Best Laid Plans (A Gentleman of Misfortune, Book 2)

Chapter Eighteen

When Pennyworth returned that evening, he had nothing to tell me. He assured me that it would take time to find the right people who had the right information. Of course, I knew this to be true, so I swallowed my disappointment as best I could and resolved myself to wait.

And wait I did.

Young Walton's first letter to me arrived a couple of days after that. He thanked me for the position and promised to do all he could to help restore Pearsend. In the concluding line, he named the date when he would arrive at the estate.

There was no turning back now.

And yet, I couldn't concentrate on the problems of my estate. Pennyworth had promised he would learn what he could about Ingram's murder and had gone off to do just that. It was rather useful to have a loyal, clever servant.

Why had I gone without for so long?

Right. Because the valet my father had hired for me had been stuffy and formal and disapproving of everything I did. Pennyworth hadn't been any of that. So far. And I hoped he didn't change. Or, perhaps, I should take care not to do anything he would disapprove of.

Walking along the pavement, I let out a laugh. Never would I have imagined I would be afraid of making a servant disappointed. I wasn't a child anymore. My father's butler, Butler, had always made me shake in my boots whenever I'd come in dripping with mud from a day fighting with Phoebe Ramsey.

"You seem to be in a cheerful mood, Mr.Bywood."

With a start, I turned to find Mr. Appleton walking beside me. How had he done that? Such stealthiness reminded me of Ingram. "Good day, sir," I said, nodding an acknowledgment. "What brings you out and about today?"

"Doing my job," he said, his tone short. "As I said, you seem to be cheerful for one who has lost a friend."

 Was this some kind of trick? I don't think anyone could have thought I was a friend of Ingram's. "Have I?" I asked, feigning ignorance and shock. "Has someone else died, Mr. Appleton? This is shocking!"

His jaw clenched. "I think you know very well that I am referring to Conrad Ingram. He was your friend, was he not?"

 "First you say we did not get on with the man and now we were friends with him? Goodness, sir, make up your mind."

 "You can be friends with someone and disagree with them," Mr. Appleton said pointedly. "I've had friends over the years that I could have happily throttled, but that didn't mean there wasn't still friendship between us. Things can get heated when strong drink is involved."

"Friend would be an exaggeration," I said, choosing my words with care. "I hadn't met the man until I arrived in Bath a few weeks ago. Beyond the card game, I don't think we've attended the same parties or concerts. Our circle of friends was completely different. So I don't think we were friends. Acquaintances, yes."

Mr. Appleton pursed his lips. After a moment, he asked, "But your friend, John Ward, knew him."

"I believe it was mentioned at one point." The last thing I wanted was to implicate Ward or say anything that would make him look suspicious. At the same time, I couldn't lie. "I am unsure how long they have been acquainted, but I know they were not friends."

"And yet you played cards together."

He said it as if it were a crime. Was he one of those religious types who considered cards and gambling a sin? "I'm sure there are many in society who would play cards together without knowing the other players at all well. It's not at all unusual."

The man gave a harrumph of displeasure. "Then, you were not outraged to have been saddled with a derelict estate as a result of that one card game?"

At that moment, I regretted every negative word I had ever said about Pearsend. "I will confess I was disappointed when I learned about the true state of the place," I said with a dramatic sigh. "Of course, I ought to have expected something of the like, though. Who signs away a prosperous estate on a hand of cards?"