That's why I chose her. But she does what I say. In case you're worried, your friend can have one of the upstairs rooms. I'll get Bates and Ferret to make one suitable, if you're staying. They won't take kindly to doing it if you don't like it here and are going to change your mind."
She glanced at his back disappearing round the next bend. "Me? Your Grace? No. No. In fact, I feel so bad for making it my duty when what I really want to remind you of is something else."
"Oh take the kid gloves off, will you? You're never this contrite."
"And may I say you're seldom less obnoxious? Still, I will say it since you've asked me. Secondly, I can't think you're going to make Babs Langley jealous from here."
"Who says I want to?"
She paused, then she picked up her dropping jaw and hurried on. If it was just Babs Langley, but it wasn't. Once again her folly gaped. "But surely that is the sole object-"
As her foot went over the edge of the worn step she'd been racing down and she lost her balance, not breaking her neck was what she thought. Pain shot up first one elbow, then the other, as she pitched forward and they smacked off the stone steps. She reached out wildly. The feet of the banister spindles surged into her vision. She grabbed them, swallowing the shriek as her nose bumped against the cold metal. She'd rather die than have him think she'd thrown herself down the stairs in an attempt to get his attention after his gross affront. But death wasn't necessary. Stillmore clattered on.
"I mean I don't know I want to make her jealous by living with you in London, before you go thinking anything else. What the-"
His feet ground to a halt, his eyes darkened.
"Christ-" He raced back up the stairs two at a time, to the step below her. "Let me see." He knelt down. Her gaze shot sideways.
"No. I shall survive, Your Grace. Please don't make a fuss."
He tugged his breath all the way down into his chest, reached out his hand. "Here."
Last night wasn't just a tiptoe in her blood, it was a thundering gallop, though. It must be for her to be even remotely troubled that he brought women here by the cartload.
But maybe she should just take his hand? It might solve her immediate problem, even if blood trickled from her nose onto her top lip. His fingertips were right there. All she need do was grasp them, enfold them, let tender rapture speak for itself, solve her problems with a simple stroke when his eyes seemed to invite it. She tentatively let go of the spindle, reached toward him. A shadow fell across the step. He jerked up his head.
"Oh, what the bloody hell is it now, Mrs. Ferret?"
"Well, begging your pardon, Your Grace, I were just wonderin' ... "
"What?" Stillmore's voice reverberated around the circular walls he looked askance at. "What were you wondering? How many peas I want on my plate at lunch? Whether the bed still needs turning down or not? Should you sweep that cobweb off the wall there? When you know I can't abide fuss and give you the clear running of this place to do what you damn well like with? Keep it like a heap, for all I care."
Splendor lowered her gaze. The moment was ruined. By him bellowing like a bull as if he couldn't bear any interruption when it came to getting Splendor down these steps. But, for the first time since this morning, a good idea occurred. A far better one than any she'd thought up so far. One that would solve everything at an even better stroke and save her abasing herself in a low fashion by grasping his hand. One he deserved for his treatment of her, of the world.
"Mrs. Ferret." She cinched her lips in a smile. A smile that still felt like ashes and fetters when the woman was so difficult and her own nose was bleeding slightly. "I may call you that, may I?"
"You may call me what you like, so long as it's decent, me lady."
"Well." Splendor could think of a few names that weren't if it was to be what she liked, but being called me lady sent a tiny thrill scudding through her. "I'm so glad that's settled."
"Oh, I don't know about that, me lady, you see-"
"Well, I do, because then we can agree on so much more, Mrs. Ferret. Now, can't we? Hmm?"
"Really? Like whot? I mean, meaning no disrespect but I don't see what a fine lady like you and a much lower lady, like me, can agree on."
Drawing as deep a breath as she could manage, when the breath had been knocked from her body in that fall, Splendor also managed to her feet. Ignoring the shrieking agony in her left elbow, the throb just below her knee, she even managed to place a hand on Mrs. Ferret's arm, staggering up four stairs to do it. "Oh, you would be surprised. Like His Grace not shouting at you like that for one thing." Yes. It was worth ignoring the cheek the woman had just uttered for this.
Mrs. Ferret pursed her lips. "I'm used to it, me lady. It's why he chose me to manage the house for him because he knows I don't complain. Not like some."
"Oh I understand and that this may seem like a complaint. But I'm not happy with it. Still, hopefully we can agree on other things, like ... like your coming to London with me. With us."
"With you? Your Grace?"
Had Mrs. Ferret successfully swallowed a golf ball she couldn't have looked more surprised.
"Yes."
"Graces, Mrs. Ferret. The word is graces," Stillmore snarled. "And frankly I have never heard of anything so damned ridiculous in my life. Her ladyship has spoken out of turn. Spoken in ways she should not-"
"A common fault of mine. Although in this instance, I don't see that I have, Your Grace. I have been quite muted, really, when it's perfectly obvious that Mrs. Ferret is simply longing to go to London. In fact, is breaking her heart. Isn't that so, Mrs. Ferret? Only think of the help she will be to me there. To us. Learning the ropes. Instructing me in the happy ways of being your wife."
"She is not ... "
"Oh, I don't know, Your Grace."
"Yes you do, Ferret. You know perfectly, your place is here managing this establishment for-"
"But maybe I'm tired managin' it for you, Your Grace. And I should fancy a change of scene. I have never been to London. But I have heard much of it. I daresay Bates could manage on his own here for a bit now you won't be bringin' young ladies here, you bein' married an' that. Yes, me lady, I think I should like that very much. When do we leave?"
***

As Stillmore thrust his boot into Juniper's stirrup, he only wished he could thrust it into that damned, interfering piece's backside. How was he meant to say no to Ferret? Quite, quite easily but the bloody woman ran things for him here, without fuss, preamble, or ever batting an eyelid.
Besides, that other bloody woman had a point. If he was to make any kind of show, demonstrate anything to anyone, Catterton wasn't the place. She might as well be on the Moon.
Sweat stood in his armpits though at the thought of having her in his house in London.
Three months?
An eternity when she couldn't keep her mouth shut and kept checking all his moves.
He'd never do it. He'd have to.
He fisted the reins, dug in his spurs. Three months.
He was the Earl of Stillmore, not some bloody sap. It should be no trouble to have her in London. It might even be he got to like it. Unlikely. But you never knew.
If he didn't, if she tried to outmaneuver him once more, to manage him, do any of the things that drove him to distraction, he'd divorce her sooner.
Christ, faster than anyone could say the word now, he would.
***

"Christ, Splen, who's that?"
Topaz was all eyes as Splendor clambered back aboard O'Taggart's cart. Even though it pained Splendor to say, and her thoughts were dwindling by the moment, her smile too, she cinched her lips.
"That is our ticket back to London," she murmured. "That is what Stillmore gets for his obnoxious behavior, trying to leave us here."
"But don't yer think here's safer, seein' as my picture's up everywhere?"
"I said, didn't I? This place is no use to us. I need to go back to London, and I really don't care what I do to get there. What I do to stay there either. Do you understand? I just want my star to shine. How hard can it be?"
Three months.
She'd never thought she'd be successful with Mrs. Ferret and she had. Now, it only remained for her to keep making sure one move led to another.
How difficult could that be?