Never Kiss a Toad

Chapter Seventy Nine

Etcetera and Franks traded the same few guineas back and forth in a card game for the seventy or more miles between London and Margate. Toad spent the same distance turning over in his mind the things he must tell Sal right away: he would fight any battle and defy any consequence to marry her at the earliest opportunity; he had several homes for her to choose from and make her own; he could take her traveling anywhere she wished to go; and there was enough money and ducal power for her to do anything she liked with respect to Society, including telling them all to go hang.

And her future husband—if that man were Toad—was a wealthy man in his own right, to say nothing of the tremendous fortune that came with the Wellbridge titles, and he had earned his way into his mother's company, not been handed a favour. He would be a husband she could be proud of, not an intransigent little boy bent on his own pleasures. With every turn of a carriage wheel, his elation rose at the thought of seeing her, and fell at the thought of his likely reception, since Toad had apparently, inadvertently, driven his Sally to marry another. There were millions of reasons she could have decided to hate him that much by now.

Several miles north of Margate, Haverford Castle loomed over its own stretch of coastline. It had been built on a cliff top back when its looming walls had been intended for defence, and not just to intimidate an awed countryside with the magnificence of the Haverfords. It was still light out, so someone would likely be at the gatehouse, and if not, the drawbridge might yet be open.

The castle was busy as ever, and grooms appeared to take the horses before the carriage even came to a stop. Etcetera stepped out first; as Haverford's spare, he was ensured a noble welcome, no matter how anyone felt about Toad. The butler who appeared was no one Toad knew, and he suddenly regretted his mother hiring Landers away to Toadstone Hall.

Thankfully, Etcetera knew the butler. "Winchester, apologies for not sending notice."

"It is our pleasure to welcome you at any time, Your Highness. Shall I assume you will stay for the night, as it is too late to make it to any good stopping place before full dark?"

"Yes, and for a few days besides, most likely."

Toad's unease was ameliorated entirely when the assistant housekeeper appeared.

"Maggie Canard!"

With a grin more suited to a young housemaid than a housekeeper, and the slightest blush, she made her curtsey. "Your Grace. If you will forgive the correction, it is Maggie... er... Mrs. Holcum now."

Eyeing Toad and Mrs Holcum, Etcetera made his arrangement with the butler. "If you'd make my room ready, and another for His Grace, I would be most appreciative. We wish to offer condolences to the family."

Winchester cleared his throat and traded a worried glance with Mrs. Holcum.

"Your Highness, I do hate to frustrate your plans, but the family is not presently in residence."

"Not in residence?" Toad asked. "I was told only yesterday Lady Sarah was here. Where on earth can they have gone?"

With the familiar blank look of Haverford servant loyalty, Winchester intoned: "It is not for me to say where the family has gone, Your Grace. They are not here, nor currently expected."

"Not expected? I have it from a reliable source she is supposed to be here, docked in Margate not a sennight ago. Is it possible they have not made it here?" Toad found himself a bit agitated. What if something had happened to them—a coach overturned or a boat capsized—and no one knew where to look? "Isn't the duchess in residence? I was given to understand she was unwell."

Etcetera laid a hand on Toad's arm, which Toad shook off, but took as a warning to restrain his temper and his tendency to hysteria. He was closer to Sally than he had been in years and needed the goodwill of these servants to advance his cause. This silence on the topic of the family was expected. It was why he'd brought Etcetera.