Page 77 of Better Than a Duke
“What the devil is this?” the marquis asked, shooting to his feet and grabbing hold of a napkin.
“They got loose!” Edmund shouted, waving the box lid under the table. “It took me forever to catch them!”
“Look out, Butler!” Bradley swung a platter at the nearest squirrel and knocked over a stack of oranges.
The curtain squirrel jumped, bounced onto the table, jumped again—and landed on Masquerade’s shoulder. “Get it off me!” she shrieked, shaking her arm like she wanted to throw it across the room.
The squirrel climbed up, digging its tiny feet into her very careful, intricate hair, dug its teeth into the stuffed bird there, and tried to yank it off her head.
“Oh no!” Becks wailed, covering her mouth even though for a split second Edmund could see her laughing.
“Help me, for God’s sake!” The lady flapped her hands at the marquis while her head kept getting yanked sideways.
“Right.” Lord Hentrose stretched out the napkin he held, strode forward, and wrapped it around the squirrel. With it squirming in his hands he tugged until it let loose of Masquerade’s hair, though it kept the bird. “Open the window, Butler.”
The butler scrambled over flung plates and cups and utensils and oranges and shoved open the window. Holding the squirrel at arm’s length, the marquis flung it outside into the garden. At that moment Lady Pauline’s lady’s maid charged into the room with a broom, Mrs. Brubbins behind her. She waved it at the other squirrel until it dodged away from her and out the window after the first one. Leaning out, Butler grabbed the wood-framed glass and pulled it shut with a loud bang.
“Cheeky little devils,” the maid exclaimed, lowering the broom again.
“Never mind that, Betty. My hair!” Lady Pauline wailed, holding the dark brown, lopsided tangle with both hands like she expected it to run away and jump out the window, too.
“Oy! There’s another one!” Edmund charged back out the door into the hallway.
George, the second footman, hopped about in the foyer, the squirrel attached to one leg. Moving in beside him, Edmund tossed the box into the corner. At the loud noise the squirrel froze for a second, giving him time to grab it by the scruff of the neck.
“Open the door, George!” he yelled.
Stumbling, the footman complied, and Edmund tossed the squirrel toward the willow tree. Together he and George slammed the door shut and then leaned back against it. “By all the holy ghosts, thank you, Master Edmund,” the servant said, reaching over to offer his hand.
Edmund shook it. “You’re quite welcome.”
Becks ran up the hallway, one shoe in her hand. “Did you get it?”
“We did. It’s outside.”
“Oh, thank goodness. That was mad!”
“Yes, it was,” her father said, walking up behind her. “What, precisely, happened?”
“Edmund brought a surprise—”
“I wanted to show Becks what I’d found this mor—”
The marquis lifted one hand. “One at a time,” he said crisply. “Edmund.”
“I caught three squirrels this morning, in the Grove House attic. I brought them to show Becks, but we weren’t supposed to open the box until we got outside. I thought they could live in your garden instead of the attic. But she bumped me because she didn’t know what was in the box, and I dropped it.”
He said it all in a rush, then looked up at Lord Hentrose. Only little bits of that were lies, but Becks’s papa had a very good ear for hearing them. Instead of responding, though, the marquis looked at his daughter. “Rebecca?”
“I didn’t feel good, but Eddie said he wouldn’t open the box inside. So I got dressed while he waited out in the hallway, andthen we came down and I shook his arm and asked him what it was again, and he dropped it, and a hundred squirrels burst out.”
“Three squirrels,” Edmund corrected.
“Are they gone?” Her hair still a dreadful, lopsided tangle, Lady Pauline walked quickly into the foyer.
“Yes, I believe they’ve all been removed,” Lord Hentrose said. “I am very sorry, Pauline. It was an accident, but in a household with children, I’m afraid—”
“Yes, yes, such things will happen,” she finished, managing a crooked smile. “I’m only… startled. Thank you for your conversation and a lovely half a breakfast. I hope we’ll finish the conversation we began very soon. You already know how I’ll answer.”
