Rivals and Revels (A Regency Romance)

21. What Empty Room Could Tell

In Lady Catherine's eyes, Fifi and Peppe were angelic beings who descended to London with a singular goal to succor her. As higher beings, they didn't have—couldn't have had—the bodily functions of the common dogs.

"Jenny, Jenny!" Mabel shouted in a whisper as she sped down the hall, hoping to protect her employer from a shock of an unpleasant discovery. "Jenny, Fifi made a faux pas."

"You mean the wicked marmoset browned the carpet again?" Jenny yelled, with no regard for anyone's sensibilities. In her native Herefordshire, dogs smaller and less useful than spaniel weren't highly regarded. "Oh, bother! And I was 'bout finished here too."

Here, Mabel realized, was Everett's room. She peeked inside.

At first glance, the only personal possession Everett left between bare walls was an enormous globe. That was what Jenny was presumably dusting, though by her furrowed brow and squinting eyes, she studied it more than she dusted it. "Do you reckon, Mabel, this thing is accurate?"

"I believe so, yes," Mabel said, swallowing her surprise. She'd never suspected the maid to be a consummate geographer. "To the extent of modern knowledge and discoveries."

"Looks doubtful to me." Jenny pushed her dusting rug against Britain. "How can Britain be so small next to all other countries?"

"Ah..."

"I remember when Ma brought me to London, it took us two days, and there are many places farther out than that. York, Scotland and the like." Jenny gave the globe a big spin. "This thing ain't right, but it sure is fun."

"They are far out indeed, but..." Mabel started, but Jenny dashed out of the room. A moment later, she too heard Lady Catherine's aghast exclamations. Perhaps, after a few years in her current position, she'd develop a cat's hearing as well.

She should have followed the maid, but some force sucked her deeper inside Everett's bedroom. The globe still spun, the meridians flowing by, showing her a glimpse of Africa now, then the Americas, and even the only recently charted Southern continent of New Holland. Really, Jenny had no reason to sniff at it. But for her, it was Everett's presence, or, rather, his absence, that she couldn't resist exploring.

The room wasn't as empty as she'd first thought.

The simple bed was made without frills or bed-curtains. A writing desk by the window held nothing on its sloping mahogany board; the chair was pushed in. Three shelves, two stacked with books, and another one, with the war crosses, stretched next to it. There was a wardrobe, but Mabel doubted it contained his clothes, except maybe a spare winter coat. The wooden floor didn't have a rug to ward off the drafts.

No, it wasn't empty, rather it felt abandoned, as if Everett gathered his possessions in a bundle and fled before the approaching firestorm of Pompeii proportions. Even his military regalia didn't show off his vanity, but his absence.

"This room is bad for your sensibilities," Mabel told herself sternly. Was it her imagination, or did her voice echo? "Leave."

It was excellent advice, but she disobeyed. She walked to the bookshelf and drew her hand along the spines that Everett had touched. They were all solid tomes, the textbooks of his adolescence. What did she expect? A romantic novel he'd shown so much disdain once? Mabel giggled: for some reason it wouldn't seem outrageous with his tumultuous nature.

Among the venerable books, a thinner notebook, leather-bound, drew her attention. Stuffed between others in a hurry, a corner of it stuck out as if to tease her. Her fingers gripped the sticking binding and pulled. It was probably filled with his French dictations and such. She'd only check if she were right about his handwriting and put it right back.