The Valet and the Stable Groom: M/M Regency Romance (10 page)

Clement prevented himself from scowling at the mistress of the house. “And your own species.”

“Clement,” said Jane. “You’re being very stuffy about all this.”

“Ha!” said Hildebert, nudging her elbow. “No, say rather that the bear is being very stuffy about this. Clement, is being more… more…”

“He’s a scold,” Letty said.

“Letty!” Clement glared at her, since he couldn’t glare at the other two.

“Do sit,” said Hildebert.

“It is an unfair display of favouritism,” Clement replied. “You do not take tea with your housekeeper and your butler, who have seniority over us, and thus it is an insult to them for you to take us as favourites.”

“He is a scold,” Jane agreed. “Clement, see here. Hildebert and I are eccentric, and the two of you are our companions. Now sit.”

Clement sat.

Letty poured him a cup of tea, and added two lumps of sugar to it.

Hildebert and Jane resumed their discussion over the morality of hunting, and whether or not animals had souls. They frequently solicited the bear’s opinions on this topic, referring to him by the title of Ermengarde, Earl of the Entry Foyer.

“What do you suppose that is?” Letty asked, pointing out the window.

Everyone turned to look, except the bear, whose stuffing prevented it, and Clement, who took the opportunity to rescue the tea cup from the bear’s clutches and set it safely down upon the table.

“Perhaps it’s the mail coach,” said Hildebert.

“It cannot be the mail coach,” said Letty. “That has already come.”

“Perhaps it is visitors,” said Jane.

“It cannot be visitors,” said Letty. “It is much too drab. No, I am certain that it is a wagon of some sort. There is a tarpaulin across the back of it.”

Hildebert’s sharp intake of breath was dramatic enough that Clement choked on his tea.

“It is,” said Hildebert, in a reverent whisper, “
my calling
.”

Jane and Letty regarded him in confusion. Clement was busy coughing on his tea, and thus had no need to stifle any grimace or commentary.

“My inventorial supplies,” Hildebert explained.

This did nothing to abate the confusion of his listeners.

“For the engine!” Hildebert said. “Which I intend to invent.”

Jane’s smile contained both mirth and patience. “I thought it had already been invented.”

“Well, yes, the de Rivaz engine has already been invented, by, to be sure, Mr. de Rivaz. But I, you see, intend to recreate it, and then to improve upon the design. I am sure, from what I understand of it already, that there is much improvement to be made. It is, after all, very dangerous to power an engine with very small explosions.”

Clement tensed his jaw and did not groan.

“And then, you see, I shall have invented the much improved engine, which shall be named after myself. The Devereux engine, which I am sure will be attached to every carriage within the year.”

“Oh, I see,” said Jane. “That does make quite a bit of sense.”

Letty shot her a disbelieving look.

Hildebert beamed, and the assembly decamped downstairs to inspect the new supplies.

C
lement
, Midgley, Hildebert and Hugo directed the unloading of the wagon, while Jane and Letty observed from an upstairs window, and only Hugo and one of the footmen actually did any work.

“Here, now,” said Midgley, striding forward with all the confidence of a very grand butler, “let’s do this all sensibly, shall we? We ought to unload the heavy things first.”

“Oh!” said Hildebert, not paying attention to Midgley as he scampered up to the wagon and began taking things out of their parcels and inspecting them with expressions of rapture, and then setting the items down haphazardly. Clement followed him, putting each item back in its place or as near to it as he could manage.

Hugo picked up a crate, handed it off to the footman, and pointed toward the workshop. The footman strode off. Hugo picked up a second crate and followed him.

“Good, good,” said Midgley, nodding. “Those looked like the heavy ones.”

Hildebert’s transports of joy continued as he inspected the contents of the crates. Clement had a growing pile of items that he was no longer sure where they ought to go.

“Do you want to oversee the unpacking efforts?” Clement suggested, making a teetering little pile of unknown scientific paraphernalia on one corner of the wagon. “To make certain that everything is placed in your workshop the way you would want?”

“Oh, yes,” Hildebert said, eyes widening as he looked off in the direction of the workshop, no doubt imagining scenarios of his servants unsupervised and placing the stuff of science in any available pig trough. “I shall do so at once.”

When Hugo and the footman returned to gather a second load, Hildebert trotted after them, chattering all the way about the proper care and storage of scientific material. Clement suspected that much of it was made up.

The wagon driver remained upon his seat, watching this all unfold with a grimace.

Leaving the wagon under the supervision of Midgley, Clement took along as many of the displaced items as he could safely carry and followed after the others.

“Set that crate along there,” Hugo ordered, as they entered the workshop, directing the footman as to where they might place their loads. “That way my lord can access everything within the crates until they are all unpacked and placed in the appropriate locations within the workshop.”

“Oh, very good, very good,” said Hildebert, nodding his approval and looking over the arrangement of the crates as though he were an artist conducting a composition. “Just so.”

“Go and fetch the next crate,” Hugo said to the footman, who went. “Sir,” said Hugo, drawing Hildebert’s attention to the empty shelves and trunks that had been placed in the workshop for Hildebert’s use. “Shall we unpack these beakers onto the shelves there? I am certain that would be the safest place for such delicate glass. I have checked the steadiness of all the shelves, and those are the most secure.”

“Very good, very good,” Hildebert said again.

Hugo took up two of the beakers from their crate, inspecting each of them and then handing them to Hildebert. As Hildebert mimicked the inspection, Hugo took up another two beakers, checked them, and went to set them on the shelf.

Hildebert was left holding the beakers. He was visibly perplexed as to what he should do with them.

Hugo came back, took up a large glass sphere, and went to set it on the shelf.

Still holding the beakers, Hildebert made a tentative movement toward the crate as if to put them back. Thinking the better of this, he redirected his movement toward the shelf and set them in an available space.

When he trotted back over to Hugo, by the crate, Hugo put another set of beakers into his hand.

Perplexed anew, Hildebert gaped at him for a moment, and then set about the very important business of inspecting the beakers with his expert inventor’s eye. When he had inspected them to his satisfaction, he went and set them on the shelf.

Within a minute, he was taking items from the crate himself and putting them on shelves.

Clement watched all of this with jaw agape.

Hugo and Hildebert continued unloading the crates and finding places to put the new scientific materials, while the footman brought in new crates. By the second new crate he’d brought in, Hugo and Hildebert had emptied the crate that they’d started on, and Hugo sent it back out.

Attempting to make himself useful, Clement started unloading another of the crates, but wherever he put something, Hildebert found fault with it.

“Not
there
, Clement,” he fussed, taking up the metal contraption which Clement had just set down and relocating it across the room. “It simply can’t be helped, Clement. I know you have the best of intentions, but you’re just not a scientist.”

Apparently Hugo, who continued to unload crates with more authority than supervision, was.

After several more aborted attempts to unload or advise, Clement gave up and left them to it.

He fetched a tray of refreshments, and was scolded at for putting it down in the way, on an empty table which was evidently crucial to their continued unpacking efforts. Hugo found a different empty table to set it on, after which Hildebert accepted the refreshments with enthusiastic cheer, and set to while Hugo arranged his workshop around him.

Clement bristled with indignation at this displacement, and went back inside to see to his duties.

“
C
lement
?”

It was late afternoon when Hildebert’s voice floated up from the front entryway. He sounded slightly lost, as though he had walked into someone else’s house.

Setting down the book he’d picked up to read in Hildebert’s neglected study, Clement yawned and followed after the sound of his master’s voice.

“Clement, where are you?” Hildebert repeated. “I’m bleeding.”

That got Clement’s pace to quicken. He trotted down the steps, heart pounding with worry over his employer’s injury. “Bleeding!” Clement said. “Why are you bleeding? What the devil happened?”

It turned out to be a cut on his hand. Clement took him by the wrist and led him into the kitchen, forcing himself not to squirm at the drops of blood Hildebert was leaving on the floor and on his trousers.

“It was ever so clumsy of me,” said Hildebert, docile as a kitten while Clement led him about. “I’m afraid I broke one of those glass bottle things… what was it that Mr. Ogden called them?”

“Beakers,” Clement said, cleaning the blood from his hand with a wet cloth. “They are called beakers.”

“Oh, yes,” said Hildebert. “He is ever so knowledgeable about these things.”

Clement’s jaw tensed with irritation. He’d spent the past two weeks learning about engine construction and the chemistry of combustion, but somehow it was Hugo, the stable groom, who had become the expert.

“And where was Hugo when this incident happened?” Clement asked.

“Oh, I had sent him away,” said Hildebert. “I do now think that was quite foolish of me. He would make for an excellent assistant, don’t you think? Why, he’s quite a natural at the way of it. Perhaps, were he of better birth, he would have made for an excellent gentleman scientist!”

Clement did not think that Hugo had shown any particular aptitude for science, aside from the unloading of glass beakers. He did, however, think that Hugo would make a particularly comely gentleman. Keeping this to himself, he focused on the task of bandaging Hildebert’s hand.

T
he date
of the garden party was set at last.

Clement was glad for this, as it would after all this time provide some decent socialisation for Hildebert and Jane. In addition, it would go some way toward announcing their arrival in the local society, which would significantly increase their invitations and hopefully decrease the amount of time that Mr. and Mrs. Devereux had for socialising with their servants and handling dangerous scientific materials.

Chairs and tables were selected, cushions were fluffed, fabrics were freshened and mended. Jane, despite her frivolity when it came to socialising with servants, had an excellent head for planning, and she was helped greatly by Mrs. Ledford’s capable oversight of the household.

Clement did his best to keep out of the way as Jane, Letty, and Mrs. Ledford ran circles around each other. Jane would decide upon what she wanted, and communicate as much to Mrs. Ledford, who would set it into action. After that, Letty would come up with some new idea or modification, which Jane would approve, and then Letty would implement it without consulting Mrs. Ledford.

“She’s doing everything
wrong
,” Letty complained, too loudly.

Clement steered her into a side room, where she could complain to her heart’s content with a lower risk of being overheard.

“Letty,” said Clement. He had spent the last hour watching Letty and Mrs. Ledford get in each other’s way over some matter of cushions that were meant to be placed on the garden chairs. After the third time of being snapped at for offering some suggestion, Clement just stayed out of the way and did his best to follow the conflicting instructions from the various authorities of the household. “You might try cooperating with her.”

Letty glowered at him as though this suggestion was a personal betrayal. “She might try cooperating with me!”

“She’s the
housekeeper
,” Clement said.

“She’s doing everything wrong!”

“She’s…” Clement sighed, returning her scowl. “Letty.”

“Don’t ‘Letty’ me.”

“Letitia.”

“Nor that!” Letty smacked him with the floral cushion she was holding. “She is awful, Clement, and I despise her.”

“I would not be surprised to hear she thinks the same of you,” Clement said.

Letty’s glare sharpened.

“Letty,” Clement said again.

“No.” Letty pushed the cushion into Clement’s arms. “She needs to stay out of my way and mind her own responsibilities. I am helping Jane to arrange this party. She is only a housekeeper.”

Clement sorely wanted to point out that Letty was only a maid, but she had walked out of the room.

W
hile Jane
and Letty oversaw their preparations for the party, Hildebert was usually to be found in his new workshop. And whenever Hugo was not otherwise engaged with his work as a stable groom, he was to be found at Hildebert’s side.

Clement walked into the workshop to find them side by side in discussion of a scientific diagram. His heart gave an unhappy lurch.

“Clement!” said Hildebert. “Here you are. Look at what we are making.”

Clement regarded the project under construction, which looked like a pile of grease-streaked bronze pipes and gears, and then regarded the blueprint they were using, which looked like a deconstructed mechanical device of no functional purpose whatsoever.

Hildebert was beaming proudly at him, while Hugo’s expression was a confusing mixture of friendliness and regret.

“What is it?” Clement asked.

“It’s an engine!”

“Oh,” said Clement. “I see. What does it do?”

“It…” said Hildebert. “Well, it…” He cast a supplicating look toward Hugo. “It engines.”

“Ah,” said Clement. “I don’t know how I can have failed to ascertain that.”

Hugo bit down on one side of his lip.

“Sir,” said Clement, “I’ve come to fetch you. Your supper and your lady wife await.”

“Is it supper time already?” Hildebert exclaimed. “Then I suppose I ought to finish all this later. Come along, Clement. We don’t want to keep Jane waiting.”

Leaving his tools in disarray, Hildebert headed out the door.

Clement hesitated, looking back at Hugo. He wanted to exchange some words with him, but there was no time. Hildebert would require his services in dressing for dinner, and Clement didn’t know, after all, what he wished to say.

“Good evening,” Clement said, softly, and then followed after Hildebert out the door.