Ask Me No Questions by Patricia Veryan

reckons on being follered, does she?"
    Grace said uneasily, "Not followed, exactly. But Sir Brian Chandler's heir was proper put out when Mrs. A. was hired. Very rude, he was."
    Tummet nodded. "That'd be Mr. Gordon Chandler. A bit stiff-rumped sometimes, but—"
    "Mr. Tummet!" exclaimed Grace, scandalized.
    "Whoops!" he exclaimed. "I'm a commoner and no mistaking!" His impenitent grin won her to a smile again, and he went on, "So Mrs. Allington don't want Mr. Gordon Chandler follering Sam Coachman back 'ere and asking all manner o' questions and finding out about Captain Armitage, is that it?"
    "Lady Buttershaw says there was so many wicked things said about the poor Captain, and Sir Brian won't bear with any least sniff o'scandal…" Grace shrugged. "My dear Mrs. A. fought so hard to win the old gentleman over, Mr. Tummet. It'd be cruel hard if she was to lose the commission now."
    "Then you better tell yer lady to take that there sign dahn, mate. 'Fore she sells something! Else there'll be another scandal, quick-like!"
    Frightened by his stern manner, Grace cried, "Why? 'Sides, she already sold some things."
    "Oh, Lor'! She shouldn't oughter 'ave done that, Miss Grace."
    "Why ever not, I should like to know? They was all her own things, what Mr. Allington had give her, and what belonged to her and her papa, rest his soul. Now why must you shake your head and look so glum as any goblin?"
    "Because them things
wasn't
hers, Miss Grace! Not 'cording to law, they wasn't. And afore you starting snipping orf me poor nose, I'll remind you, marm, as I were once a bailiff, and I knows. Fact is, I'm surprised there ain't been a execution at Lingways."
    "If you means a man sent to guard the house, there—"
    "Not just the '
ouse
, marm.
All
the property's been took over by the Court, so as to pay back the creditors."
    "And very cruel, I calls it! Besides, Mrs. A. knows about it. They've got their money. Or will have, when it's sold."
    He said patiently, "But what that means, Miss Grace, is that
everything
was confiscated. All what's
inside
, as well as buildings and grounds. Furniture and all, marm. Not
none
of it can't be sold by your lady!"
    "Oh!" gasped Grace, clutching his sleeve in her dismay. "Oh, dearie, dearie me! There
is
a bailiff's'posed to come today. But I thought— Mrs. A. thought 'twas to take care of the place lest thieves break in and— Oh! My Lor'! Is it very bad that she sold some things?"
    He thought, 'Not if you don't mind being transported—or worse!' But his admired lady was pale and trembling, and a gent didn't frighten persons of the female persuasion, so he asked, "Can she buy 'em back?"
    Grace pressed a hand to her lips and shook her head. "She hardly got a quarter of what they was worth. And she's spent what little she did get on paying off the servants and me, and making good on bills and loans. She can have back what she give me, of course. But—"
    Tummet shook his head ponderously. "That won't do no good, mate."
    With a stifled sob Grace again seized his arm. "Mr. Tummet, they—they wouldn't never accuse her of— I mean—they wouldn't put her… in
gaol
?" Distracted, she moaned, "Oh,
crumbs
! The poor soul's had so much grief, and been so brave.
Whatever
are we to do?"
    Enoch Tummet had survived a somewhat checkered career and was nothing if not resourceful. After a moment's frowning introspection he said briskly, "Right y'are, mate. We'll 'ave to cook-a-tart— I mean, look smart. But if you do what E. Tummet says—
eggsack
, mind!—we might just get yer lady safe outta this bog!"
    "Oh, I will, Mr. Tummet," said Grace, gazing up at him with tearful but grateful eyes. "I'll do
exactly
what you say!"
     
    It was five and twenty minutes past two o'clock when Grace hurried up the kitchen steps of Lingways. William, the footman, was seated in one chair, his feet on another, a mug of ale in his hand. Fully expecting a rebuke, he sprang up guiltily, his youthful face scarlet as he stammered