The Garden's End (MLM)

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

                Already as Lord Westcott, Pip, Miss Westcott, Miss Bradley, a disgruntled Oliver, Jane, Amelia, and Mr. Colton stood outside under umbrellas to greet the guest, Pip felt he was getting better. Beads of sweat were beginning to make their way down his temple and he felt that perhaps two coats were too much, his body suddenly too warm at once, even in the cold rain outside.

This heat had come from nowhere, but it relieved Pip. He thought he could certainly handle a few hours, especially with the handkerchief Emily had given him to keep in his pocket.

He coughed discreetly into his elbow, and Lord Westcott had glanced at him without a word, but neither had had the chance to say anything because just then, Lord Garrick's carriage came to a stop, and a footman jumped forward from the coachbox, holding an umbrella high above the door before he opened it.

Lord Garrick was as big as he'd been the first time Pip had seen him, stretching to the expanse of the carriage door. His footman followed him with the umbrella, and he smiled widely at Lord Westcott.

"Robert, how are you this evening, how are you? Say," he said before Lord Westcott could answer, "you don't look as well rested as I thought you might! Not busying your nights with work, are you? A handsome young man like yourself should be enjoying himself more!"

"Yes, my lord," said Lord Westcott politely. "If you remember them, these are my sisters Isolde and Jane, my brother Oliver, and our friend, Helen Bradley. And this is—"

"Andrew Colton, my lord," said Mr. Colton imperiously, stepping forward to take Lord Garrick's hand before anyone else could. "A pleasure to see you again, sir."

"Indeed, indeed," Lord Garrick chuckled good-naturedly. "I—oh, Mr. Kensley!" he came forward and took the startled Pip's hand in his own, shaking his entire arm. Mr. Colton looked startled and most displeased. "How good of you to greet me, how good! Tell me, Robert, did our young Mr. Kensley give you the gift I'd entrusted with him?"

"He did," said Lord Westcott with a nod. "I assume you gave it to him rather than me to test his integrity?"

He clapped Lord Westcott's arm. "Well, you never know with servants, do you? But I can see you have an honest one here. Good young man, good indeed."

Pip didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted. He had no doubt there were people who thought all servants stole from their masters and ought to be watched diligently. It was another reason the Lady Westcott had to know where everyone was at every moment of every day. She was always in her room when they were to be cleaned, valuables were never left unsupervised.

Pip wondered, once again, if Lord Westcott was anything like his mother in assuming servants needed to be proven innocent before a crime had been committed.

As they all turned to follow Lords Westcott and Garrick inside, Oliver caught Pip's gaze and rolled his eyes at Lord Garrick's back. Pip smiled, thankful that at least he would have Oliver there to make the time go by faster.

The storm varied as the long minutes passed. At times, moonlight shined in through the windows, then the clouds would rule the skies once more and the land outside turned to black.

They had a number of candles lit, illuminating the tapestries of the drawing room, the carpets, the mahogany tables and armchairs. The large chamber was a wash of deep reds and gold, and Pip's eyelids kept fluttering of their own accord, awoken only by Lord Garrick's occasional barks of laughter or his not-so-riveting ventures of the past, which only grew louder and wilder with every glass of wine he had after they'd finished their dinner.