The Valet and the Stable Groom: M/M Regency Romance (5 page)

“At your service,” Hugo replied, and bowed. “I hope my charges have been well behaved?”

“Your… oh!” Hildebert said. “Dear me, I never thought to wonder where the puppies had come from. Are they ours?”

“They are,” said Hugo, kneeling by the mother dog and ruffling her floppy brown ears. “This is Constance, who is, if I may say so, the best dog in your stables. The dogs are bred for herding, since we have a surfeit of sheep in these parts, but I’d be glad to train some hunting dogs if you have such an inclination.”

“No, no, I’m afraid that I’m a disaster on horseback. Though they are such noble animals! I’m sorry that you shan’t be kept very busy on my account. As long as the carriage horses are handsome, I leave the stables entirely to your command, my good Mr. Ogden. Constance, you said? What an excellent dog!”

“Mr. Ogden,” said Jane. An attentive puppy sat in her lap, watching all the conversation with as much polite interest as Clement had seen from well-bred debutantes. “Would you allow me to take one of the dogs as a pet?”

Hugo’s smile was flattered and confused at once. Clement wanted to make a catalogue of his smiles. “My lady, all of the dogs are yours. You may do with them as you please.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Jane said, gently ruffling the ears of the puppy in her lap. The animal looked up at her and panted quietly. “But I know very little about dogs and I should need your guidance as to their training. Do you believe that this one would make a good pet?”

“That one is possessed of an excellent disposition and a clever mind,” Hugo said. He beamed with satisfaction. “It would be my pleasure to advise you on the subject, Mrs. Devereux.”

“Does he have a name?”

“She does not. The task falls to you to name her.”

Jane considered the puppy, lifting her paws and regarding her nose to nose.

“Titania, I think,” she declared at last. “Which will suit her well whether she behaves as a queen or if she does some manner of mischief.”

“Titania it is,” Hugo declared, and the two of them entered into an extensive discussion of the proper care of a house dog.

Clement decided that it would be best not to mention Mrs. Ledford’s inevitable disapproval. He felt odd standing at formal attention while his master, mistress, and two other servants lounged about on the floor, but the prospect of joining them seemed impossibly forward.

He busied himself with herding puppies, keeping them mostly out of trouble. The puppies were moving slower now that they’d had over an hour’s worth of adventure, and most of them were now either napping or wobbling about in sleepy exploration. Clement returned as many as he could to the basket.

It was a relief when Jane at last declared she was hungry and sent Letty to ring for lunch. Hugo gathered up the basket of puppies, including Titania.

“She’ll need to stay with her mother until she’s been weaned,” Hugo explained. His smile was gentle and fond, and Clement paused in the process of straightening a cushion to stare. “As soon as she’s old enough to be away from Constance, I’ll bring her back, and until then you’re welcome to visit her in the stables. I don’t imagine it will be more than a week or two from now.”

“I trust entirely to your expertise,” Jane said.

Clement reached for the basket, wanting an excuse to stay with Hugo a little longer, in hopes that he might witness more of his smiles. “I’ll help you to the stables.”

“Clement?” Hildebert said.

Heart sinking, Clement put his most professional demeanour in place and turned about. “Sir?”

“I think I will take a turn about the gardens after lunch. Will you lay out my walking suit?”

Not allowing his disappointment to show on his face, Clement bowed. It was hardly surprising that Hildebert might require something of him after Clement had left him unattended for half the morning.

As he walked past Hugo without a glance, he could feel the groom’s presence as tangibly as heat from a hearth, radiating good-natured warmth indiscriminately unto his surroundings. Clement’s cheeks were hot when he reached the hallway, though his hands were cold. He clasped them, hesitating for just a moment before he roused himself to his duty and strode off to obey.

I
t began
to rain the next day, vacillating between a spitting drizzle and a steady downpour.

Clement spent the morning running up and down the stairs on small tasks to ameliorate Hildebert’s boredom.

Where was the latest issue of the Gentleman’s and London Magazine? Had it been left in the carriage?

It had not. Clement was sure of it, but the magazine could not be found, so there was nothing to be done but that Clement must run to the carriage house and check between the cushions in search of it.

The carriage had been emptied of its luggage and accoutrements, and cleaned. The magazine was nowhere to be found.

By the time he returned, Hildebert had found the magazine among the bed clothes after—Hildebert now recalled—he had been reading it last night.

Hildebert wanted a walk, despite the rain, so Clement ran about fetching his oiled greatcoat, gloves, and hat. Armed with an umbrella, Hildebert got only as far as the front door before insisting that perhaps Clement should accompany him, and then there was nothing to be done but that Clement should dress himself for the weather. When they at last ventured outside, the rain had lessened. Hildebert only endured a few bursts of wind before cursing the hellish Welsh rain (sent over the border, it seemed, by Welsh conspiracy) and insisting that they return indoors.

By lunch, Clement was exhausted.

While Mr. and Mrs. Devereux lunched, Clement was sent out into the rain in search of Hildebert’s pocket watch. It was not in his pocket, which meant it might have been dropped outside on their brief promenade.

Clement found nothing, and itched to make a search of Hildebert’s coat pockets. There was, however, no polite way to suggest such a thing.

Trying to excuse himself long enough to change out of his wet things, Clement was detained several further to aid in brainstorming activities for after lunch. Only when Jane suggested cards was Hildebert satisfied, and then only once Clement had agreed that he would play and that he would secure Letty likewise to be a fourth player for the game.

Warm and renewed in dry clothing, Clement leaned against one of the bare walls in his little room and breathed deeply, taking his few minutes of respite while he could find them.

His window looked out upon the stables by an angle. If he stood to one side of the window, he could see most of the structure. It was a large stable for an estate of this size. Clement supposed it had been built by a former owner of the estate with more inclination toward hunting than Hildebert.

The bell in his room rang, jangling him out of his reverie. Clement shook his head to clear it.

Hildebert, Jane, and Letty were waiting at the card table by the time Clement arrived upstairs.

“Clement! There you are. Come and play.”

Slightly out of breath from having hurried up the stairs, Clement took his seat at the table and reached for the hand of cards awaiting him. He felt most uncomfortably out of place, having never in his life been called upon to play hands with persons of quality.

Letty didn’t seem to notice, but Clement already knew that both Letty and Jane were more inclined to spend their evenings playing cards with each other than employed in suitable feminine pursuits like embroidery.

“What is the game?” he asked, taking up the cards.

“Whist,” Jane said. “Do you know it?”

It had been a popular pastime in the servants’ quarters in London. Clement nodded.

“How pleasant this is!” Hildebert enthused, gaining an early advantage in the game. “We ought to play more often.”

“Perhaps you might make a habit of hosting card-parties for the local society,” Clement suggested, concerned about Jane and Hildebert’s new tendency to take their body servants as acceptable company.

“Local society!” Hildebert exclaimed. “What, the sheep?”

“To be sure,” Jane said, “there must be some human neighbours in our vicinity.”

“Mrs. Ledford would know,” Clement said.

“I shall inquire with her,” Jane said.

Hildebert was less interested in the prospect of local society. “Whose go is it?”

“Yours, darling.”

“Ah! So it is.”

“What about a garden-party?” Letty suggested.

In unison, the group turned their heads toward the window. The gardens outside were very wet and gloomy.

“If only Wales had better weather,” Hildebert despaired.

Clement’s grip tightened on his cards. “We are in England.”

Letty coughed.

“What if we set it in the conservatory?” Jane proposed. “A garden party in a conservatory, wouldn’t that be lovely! Has anyone been to the conservatory yet? Is it pleasant?”

“Crowded,” Clement said. He thought of a flock of country nobles crammed into the serene charm of the conservatory and felt an immediate resistance to the idea. “There’s hardly room for anything but the foliage. No space for any sort of party.”

“What a pity,” Jane sighed. “The gardens, then. I think that would be very nice. And if the weather is poor, we shall simply relocate into the sunroom.”

As they played, Clement could see someone moving about in the conservatory. It was most likely the gardener, Miss Grant, seeing to her duties. There was a smaller possibility that it might be Hugo. The conservatory would be a very pleasant place to take refuge from the work of the stables. Perhaps too pleasant! There was every chance that Hugo might have an acquaintance of some sort with the gardener.

“Clement,” Jane said.

Clement startled. His companions blinked at him.

“It’s your play.”

A
s soon as
the game was finished, the idea of the garden party was taken up in earnest. Letty retrieved paper and Jane’s appointment-book, while Clement fetched Mrs. Ledford for her help compiling a list of potential guests.

Conversation in the servants’ parlour stopped as Clement stepped into the room. Two of the maids, a footman, and Mrs. Ledford were seated in the room, taking their tea. All four of them stared at him.

“Ah,” Clement said, and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ledford. Might you be available to come and speak with the master and mistress of the house?”

Mrs. Ledford set down her cup and stood.

“There’s some idea of hosting a garden party,” Clement explained to her, maintaining professional cheerfulness despite his discomfort at being the centre of attention in the room. “Mrs. Devereux hoped you might be able to offer some aid in composing a list… a list of local… local personages. Of quality. Who might wish to attend a… a garden party, you see.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Mrs. Ledford said, crisply. She walked past him to the door.

Clement supposed he had not been forgiven for his involvement with the puppies. He followed after her, dreading what Mrs. Ledford would think to see Letty sitting alongside Mr. and Mrs. Devereux like a sister.

Mrs. Ledford had a surprisingly brisk step. Clement was hard pressed to keep up.

He searched his wits for some sort of appropriately bland comment which might ameliorate Mrs. Ledford’s grudge or otherwise endear her to the situation at hand.

“A garden party will be pleasant, don’t you think?” His voice faltered embarrassingly on the false cheer.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Ledford.

Clement did not make further attempts.

Trailing in Mrs. Ledford’s wake, Clement wondered briefly whether he might be able to slip away during the creation of the guest list. He had yet to inspect the stables, which might be in any condition. Mrs. Devereux would be pleased if he were to bring news of Titania.

Clement slowed his steps, allowing Mrs. Ledford more of a lead.

When there resulted no reprimand, Clement stopped completely. Mrs. Ledford turned the corner at the end of the hall without looking back. Clement’s heart quickened. It was very bold to assume that Hildebert would not require him in the next half an hour.

The condition of the stables would of course fall under Mr. Midgley’s oversight. If Jane wanted a report on Titania’s status, she had half a dozen better ways to request it.

It was quiet in the hallway. Clement could hear the distant murmur of voices from the drawing room. He felt buoyed on a moment of freedom.

Mr. Midgley was, after all, very new at his duties and had never expected to find himself the butler of a country estate. It might not have occurred to him to oversee the stables.

Clement turned and made his way down the steps.

The weather outside had improved to being merely unpleasant rather than miserable. Clement took no precautions other than an umbrella and a pair of leather Wellington boots before he made his way to the stables.

It was warm inside the stables. He could hear the soft whisk of a horse’s tail, and their collective breathing. Two of the horses had their heads over the doors to their stalls, watching Clement with docile interest.

He could hear rustling and quiet yips from the back of the large stable, and made his way further in to investigate.

The puppies and their mother had a stall at the back of the stable. Most of them were napping. A few tussled or explored the stall in search of adventure. One of them spotted Clement and yipped, charging to the stall door and wagging its tiny tail in greeting. Within moments, most of the puppy pack had awakened, spotted their visitor, and begun trying to jump or climb over the stall door, without success.

It was a roiling mass of black and brown bodies. Clement had no idea which was Titania. They were all similar: short legs, long bodies, white bellies with brown and black patterning on their head and backs. Even the mother was comically short-legged and small. Clement had no idea how anything so tiny could function as a herding dog.

“Mr. Adair?”

Hugo stood in the centre of the stables, several steps in front of a smaller side door. He was backlit by the hazy, rain-veiled light from the door at the front which Clement had left open, which cast light upon his dark brown hair. Everything about him was unprepossessing, including his neat but unexceptional working clothes, but the friendly, bemused smile on his lips.

“Mr. Ogden,” Clement said.

The stables were well-kept and clean. The horses and dogs seemed healthy and the structure appeared sound. Clement had no idea how one might further inspect the proper maintenance and condition of a stables, and was not about to question Hugo’s competence.

“I came to see Titania,” he said, since that was the only excuse he could offer.

Hugo’s smile widened. “She’s doing well. It will still be a week or so before she’ll be ready to move into the main house.”

Reaching past Clement, Hugo unlatched the door to the stall. The puppies pushed it open and tumbled out around Clement’s ankles.

“Oh,” said Clement, remembering the last time the puppies had been loosened upon the world. “Oh, dear.”

Hugo gathered up one of the puppies and held it while the rest romped around their ankles. “Do you not like puppies, Mr. Adair?”

Clement felt a deep longing to insist that Hugo call him Clement, though that would be very familiar for their one-day acquaintance. “I’ve never had much opportunity to find out.”

“Opportunity,” Hugo said, offering the puppy, “has arrived.”

Taking the puppy gingerly, Clement looked from it to Hugo in search of instruction as to what he ought to do now. The puppy squirmed in his arms, and yipped.

“You missed the chance to see yesterday’s demonstration,” Hugo said, and then clicked his tongue. “Constance.”

The mother dog, who had been waiting inside the stall with barely-contained worry for her children, trotted out and smoothly herded all the puppies into a neat line. They sat politely, like a row of school children, looking to Hugo with rapt attention.

He distributed treats among them.

The puppy in Clement’s hands squirmed more urgently, and Clement set it down. It quickly took its place in line, sitting proudly with head raised in order to receive its treat.

“You’ve trained them,” Clement said, surprised to discover that the unruly puppies weren’t unruly at all under proper supervision.

“They’re herding dogs. It’s my duty to train them.”

“But they’re so small. Even Constance. What in the world could they herd effectively? Ducks?”

Hugo laughed. It was a warm, rich sound, that went on for several moments. “I suppose they could herd ducks, if they set their minds to it. They’re meant to herd cows.”

The row of tiny puppies gazed earnestly up at them. Hugo's gaze had a similar earnestness.

“Cows,” Clement said.

“They nip at their heels, and are too short to be kicked.”

A brief huff of laughter escaped from Clement. He bit down on his lower lip to try and contain his mirth, but a delighted grin nonetheless curved his lips.

“Cows,” he said again.

“Constance,” Hugo said, snapping his fingers and making a circular gesture.

With dutiful composure, the mother dog whirled into action and herded all of her charges neatly back into the stall. Hugo shut the door and latched it.

Returning his attention to Clement, Hugo opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated. After a moment, he managed, “They’re trained to do a variety of tricks, as well. I can show you their entire repertoire, if it pleases you.”

“Sometime,” Clement agreed. “Perhaps. I haven’t enough time now.”

“Did you require anything else?” Hugo asked. It wasn’t dismissive, but encouraging, offering him a chance to make some other excuse to stay.

“I,” Clement said. “I have yet to see you in the servant’s parlour, with the others.”

“Ah.” Hugo ducked his head apologetically. “I often prefer my own company. There’s an apartment above the stables, you see. My accommodations here are more comfortable than any I might be afforded in the main house, and I usually prefer to dine alone.”

“I see,” Clement said. His cheeks heated. “I’ve intruded upon your privacy. Forgive me.”

“You haven’t.” Hugo said it earnestly, and then tightened his jaw. Some flaw in the wood of the stable door drew his attention and he fixated a moment upon it. “You… perhaps you’d be interested in a tour of the stables? If… if you have the time.”