Lady in the Stray (2 page)

“But not enough to enable us to remain there indefinitely, I fancy,” put in the astute Charlot, as he gently stroked Python. “Our papa told Vashti that Cousin Marmaduke had a treasure, sir.”

Lionel stared with revulsion at the garden snake. “I know nothing of any treasure, and I fear that the large portion of your cousin’s assets were dissipated long ago.” The lad did not appear convinced, he thought; a pair of amber eyes fixed quizzically on him, not to mention the various beady orbs possessed by young Charlot’s pets.

Lionel shuffled through his papers, adjusted his spectacles, cleared his throat. “Your cousin’s will is a very straightforward document,” he announced, and immediately proceeded to confuse his audience with a great many “hereditaments” and “herebefores” and “aforesaids.”

Vashti folded her hands atop the perforated box, from which came a curious repetitive sound, as if a tail were being indignantly lashed. It began to seem that they must return to Brighton, after all. Her heart sank even further, until it rested alongside her toes in her shabby half-boots. Vashti did not dislike Brighton; she had enjoyed the bracing breezes, the sound of waves pounding at the soft white cliffs and murmuring on the shore. But she had
not
enjoyed the incessant vituperations of her aunt.

“Let me understand you,” she interrupted as the solicitor was explaining that to this last will and testament the late Marmaduke Mountjoy had in the presence of witnesses set his hand and seal. “Our cousin left me his London house. Is there any reason why Charlot and I may not take up residence in that house until we decide what we are to do?”

“Hoorah!” shouted Charlot. Lionel echoed, “Take up residence—you must be mad! That is, I am surprised that you should consider such a thing.”

“Surprised?” Vashti herself was astonished to discover that she had taken the bit between her teeth. She would regret her impulsiveness, she suspected— but she would regret an ignominious return to Brighton even more. “It was you who sent us the means to come to London, sir. What did you expect we would do once we arrived? Put up at a hotel? If the estate can stand that sort of nonsense, it can provide us with the means to live at least temporarily in our own house.” She looked rueful. “I promise you that we are not expensive, Mr. Heath.”

Lionel fidgeted uncomfortably. “The house is not prepared for visitors. I was certain you would decide to sell it—some inquiries have already been made. I beg you will seriously consider such offers as you may receive. As for staying in Mountjoy House yourselves, it is out of the question. Most of the servants have been dismissed. And it would be most unsuitable, in any case.”

“Aunt Adder told us all about Mountjoy House.” Charlot was determined to have this business settled before Vashti could change her mind. “We don’t care a fig if it is a great ugly barn. And the lack of servants doesn’t signify a straw, because we are used to fending for ourselves.”

“As you wish.” The solicitor’s tone was unenthusiastic. How the devil, wondered Lionel, was he to explain Minette?

CHAPTER TWO

“
La vache!”
muttered Minette.
“
This is
the most odious of developments—and you need not remind me that Marmaduke was used to say one should always try to get over heavy ground as light as one can,
mon ami.
It is Marmaduke’s fault that I have been thrown into such a pucker. He swore he would leave me comfortably bestowed. He vowed he was a man of substance. And what does he with that substance, eh, Orphanstrange?”

There was no response from her companion, a very superior gentleman’s gentleman, slight of figure, pale of complexion and hair. In truth, the valet did not realize that he had been addressed. Orphanstrange was wholly engrossed in tapping with his knuckles upon the kitchen walls.

“Voila!”
continued Minette, scowling at the knife with which she was industriously chopping turnips, carrots, celery and potatoes and leeks. “I shall tell you what Marmaduke did with his substance. He left it to some respectable female.”

Orphanstrange paused long enough in his labors to survey the huge elm working-table where Minette stood. “Did Master Marmaduke
know
any respectable females?” he doubtfully inquired. “Quite a hand with the ladies he was, if you take my meaning—as you should know even better than myself.”

Minette brandished her blade, wishing that she might skewer Marmaduke’s heiress with it. Then she laughed, tossed the knife aside and swept the chopped vegetables into an earthen pan that already contained split peas and grits. “At any rate, this female is more respectable than myself. Although from what Marmaduke said of her, it is not by much!
Eh bien!”
She added water to the contents of the earthen pan, covered it and carried it to a cooking stove and popped it within, alongside a loaf of bread. “Me, I knew Marmaduke very well—what would you, I was his ward. And he never suggested anything improper, or at least not very often, no matter what that so-superior solicitor may think!”

Though Orphanstrange would not dignify this statement with an answer, he did cast Minette a speaking sideways glance. A damsel who looked less like a gentleman’s ward would be difficult to find. Minette was eighteen years of age, with sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks, an impudent little nose and a thoroughly mischievous face—and a figure that owed much of its opulence to a fondness for sweetmeats. Currently, that opulence was draped about with a light and filmy Grecian gown which left much bare and more than hinted at the rest. Minette’s dark hair was dressed in the Grecian fashion also, with full classical coils behind and light curls in front. Roman sandals hugged her plump little feet. A stern expression sat charmingly on her face as she engaged in conversation with the cooking stove. There was good reason for her supplications, Minette’s culinary experience being scant.
“Ah, ça!
”
she sighed. “To think that Marmaduke would leave us without even enough to eat.”

“Master Marmaduke wasn’t all that far advanced in years.” Orphanstrange felt compelled to speak out in his late employer’s defense. “He wouldn’t have expected to stick his spoon in the wall just yet.”

“And so he might not have, had he not gotten drunk as a wheelbarrow and missed his footing on the stair!” Minette was prone to consider her benefactor’s untimely demise as a personal affront. “And at a time when he was again under the hatches, what’s worse! Not that Marmaduke wasn’t always a trifle scorched—but
we
would not be all to pieces had
he
not been rolled up when he popped off.” She returned to the elm table, again hefted the knife.

The kitchen of Mountjoy House was a large cavernous chamber with coconut matting on its stone-flagged floor. In addition to the elm working-table, it was equipped with a great deal of dark wood furnishings and copper utensils which would have benefited from a brisk polishing, and with three cooking stoves which needed blacking as badly as the grate. Opening off the kitchen was the scullery, with its big wooden sink. A passage led to the larder, with its brick floor and empty slate shelves. There was not even brown sugar left with which to bait the beetle traps.

“Alors!
We are alone in this great house, and thus far it has availed us nothing to peer into every corner and tap upon the walls.” Minette absently applied her knife to the tabletop, which stood in need of cleaning as much as the rest of Mountjoy House. “Me, I would think we are engaged in the chase of a wild goose, had not Marmaduke said so often he was leaving his greatest treasure behind. Since he did not plan to go anywhere, perhaps he was making one of his little jokes. If there is no treasure, I will never forgive him!”

Orphanstrange’s sensibilities were as raw as his knuckles; he roughly bade his companion cease talking like a nodcock. “‘Tisn’t likely that Master Marmaduke would do a thing like
that!
A proper reverence for the Ready-and-Rhino he had. You’re just in a pelter because you think he put one over on you, miss, and mayhap he did, but you aren’t the only one as has been served an ill turn. Begging your pardon, you’d do better to help me look for whatever it is Master Marmaduke hid away than to whittle at that table, because he said his secret was worth a fortune in the right hands.” Orphanstrange wrinkled his brow. “On the other hand, when Master Marmaduke said that, he was in his cups.”

“Then he spoke truth. The only time Marmaduke told the truth was when he was foxed, as best I could tell.” Minette crossed her arms beneath her magnificent bosom, a great deal of which was bare.
“Eh bien!
I shall assist you, though this knocking about on walls seems to me very wearisome—but if we do not find the treasure or manage some manner of miracle, we will both be in the suds. You will have to seek other employment,
mon ami,
and you will not like that. There is very little chance that you may find a good position after it is discovered you were employed by Marmaduke. People will think it is a case of ‘like master, like man.’ And as for me—” Minette wrinkled her mischievous little nose. “It is not an easy thing to discover a gentleman who wishes to make one his ward. I shall have to set up as a high-class gentleman’s companion, I expect.
Hélas!
I do not wish to become a ladybird. It makes a person long to swear the devil out of hell.” She made a good effort at so doing, under her breath.

For the space of a few moments the silence was broken only by Minette’s Gallic imprecations and Orphanstrange’s knuckles rapping against the walls. The coconut matting rustled beneath his slight weight. Without enthusiasm, Minette moved to a dresser upon which were displayed pottery mugs and plates and gingerly peered within. What Mountjoy House lacked in human occupants, it made up for in beetles and cockroaches, mice and rats. She straightened, having discovered nothing more exceptionable than a tureen fashioned after a rabbit, and a green glass jug.

“Mon ami,”
Minette began, then started as Orphanstrange clutched her arm.
“Que diable—”

Orphanstrange pointed a trembling finger at a dark corner of the kitchen, where a section of the floor had begun to slowly rise
“Mon dieu!”
shrieked Minette, and flung herself for protection into the valet’s arms. Since Orphanstrange had conceived the same notion at very nearly the same moment, they knocked each other right off their feet.

Minette shoved irritably at the valet, who was sprawled atop her, his sharp elbow jabbed uncomfortably into her midsection. “Remove yourself,
imbécile.
And pray cease to tremble. It is only Delphine.”

“Delphine?” Orphanstrange dared open one of the eyes he had screwed shut against the expected sight of his employer’s ghost. Emerging through the opened trap door was a wizened diminutive lady, clad in the garments of some long-forgotten year. Relieved, he clambered off Minette. “Beg pardon, I’m sure, miss— but it gave me such a start! Thought it was Master Marmaduke, I did, come back from the dead.”

Minette inspected herself for broken limbs, happily found none. “Marmaduke wouldn’t dare come back from the dead, for fear of what I’d say!” she snapped, staring in an unfriendly manner at the newcomer.
“Tiens!
Delphine has been exploring the tunnels again, I see. I do not trust her one tiny inch.”

Orphanstrange attempted to brush off the accumulated dirt and dust and refuse he had acquired whilst rolling on the floor. “We made an agreement. Whoever of us finds Master Marmaduke’s treasure, we’ll split it three ways.”

“You and I made an agreement.” With a jaundiced eye, Minette watched Delphine’s leisurely approach. “Me, I think she would rather keep it for herself. If she has not already! Do not forget that Delphine alone knows all the secret rooms and passageways and hidey-holes in this old house for she was a child here when the renovations were made. Even Marmaduke did not know the whole of it! Unfortunately, Delphine’s memory is as unreliable as her promise.” Minette raised her voice.
“Bonjour,
Delphine.”

Daintily, Delphine advanced out of the shadows, revealing herself as a female of incredibly advanced years. She wore a very youthful jacket and skirt of zebra-striped cloth, with
mariniere
sleeves, and a hat
à
la tartare
atop her powdered curls. The costume was a trifle frayed at the seams, being almost two decades past its prime. The same might have been said of Delphine.

Increased age had not dimmed her dark eyes, however, nor dulled her sharp tongue. “Fie!” she scolded, shaking an admonishing finger under Minette’s nose. “You’re supposed to be looking for Marmaduke’s treasure, baggage, not playing slap and tickle with this bandyshanks. You might have a thought for other people. I demned near swooned from the shock.”

Minette glowered. “I am not a baggage,” she enunciated very clearly, chin thrust out belligerently, fists on her plump hips.

“No, and you ain’t a well-brought-up young woman, either!” Delphine gave Minette’s outthrust chin a sharp pinch.
“I
could’ve told you how it would be with Marmaduke, but would you listen? No! You may blame yourself for your predicament, flibbertigibbet.”

“I am not a flibbertigibbet,” protested Minette, though less volubly than before. She turned to Orphanstrange. “The old one has finally gone off her hinges,
mon ami.”

Delphine turned her powdered head sideways. “What’s that you say? I ain’t as sharp of hearing as once I was. Speak up, chit.”

Lest Minette oblige, Orphanstrange intervened. “We
were
looking for Master Marmaduke’s treasure, ma’am! You startled us, popping out that way,” he explained, voice raised to a mild shout. “Did you find anything?”

“Merely a bold fizgig behaving as she shouldn’t!” Delphine perched upon one of the short benches placed on either side of the hearth, her raddled features stretched into a malicious grin. “Don’t you trust me, varlet? Or do you think if I discover Marmaduke’s treasure, I may not be disposed to share? You may just be right.”

Orphanstrange was too much the diplomat to respond to these remarks. To Minette, he suggested that their spirits might be uplifted by a meal of soup and bread. “I’m hungry!” announced Delphine, whose hearing was on occasion excellent. Her gaze, as it rested upon Orphanstrange, was not especially friendly. “Mugwump!”