Susan Carroll Read Online Free PDF Page A

to organize one efficient
central unit—”
    “My dear Nick,” Mandell interrupted as soon
as he could get a word in. “If you are going to start addressing me
as though I were a public meeting, I fear I will be obliged to
eschew the pleasure of your company.”
    “But—”
    “And besides, you know I am the last person
likely to sympathize with your notion of an efficient police.”
    Their eyes locked and Nick apparently took
his meaning, for he spoke in milder tones. “What happened to your
mother in Paris took place a very long time ago, Mandell, and it
was a different thing altogether.”
    “Was it?” Mandell said, his voice going cold
and hard. He was on the verge of leaving when Nick flung up one
hand.
    “No, I am sorry. Come back. I promise I have
done with my speeches about the police. This was not what I wanted
to talk to you about anyway.”
    Mandell returned, but he eyed his cousin with
wariness, wondering about the nature of the favor Nick required.
Nick was not often beforehand with the world, yet he seldom asked
to borrow money, at least not for himself.
    Mandell had a dread that Nick's forthcoming
request must have something to do with one of his infernal
causes.
    Nick cleared his throat, a bad sign. “Of
course, you know John Hastings.”
    “No, I cannot say that I do.”
    “He is my footman, the one who usually
answers the front door.”
    Mandell's brows rose a fraction. “I have a
vague recollection of some burly youth, but I have not as yet had
opportunity to strike up an intimacy with him.”
    “Don't go all haughty on me, Mandell,” Nick
implored. “The thing is, John wants to marry Emily.”
    Mandell regarded him blankly.
    “Emily, your downstairs maid.”
    “I was not aware that I had a downstairs
maid, let alone one named Emily, but I will take your word for it,”
Mandell said. “Now what is all of this to do with me? I am not the
girl's father to be giving my blessing.”
    “No, but it would be much more convenient for
John to be part of the same household as his bride. Alas, I am not
in a financial position to take on any more servants. So I thought,
that is I hoped, you might be persuaded to employ John.”
    Mandell frowned. “Sometimes, Nicholas, the
interest you take in the affairs of your servants borders on
madness.”
    “Then you refuse?”
    Mandell knew he certainly should. He kept
only a small staff at his London house. Nor did he think that
Nick's tendency to meddle with the lower orders should be
encouraged. This incident was a minor one, but as a member of the
House of Commons, Nick was forever pressing for reforms to
alleviate what he deemed the misery of the working class.
    “What the boy does not understand,” Mandell's
grandfather would frequently growl, “is that reform only leads to
idleness and dissatisfaction amongst the poor. From there it is but
a step away to revolution.”
    The danger of revolution was one of the few
points that Mandell and the Duke of Windermere agreed upon, born of
a shared pain. The old man grieved for the loss of a beloved
daughter, Mandell for the mother he had barely known.
    Mandell started to refuse Nick's request, but
his cousin looked so hopeful. It seemed churlish to disappoint Nick
over such a trivial thing. The fate of the nation could hardly be
affected by permitting the marriage of one insignificant
servant.
    Mandell vented an exasperated sigh. “Oh, the
devil! What is another footman more or less?”
    Nick brightened. He leapt up to shake
Mandell's hand. “Damme, Mandell. You're a capital fellow.”
    “Now is there anything else you think I
should do?” Mandell grumbled. “Perhaps arrange a wedding breakfast
for the happy couple?”
    “You needn't go as far as that, but a small
gift might be nice.”
    At Mandell's dark look, Nick grinned. “Only
jesting,” he said.
    Their business concluded, Mandell and he
stepped past the curtain, returning to the ballroom. If anything,
the gallery seemed more crowded than