“Oh, very well!” Lisette replied. “The baker’s wife from the village has moved in temporarily. The Ladies’ Committee is going to hire a new headmistress. In the meantime, I’m arranging everything myself. It will be just fine, I’m sure.”
Eleanor hated to be such a doubting Thomas. But it seemed to her that someone energetic and truly directed was needed to head up the orphanage. Whereas Lisette was energetic in bursts, generally only when she became obsessed with a project, as she was now. The treasure hunt was all she could speak of.
“Do you think that fifty pounds is enough?” Lisette was asking.
“Fifty pounds?” the duchess asked. “What for?”
“The first child to bring back all four items will win fifty pounds,” Lisette explained. “It’s enough to set her up in an apprenticeship.”
“That’s a very generous thought,” Villiers said.
Lisette beamed at him. “I would love to fund all of the orphans, but I don’t have enough pin money. Luckily, I rarely spend it, so I have enough for one orphan this time.”
The worst of it was that she meant it. Lisette would readily give all her money to the orphans. Eleanor found herself picking at her food and letting the discussion whirl around her. Villiers threw in fifty pounds for another prize. She was rather surprised when her mother offered a third prize, but put it down to the effect of laudanum together with the general air of virtue around the table.
“I spend all my pin money on gowns,” Anne said. “Though I hate to lower the altruistic tone by admitting it.”
“I must ask Aunt Marguerite if she would sponsor an orphan as well,” Lisette was saying.
“Lady Marguerite is an eccentric,” the duchess murmured. She was starting to look rather more befuddled than at the start of the evening.
“Mother,” Eleanor said, “I’m not sure that wine and laudanum are a good mix.”
“But I feel better. So—So much better. Really, so much better.”
“You’re three sheets to the wind,” Lisette commented.
“What did you say?” the duchess asked, peering at her.
“You’re totty,” Lisette said, louder. “Top-heavy. Sluiced over.”
“That’s enough,” Her Grace said, standing up with just a mild waver. “You always were a rude little girl, and you’ve only become worse. I can’t abide you.” And with that, she left.
Anne was grinning behind her napkin, but Villiers’s face was utterly expressionless. “I’m sorry, Lisette,” Eleanor said into the silence that greeted the slam of the door. “I think the laudanum and wine are influencing my mother’s temperament.”
“My mother always said that your mother was small-minded,” Lisette said cheerfully.
Eleanor wasn’t sure how to speak to that assessment, so she returned to her sole à la venitienne.
“Did you know that your children plan to participate in the treasure hunt, Leopold?” Lisette asked.
He looked up, rather startled. “Will they indeed?”
“Tobias at least.” She returned to her list.
“How exactly will the hunt work?” Villiers asked.
“Each clue leads you to a location, and tells you to bring back an object. We’ll give out all four clues at once; that way the children won’t end up just trooping around after each other.”
“Won’t Tobias have an advantage over the other children, since he has been living here for several days?” Eleanor asked.
“Perhaps,” Lisette said. “But I’m sure that he will be a fine candidate for an apprenticeship.”
“Tobias does not need an apprenticeship,” Villiers stated.
“Of course he does,” Lisette said, not really listening. “He’s a clever boy. You could apprentice him to a violin maker, for instance. He might create wonderful instruments. He has lovely fingers.”
“I plan to give him an estate worth ten thousand pounds a year.”
Eleanor took a sip of her wine. Apparently, Leopold had forgotten to share a few details of his anticipated home life with his fiancée. But Lisette merely shrugged. She was always easygoing—unless you crossed her.
“Tobias will not participate in the treasure hunt,” Villiers stated.
Lisette’s brows drew together. “Of course he will. He’s just the right age to win, and he’s already excited about it. You can’t disappoint the boy. I was in the nursery this morning and he talked of nothing but the hunt.”
“Tobias talked of nothing else?”
Eleanor knew what Villiers meant. Tobias was eminently his father’s son: he would never babble.
“In his own particular fashion,” Lisette said airily.
“It’s not appropriate for him to compete against orphans to win fifty pounds,” Villiers pointed out.
“I know!” Lisette exclaimed, clapping her hands. “If he wins, you can simply tell Tobias that he can’t keep the money.”
“You might want to inform him of that salient fact ahead of time,” Anne noted. It seemed to Eleanor that her sister was enjoying the dinner a good deal more than she herself was.
“I will instruct him that it would be improper for him to participate,” Villiers said, accepting a partridge served on a croustade from the footman.
Lisette huffed but went back to her list.
“What sort of things are the children supposed to fetch?” Anne inquired.
“I told you. An egg from the henhouse, that sort of thing.” Impish pleasure lit up Lisette’s face. “But they have to bring the egg home without breaking it!”
“And when will the treasure hunt begin?”
“As soon as Aunt Marguerite arrives,” Lisette said. “And my father, of course.”
Eleanor resolutely turned up the corners of her mouth into something approximating a smile.
“I won’t say a word to Marguerite about the Duke of Astley’s clandestine visit,” Lisette said, turning to her. “Though of course you’ll want to tell everyone, I’m sure.”
“Actually, no,” Eleanor said. Villiers’s head swung up and she avoided his eyes. “His Grace’s whereabouts are his own business.”
“You’ll disappoint the gossip lovers,” Lisette said, looking back and forth between two pieces of foolscap. “Do you think that the winning orphan should be crowned in gold or with laurel leaves?”
“Gold?” Eleanor asked, still avoiding Villiers’s eyes. “How on earth would you manage that, Lisette?”
“Well, there is an old crown in the west wing,” she said. “It’s locked up, but of course I could get it out. I think Queen Elizabeth left it here when she was on progress years ago. Something like that.”
“Your family never returned it?” Anne asked. “You’d think that Queen Elizabeth would have missed the crown.”
“Apparently there is some sort of letter she wrote in the library, asking for the crown back, but my ancestor pretended he’d never seen it. I’m due in the nursery to say good-night to your little girls, Leopold. Do come with me.”
He looked down at his half-eaten partridge. “I’m still eating.”