Like No Other

Chapter 30: Mr Milborne's Hand in the Unfolding Drama

      The tranquility of Lord Mislington's townhouse at Berkeley Square early one morning was disrupted by the unexpected arrival of two young gentlemen. The rotund aging footman, who was somnolently wearing a wig, was abruptly recalled to his senses when a loud knock fell on the door, and mere seconds later, admitted the Earl of Stokeford and Mr Milborne; and was taken aback upon receiving a very brusque order to inform his master that his lordship desired a word with him. The retainer could only stare back and gape. "My lord?" he responded dazedly, as though couldn't believe his ears. After all, no one had ever asked an audience with the Viscount very early in the day, for his lordship only received callers in the afternoon. Lord Mislington was never a morning person, and to think of disturbing him in his breakfast abed proved too much for the poor footman.

     "Well, didn't you hear what he said?" demanded Mr Milborne.

     Favouring him with a look of reproach, the retainer replied with offended dignity: "Beggin' your pardon sir, but indeed, I did hear what his lordship just said. But I regret to inform you that my lord Mislington has not yet risen from bed, and that it would be wise for you to go back in the afternoon." Encountering the Earl's hard stare, the bravado deserted him, and he quailed, murmuring hastily: "Beggin' your lordship's pardon!"

     "You must tell him this is urgent," Milborne insisted.

     "I'm afraid I cannot sir, knowing his lordship might still be enjoying his breakfast —,"

     "Lord!" he exclaimed impatiently. "He can gobble his breakfast all he wants afterwards. Tell him, Stokeford!"

     "One of the rules when crossing my uncle's threshold Milborne," said the Earl, "is to mind your manners and your tongue, else we shall not attain our object here. Pray give me leave to speak for myself." To the lackey he said in no-nonsense voice: "My Uncle will see me, my good man. Bring my card to him, and we shall await his pleasure."

     Slightly mollified, the footman took the elegant card and, with a sniff, conducted both gentlemen to the library.

     "Well! I wonder how you could be as cool as any cucumber, Stokeford?" said Milborne presently, depositing himself to a winged chair.

     "Would you have preferred that I fly in a high-dudgeon? I wouldn't want to make a scene in this house. I had learned early in life not to lose respect for my beloved Uncle Mislington, under any circumstances."

     "I thought there's no love lost between you two?"

      Stokeford eyed him coolly. "That is an entirely different matter."

     "If I've an uncle who's messing with my affairs, I should definitely wish him to Jericho! What's more, it ain't a small thing to have consented to your mother's scheme, knowing full well that you had not agreed to anything."

     At this, the Earl's countenance became hard. He said in a controlled voice: "It is unfortunate, indeed, that this has occurred."

    "Unfortunate?" echoed Milborne with a touch of scorn. "It's madness! Sending the announcement of your engagement as cool as you please, and no one the wiser except himself and your mother! I've never heard of a more underhanded goings-on! I couldn't even begin to imagine how poor Caro received the news."

     "So am I," Stokeford sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. To Milborne he seemed to age in just a matter of days; so worn out that the lines in his forehead and around his eyes had become very patent. "And fact is, I don't even have a notion how to explain everything to her. I can only hope that she'll understand."