Page 61 of The Marchioness Who Tempted Fate
“I suppose it is possible,” Percival observed. “It might explain why he keeps pressing to play for money. But even at a penny a point, he would soon beggar us all. Do not, if you value your fortune at all, give in to his requests to wager anything more than jettons on anything, Tommy.”
“Thank you for stopping me,” Mr. Kenault said.
“You are very welcome,” Percival replied. “That is what friends do for one another, is it not? Keep them out of trouble?”
“Speaking of trouble, have you heard anything more about your cook? Gossip has it that your uncle has put out a reward for turning her in.”
“He has. He is so very sure that, because the knife found in my back belonged to her, she is the one who caused me injury.”
“Fustian,” Mr. Quentin put in. “If she’d a mind to do you evil, a little hemlock in the stew or rat poison in the bread would have done the job. Besides, what reason would she have had to do so?”
“I agree that it doesn’t make sense,” Percival said. “I had a man looking into her past before someone decided to help me out of this world. Perhaps he found something.”
“Something that someone didn’t want known, perhaps?” Mr. Kenault tapped his fingers on the table. “And removing you would have effectively ended the investigation because your man would no longer have backing.”
“Now, that does make sense.” Mr. Quentin nodded his head vigorously in agreement. “Who did you have in, if that is not too much prying?”
“A retired constable from our local Watch. An estimable fellow who was a friend of my father’s. Since he is local and well-liked, he could ask around without creating suspicion.”
“Makes sense,” Mr. Kenault said.
“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Quentin corroborated. “Have you arranged to meet with him?”
“If I am well enough to be up and about tomorrow, and I believe I shall be, I will meet with him at the Inn down the way—the one that has been sending in our meals.”
“Without your uncle, I presume?” Mr. Quentin said wisely.
“Definitely without my uncle. He is firmly of the opinion that I have taken leave of my senses. I shall have to step nimbly to keep him from feeling the need to exert authority as an elder of my household.”
“Does he, in fact, have authority?” Quentin asked.
“Only in the event that I am incapacitated or found to run mad. I hope to avoid both these eventualities. Just incidentally, I am also meeting there with the surgeon who looked at my shoulder.”
Thomas Kenault studied Percival’s face for a moment. “Percy, old man,” he said slowly, “I almost get the feeling that you don’t trust your uncle.”
“No, no…it is not that. I simply wish to avoid a brangle with him while he is here. We’ve already pulled caps over hiring Tiffany as cook.”
“Has Mr. Wilson found a replacement for her yet?”
“Not so far. Uncle Ronald is advocating that I rehire Jones.”
“Dear heavens!” Edward Quentin shuddered. “The last time we ate here when he was the cook I could scarcely face looking at the food, let alone eat it.”
“If you thought that was bad, you should have seen how it was belowstairs,” Percival said. “If anyone was likely to poison the household, it was he—and quite without intending to do so.”
“Well, I think you are well rid of him,” Mr. Kenault said. “Not even my cousin the MP would put up with such a noisome meal. And goodness knows, he scarcely considers what he shovels into his mouth. He says that years of diplomacy helped him gain an iron stomach.”
“How likely is that?” Mr. Quentin asked with fascination. “I would think that eating bad food would make one inclined to have a delicate stomach.”
“I have no idea,” Mr. Kenault shook his head over the vagaries of relatives.
“Would you like for us to go with you tomorrow?” Mr. Quentin asked.
“I would like nothing better, my friends. And I have another favor to ask of you. Would it be too much of an imposition to ask you to sleep on trundle beds in my room? I must admit that all these strange happenings have made me more than a little uneasy.”
His friends stared at him for a moment. “You think that whoever it was might try again,” Mr. Quentin said.
“Let’s just say that I would rather not have us spread out, presenting three defenseless targets,” Percival said.
