4

My ballroom!

Purple and violet striped? More gold leaf. If she starts on my Grendey japanned chairs I shall have to intervene.

There is nothing that need be done to the ballroom, I tell you, not one thing.

I must be calm. All this excitement overwhelmed me and then I may become distracted during flying lessons; not at all a good idea.

What do you think of Lucas, then? And Spade-Filbert? I only came across ’em because I was spy…I was looking into Adam Chillworth’s secrets.

Now, now, no arguments on that score. He’s a secretive one. Did you know he had a brother, or a titled mother, or that he was Countess Manthy’s grandson and the late Count Manthy’s favorite? And what about the trust, I ask you? I heard Lucas talking to Rolly about it and you may be sure I was shocked, both at the possible amount and at Adam’s stupidity for leaving it unclaimed.

There’s more there than has so far met the eye, but I have my ways and I’ll know all there is to know about the man.

The main point is that with a tidy fortune at his disposal, and a fine family he may not have talked about, but which certainly will be talked about shortly—well, he becomes more eligible, doesn’t he?

Well, you say, all well and good, then. This will go smoothly and be accomplished in no time.

Rubbish!

Everything else—no, there is one more development that’s going just as planned, better than planned even. Hester. Did you see how her eyes sharpened when it was suggested she should pursue a certain social reputation. Purple and violet aside, this may prove a brilliant move. Actually, if there had been time I would have made sure Number 7 was The Invitation everyone pined for years ago. I considered it when I was…you know, present.

Nosy, aren’t you? You want to know why I want Hester to turn into The New Hostess. Because, my addlepated friends, what could give Hester more reason to encourage Adam and Desirée to take themselves off—together—than her need to put this house in order. How would she explain to Princess Lieven, Lady Castlereagh, the Duke of Wellington…ah, yes, Wellington and all manner of other dukes and duchesses, statesmen, heads of state, veritable crowds of royalty—ahem, yes, well, how would Hester explain to the Right company that she had a lodger in the attic?

I shudder at the thought.

Protegé, you say? Hah, she would never be believed if she said she had a protegé in the attic and it turned out to be Adam Chillworth. Apparently that fellow has been painting the rich and famous all over London for several years. He’d be recognized and then what might they think of the arrangement. Most peculiar is what they would surmise. He’d embarrass her. No, she’ll be kind to him but she’ll be very helpful to us.

Clever of me to use Adam’s own brother to introduce Rolly Spade-Filbert into the circle, wasn’t it? The moment I saw him I knew he’d be useful. I’ll admit it’s a challenge to “guide” one with such a strong mind, but I trust my own ability. I knew he’d be interested in Adam’s connections, y’know, that he’d see them as an opportunity to weasel himself into a new set (I mean the Etrangers) since he’s outworn his welcome almost everywhere else.

Lucas is apparently a changed man, a gentler man. Rolly is already working on him to encourage Adam to court Princess Desirée.

But that is absolutely ALL that is going according to my plan.

Spade-Filbert all but drooled over Hester and if I didn’t know it was impossible, I’d think he lusted after her. Pah, after her money, more like—and Number 7. We can’t afford to leave anything to chance. Spade-Filbert must be closely watched. If you notice anything, ANYTHING that suggests he’s too busy with some selfish little plan of his own to concentrate on mine, speak—no, just make a sign. Spade-Filbert must limit his activities to encouraging Hester to pursue a brilliant social future, and pushing Lucas to talk his brother into—running away with Desirée! Of course, that’s just the thing. An elopement!

That’s that for now, then.

Really, I wasn’t going to say more, but after all, I am only someone who used to be human. You know it isn’t like me to complain, but I am truly embarrassed by all this. Reverend Smiles (I already told you he’s Meg and Sibyl’s departed father) has become my loyal mentor. Now this is all very well and I admit the wings are growing in nicely, although there has been no discussion of my halo, but it does make for a frustrating situation when I know Smiles would rather I not interfere at Number 7. He is grateful for the help I gave his daughters but he would be annoyed if he should discover I’m still—well, guiding the living because they need my help.

Fie, I see uninvited trouble on the horizon and there’s no place to escape without looking foolish. What’s he doing here uninvited, anyway?

I must be polite. “What, ho, there, Will. Coming to admire my home?”

Look at the way he’s turning his nose up at my fabulous swan ewer. “What’s that, Will? Mr. Shakespeare to me, you say? What a sense of humor you have. After all we’ve shared you’ll always be Will-the-Wit, Witty-Willy to me. And you know I’m delighted to have you call me Sir Septimus.

“No, of course I’m not joking. I never joke. I feel a true closeness to you, Will.”

My, my, his writer’s wrist must be stunting his humor. “Can’t do that, Will. I’m not sure it’s even possible, why don’t you give it a try? Make sure you don’t break something in the process.

“If you cannot appreciate the finer points of a Benjamin Heely longcase clock, that is a problem for you. It is not an overfussy monstrosity. Your ignorance takes my breath away. The design is of brass on a black-japanned case and in case you didn’t notice, the face is silvered.”

Give me patience, my dear friends.

Let’s see how he copes with meddling. “I wanted to talk to you about Mistress Hathaway’s home in Stratford. It’s as much my business as this house is yours so I’m going to offer my valuable help. That place must mortify you. It’s SO rustic.

“Hah. When you criticize me, you are being helpful. When I offer you expert advice, I am interfering.”

Oh, piffle, have you ever tried to clap your hands when…no, of course you haven’t, yet. Take my word for it, one is never prepared for the sound of one hand clapping…Anyway, good old Will’s gone off in a huff and good riddance. He’s a spy you know, looking for ways to stunt my angelic advances.

I must get on, and so must you. Whether you realize it or not, we have a lot to accomplish in a little time. Adam and Desirée must be safely bedded and wedded, in whatever order proves most expedient, before the Count can start parading Desirée before every fortune hunter in the land.

Believe in me, my dear friends. I know you think me harsh, but I am as interested in the happiness of our young friends as I am in my own interests.

You don’t believe me? Be cruel, if you must, but I have been known to be kind before—on more than one occasion.

Now, enough chatter. Meg has done us a great service. Desirée is “all Adam’s.” Indeed? A very convenient idea unless he takes Meg’s trust in him seriously.