This wasn’t the first time I’d helped him out by waitressing. I found it fun, I made a bit of extra pocket money, and since I was out front serving, I kept my eye open for the next Mrs. William Thresher.
I wouldn’t find any candidates for the role of William’s wife tonight, however, since this was an all-male club. But Rafe was part of the secret order, and I’d heard such scandalous stories that I was intrigued.
“Is it true that most of the political elite of Britain and sons of half the titled families belonged to that club?”
“The press does like to blow things out of proportion,” he said, sounding disgusted with everything to do with Fleet Street.
So not an answer. “So it’s true then?”
“Lucy. Henry Somerset was a soldier, and he was cricket mad. It was simply a place for young and well-connected gentlemen to enjoy sporting events and then gather for a very nice dinner and discuss politics. And perhaps to make those lifelong connections that would be so important going forward. Over time, I admit, a certain rowdiness and licentiousness entered into the proceedings. Yes, simply because a disproportionate number of prime ministers and members of the royalty have gone to Oxford, there have been a number of very influential people who were also Gargoyles.”
He could make it sound like they were serious young men discussing Plato and the Boer War, but I’d done a little digging of my own. “I read that their bad behavior was legendary. Many a restaurant owner has been heavily bribed to keep quiet. And many a tradesman’s daughter.”
He looked as though he tasted something bad. “Not tonight. This is a very special evening. It’s St. George’s Day. This is when we gather to celebrate the feast of St. George, patron saint of England and also the patron saint of the Knights of the Garter.”
This sounded like something out of a fantasy. “The Knights of the Garter? Are they something to do with the Knights of the Round Table?”
He got this look when I said something ridiculous. He didn’t actually roll his eyes, but there was a shifting of the eyeballs that suggested he would have rolled them if he could have been bothered. “The Most Noble Order of the Garter is an extremely old order, Lucy. It began in 1348 under King Edward III, and to this day the order continues. There can only ever be twenty-four Knights of the Garter at one time. The ruling monarch and the heir to the throne are automatic knights, and the rest are appointed.”
“Are there any young, hot ones?” I was thinking, of course, of Lancelot and Sir Galahad.
Once more he did that not quite eye rolling thing. “I don’t believe there’s a single knight under sixty. And twenty of the twenty-four are in their eighties or nineties.”
Not a bunch of hotties then.
“However, other than Henry, several Gargoyles have gone on to become Knights of the Garter. So it has particular significance to our club. That’s the ostensible reason why several of the older members will be going tonight. We’ll get together with the current members, have a toast and a few words, and then we’ll go upstairs for our quiet dinner and let them get on with theirs.”
“And I’ll be serving them.”
“Exactly.”
He shifted a little from one foot to the other. For a man who was usually so still, it was jarring, as though he were jumping up and down and doing jumping jacks in his tuxedo. “Officially, the Gargoyles have disbanded. As all secret societies have been banned from Oxford university campuses.”
“For good behavior?” I asked, feeling cheeky.
He ignored my interruption. “The recent vandalism and general vile behavior do not reflect our values. There’s a continuity and a history that should not be broken. So I’m asking you and William to keep an eye on things. William says he’s also engaged a friend of yours from America. They’ll be under a parental roof, but I still felt it was best to have eyes and ears in the dining room to prevent any unfortunate behavior.”
Was I hired to be a waitress or a spy? “What do we do if things get out of hand?”
He looked at me. “You have certain powers that could come in very handy.”
“You want to put good behavior spells on them?” I wish I knew one. I’d use it on Pamela.
His lips quirked at that. “If necessary. And if you have the skill.”
That was a low blow. I was a beginner witch, and I didn’t have great control of my magic. I was taking lessons from the most annoying witch in the world, named Margaret Twigg, who loved to point out my deficiencies and make me feel stupid even as she was teaching me to get better.
“Call me if you need to. At the first sign of trouble. We can’t have another incident getting into the newspaper. The reason we’ve had to do a catered dinner in a private home is that in recent years, the Gargoyles have destroyed so many restaurants and caused so much vandalism that no restaurateur wants them anymore. Even if they can get a reservation, which they have to do under a false name, the bad press isn’t worth it.” Of course, I remembered looking at the Oxford paper over Rafe’s shoulder and seeing the article about vandalism caused by this supposedly secret society. Their name had to be part of the problem. Maybe when they started this club, they should have called it The Rosebuds or The Puppy Dogs. Gargoyles? I pictured all the terrifying monsters that leered in stone from all around Oxford. The boys were only living up to their club’s name.
“Are you sure it’s such a good idea to continue with this thing? If they’re so horrendously badly behaved that they keep breaking things and causing trouble,
