“I’ll be damned,” said Miles. “That bastard has killed your bonnet.”
Ivy’s jaw dropped as she gazed at the damage. Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted away in her husband’s arms.
*~~*~~*
Sometime later, the chaos finally abated.
“I didn’t faint,” protested Ivy, a glass of brandy at her elbow.
“I beg to differ,” said Miles. “Your eyes rolled and you went out like a candle in a stiff breeze.”
“Nonsense. I never faint.” She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I was merely overcome by the heat.”
“Hah.”
“Children, please.” Lydia’s voice cut across the squabble. “Everyone was very brave, Ivy included. Nobody was killed, and in fact none of us fired a shot at all. Which,” she frowned, “I personally find very disappointing indeed.”
Rose laughed. “Never mind, dearest. You can come and visit Linfield Lisle and shoot whatever you want.”
“Er…Rose?” Her husband blinked. “Be careful. She might decide to cull the servants.”
Under the general conversation, Ivy leaned against Colly. “And you’re sure you’re all right?”
“And again, I answer yes.” He smiled at her. “Not a scratch on me thanks to my brave defenders.”
“Ahem,” said Mowbray, tapping his teacup with his teaspoon and making his voice heard over the hubbub. “I have questions.”
“Go ahead.” Rose waved her cup at him. “I think we share a lot of ‘em, and I shall be glad to hear the answers.”
“Right then.” Mowbray cleared his throat. “Firstly, Miss Prudence.” He turned to her. “How did you know it was Streatford dressed as the worker, and where did you find the cricket bat? Also, if you’re free in July, there’s a spot for you on the Linfield cricket team. I’ve never seen a more convincing hit in my life. A six, without a doubt.”
His words were followed by a polite round of applause for Prudence, who blushed, stood, curtsied and sat down again before replying.
“Well, firstly, I heard that stupid giggle. Streatford’s laugh is unpleasantly unique. It attracted my attention and after a second look I knew exactly who it was.” She paused. “I just wasn’t quite sure what to do about it until I saw the bat behind the door. So I grabbed it and managed to sneak up behind him as everyone was watching you, Uncle Colly. Then I pretended his head was a cricket ball coming at me down the pitch. I swung. And I hit him.” She beamed. “I’m quite proud of that, actually, even if the sound was rather nasty. But it paid him back for the trouble he caused us all.”
“Indeed it did,” laughed Lydia. “I truly wondered if you’d killed him for us, which wouldn’t have been such a terrible thing if you think about it.”
“Bloodthirsty wenches, aren’t they?” Mowbray looked at the Duke.
“I had no idea.” Colly shook his head. “Remind me never to make any of ‘em angry.”
“That answers one of my questions. The other is in two parts and is for you, your Grace. Do you have any idea of what was behind Barrett’s anger toward you? And the ancillary query…who were those men in the dark jackets? You know, the efficient ones who seemed to vanish with Barrett and Streatford before we could say how-d’ye-do…”
Colly sighed and silently put his hand over Ivy’s as they sat together.
“To your first question, Mowbray, I don’t believe we’ll ever have an answer. Barrett’s mind doesn’t seem to work the way one might expect. Even when I was talking to him, about the most ordinary of topics, his responses weren’t…right. He seems to have spent a lot of time putting himself into the position of injured party and creating monsters who were responsible for his imagined persecution. The most important one was played in his mind by me.”
“So to him, eliminating you would put an end to his troubles?” Miles gazed at the Duke.
Who nodded. “I think so. It doesn’t make any sense at all to us, but then again, if we describe him as mad, then how can we expect it to?” He sighed. “It made sense to him. And of course that was all that mattered.”
“Did you know he had a hidden sword in that cane?” Mowbray slipped in another question.
“I did not,” replied Colly ruefully. “I should’ve thought of it. I should’ve thought of a lot of things, to be honest. It was a good plan, but there were flaws…”
“I think I heard Napoleon say that after Waterloo,” grinned Miles, making everyone laugh. “However, since we came out of it much better than he did, I’d judge the flaws to be few and minor.”
“True,” answered the Duke. “But I was so busy trying to work out how to avoid that sword, I never noticed Streatford pulling a pistol and aiming at me. It all happened so fast.”
Ivy shivered. “We were very lucky today. Thanks to our sharp-eyed Prudence.” She looked around. “That is not to say you all didn’t perform perfectly. Just knowing you were here, looking out for him”—she glanced at Colly—“it made a world of difference.”
“Indeed,” Prudence added. “I’m not sure I’d have done what I did without the knowledge that you all were ready to fire if needed.”
“I’ll wager you would have,” Lydia nodded her head at Prudence. “You were an honour to our gender, my dear. And I couldn’t be more proud.” She toasted the blushing girl with her teacup. “Your attack ruined his aim, thus ripping through Ivy’s bonnet instead.” She sipped her tea. “Fortunately, it was a tall sunbonnet.”
“Amen to that,” muttered Ivy.
At that moment, the door opened to admit Woodleigh bearing a large tray filled with brandy glasses. “If you’ll forgive me your Grace, I took it upon myself to assume that there might be toasts.” He passed through the room, handing out brandy. “It is indeed a time for
