On The Bias: Mysterious Charm, book 6 by Celia Lake

Author:Celia Lake
Language: eng
Format: epub

Twenty-Four

Tuesday the 14th of July, at Ytene.

Benton finished pouring a drink, and brought it over, presenting it on the small silver tray. The library was sorted for the evening, and in a few minutes, Benton could see to the things for the morning and let the evening unroll as his lordship preferred.

“Benton?” His lordship had that note in his voice, the one that suggested that there were plots in the works.

“Your lordship?”

“How complicated, precisely, would it be to arrange to have Hawk’s Breath cleaned and sorted out for a gathering?” The Cumbria estate, then. “Lizzie and I were thinking a masked ball would be appropriate.”

Benton blinked. This was not at all like his lordship. “When did you have in mind, sir? And how many staying overnight?”

“A fortnight?” It was half a question. “And under twenty overnight. We’d only need to open up the east wing. A hundred or a hundred fifty for the evening.”

“It would be a stretch to have it ready that quickly and prepare the cooking. And people do like time to plan their fancy dress, sir.”

“I was thinking we might ask Mistress Castalia to be on hand, for last minute creations. Possibly her delightful apprentices? An illusion-worker, as well, I thought.”

“They are not currently in favour in the higher levels of society, sir. That problem, last year, with the impersonation of Lady Summerton, and that situation with the eldest son of the Fitzroys.”

“The Cumbria Fitzroys, I suppose. If it were the Essex ones, that would not be such a problem.”

“The Cumbria side of the family, sir, yes.”

There was a long pause, deliberate, before his lordship allowed, “Three weeks from Thursday.”

Benton permitted himself the faintest of sighs. “Sir. If I may begin the arrangements first thing tomorrow?”

“Of course. I can manage without you for a few days. And I’ll talk to Mrs Mudthon myself, I’d like her to have a hand with the pastries. Tomorrow morning, if she’s available.”

“Mrs Callypher needs to be handled carefully, sir.” She was the cook up in Cumbria.

“Do you feel she’s up to the main event? Buffet, small finger foods, for a hundred and fifty or so. If Mrs Mudthon does the pastries and sweets. I know Mrs Callypher’s getting on a bit, but she does that grand range of historical dishes, easy to eat.”

Quite complicated to make. “Is there a theme to the ball?”

“Our Illustrious Ancestors.” His lordship looked up, eyes gleaming, the expression that meant he was playing out half a dozen plots at once, and had come up with the perfect ribbon to tie them together.

Benton took a step back, blinking, and then said, his voice sharply precise, “If your lordship would lay out the entirety of the fishing expedition up front, I could provide far more efficient service.”

His lordship laughed, and gestured at the seat across from him. Benton frowned, disliking the implications of sitting in his lordship’s presence, but they had had that argument exactly twice, early on, and Benton had lost both times. Dignity would not permit a third.

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