Jane Feather - Charade by Unknown (howl and other poems .TXT) 📕

in the morning." The Earl ofLinton did not look up from the close-written sheet in his hand.

Peter Haversham had recognized the bold black script immediately. TheCountess of Linton was an inveterate note writer and in the six monthssince she had transformed the stately pace of life at Linton House hehad received any number of these hastily written communicationscontaining information, prettily worded requests, and, on occasion,terse instructions.

"Nothing wrong, I trust, my lord?"

"Not yet," Linton replied with the grin that still fascinated hissecretary by its novelty. Justin leaned over to fill his glass from thedecanter of port resting at his elbow on the smooth mahogany table inthe dining room at Danesbury. A ray of late afternoon sun caught thecrystal glass, turning the drops into translucent amethysts. "HerLadyship informs me that if I do not return in time to escort her toRutland House on the morrow, she will substitute a dancing bear for mypresence." He passed the decanter to his secretary, who was strivingwith remarkable lack of success to keep a straight face.

"Do you really think she would, sir?"

"Do you really think she would not, Peter?" His Lordship questionedgently, his own eyes glinting with laughter.

"I should rather imagine," Peter said thoughtfully, "that Lady Dannywill, as usual, set a new fashion. It will become all the rage forladies to go about attended by dancing bears."

"Quite so, m'boy." The earl swung a dusty, top-booted leg from itscasual perch across the carved arm

of his chair. "It is to avoid such acatastrophe that I must return—my social duty, do you not agree?"

"Indubitably, Lord Linton. Little of urgency remains here. I will speakwith the steward in the morning and expect to be in town myselftomorrow night."

As his employer made to leave the dining room a sudden thought struckPeter. "Ah, my lord? You don't think that perhaps Lady Danny hasalready acquired a dancing bear?"

"Sweet heavens!" The earl paused, his hand on the porcelain doorknob."A mangy, flea-bitten, starved, much abused animal in need of rescue,no doubt!"

"Well, after the monkeys, sir," Peter murmured diffidently, "it seemspossible."

"Probable, rather," His Lordship observed. "What the devil are we to dowith it, Peter?"

"I am certain Lady Danny will have some plan in mind, sir," the otheroffered consolingly. "She did with the monkeys, if you recall?"

"Will I ever forget?" Justin said feelingly.

Both men looked at each other, each remembering clearly that afternoon. . .Justin, with a group of friends in search ofa quiet glass ofclaret and some conversation, had walked into his usually orderly hallto find a scene of anarchy strongly resembling Dante's

Inferno

. Hisentire household, it seemed, from the lowliest kitchen maid and bootboyto the austere Bedford were gathered in squawking, gasping wonder.Peter Haversham, in a state of white-faced shock, stood by the openlibrary door, clutching its knob as if it provided the only escaperoute from a veritable madhouse.

Justin, initially, had eyes only for his wife, perched precariously andquite immodestly astride the topmost banister rail at the head of thecurving stairs. Her skirts and petticoats were hitched carelesslyaround her, revealing a most indecorous length of silk-stockinged leg,dainty ankles, and kid-slippered feet. She appeared to be holding abunch of bananas, he thought incredulously, offering them at great riskto lifeand limb toward something chattering and swinging from the immensechandelier in the hall.

"Danielle! Get off there!" His voice cut through the startled throngwho fell instantly silent.

Not so Danielle, who said reproachfully, "Did you have to shout likethat, Justin? Now you have scared them again and I nearly had them."

"Get down this instant, brat!" the earl thundered, forgetful in theurgency of the moment of the impropriety of thus addressing his wife infront of the servants. It was a voice very few of his audience hadheard before, but it brought Danny, in a flurry and swish of silk andlace, to the safety of the landing.

Linton turned, quizzing glass raised, toward his butler. "I find itextraordinary, Bedford, that my entire household can find no betteremployment in the middle of the afternoon?" It was said very gently,very politely, but brought a dull red tinge to that gentleman'snormally somber countenance1. Bedford bowed, turned to the group behindhim—a swift movement of his hand and only the earl, his startledfriends, Peter, and Danielle remained. The latter came down the stairsto join them.

"It's just a pair of monkeys, milord," she explained hastily. "Someorgan grinder was treating them most dreadfully and they are so thinand starved and I am sure he has beaten them and they have sores aroundtheir necks . . ." She fell silent as her husband raised an imperativepalm.

"Give me that damn fruit," he instructed sternly, making for thestairs. "You may explain later why you have seen fit to turn thehousehold into a menagerie."

"Oh do not be absurd, Justin." Danny choked back her laughter, runningbehind him as he strode up the stairs. "I am not turning anything intoa menagerie. If Peter hadn't behaved in such an idiotish fashion noneof this would have happened."

"What the devil has Peter to do with this?" Linton paused, halfway upthe stairs.

"Well, he screamed," Danny said scornfully, shooting the accused abaleful look.

"They attacked me," Peter protested furiously, "and I did not scream."

"They did not attack you! They were just trying to make friends. Whatpossible harm could a pair of scrawny little monkeys do you?"

"I think I have heard enough," Linton said repressively, anxious toprevent the development of a full-scale argument between his wife andhis secretary. His sympathies were very much with the latter whosewounded sensibilities would quite clearly require considerable soothinglater, but the earl was having difficulty controlling the deep surge ofmerriment that had become so much a part of his life since he hadbrought his wife to London to take her rightful place as Countess ofLinton.

Reaching the head of the stairs,