In Which Evil Wakes Earlier Than Usual …
The Loosening was felt from manor to lodge, arbor to alcove, garden to gable.
The strict rules that had long governed Smugwick Manor, the rules that kept servants obedient and M'Lady Luggertuck omnipotent, had been relaxed. Not done away with, mind you, but relaxed just a tiny little bit, which is more than they'd ever been relaxed before.
The servants weren't the only ones to feel it.
Deep in the bowels of the manor, an Ancient Evil stirred to life.
Actually, it wasn't all that ancient—only about sixteen years old. But it was Evil, all right. And its name was …Luther Luggertuck.
Luther, the offspring of M'Lady and Sir Whimperton Luggertuck and the heir to Smugwick Manor, normally slept late. But that morning the Loosening tugged him from his wicked, wicked dreams.
He felt the change, and it frightened him. He liked things Tight, not Loose. He liked being able to boss people around and treat them like dirt. It was his birthright.
He slithered from his room and went to see what was going on.
Peering around a corner, he saw Old Crotty whispering with Footman Jennings, who was also old but didn't like being called Old Jennings. They appeared to be flirting! Disgusting! Servants aren't supposed to enjoy themselves.
Putting his ear to a door, he eavesdropped upon Colonel Osgood Sitwell, a permanent houseguest at Smugwick Manor. Luther was shocked to hear the Colonel say thank you to Milly, the new maid. Disgraceful! Gentlemen didn't thank servants, they ordered them about!
While hiding behind a bush, Luther saw his father taking a stroll in the garden with a slight smile upon his face. Unbelievable! He didn't even know his father could do such a thing with his lips.
Sneaking in a back door, he came across Horton Halfpott carrying a tray piled with freshly washed silverware. The filthy boy was humming! No one hums in Smugwick Manor!
Luther tripped Horton and the silverware went flying. Normally Horton would have been prepared to dodge Luther's kicks and shoves, but he hadn't expected him to be up so early.
"Very sorry, Master Luggertuck," said Horton, because that is how a servant is expected to respond to the Heir of Smugwick's mistreatment.
"Pick it all up and rewash it!" ordered Luther. "I'll be checking it at lunchtime! If I find a speck of dirt, I'll have you whipped."
"Of course, Master Luggertuck," said Horton, already thinking of Miss Neversly's reaction to his returning to the kitchen with dirty silverware. And he'd be in even worse trouble if he tried to blame Luther.
Long before Horton had picked up the last of the spilled spoons, Luther had wound his way to the other side of the castle where lay M'Lady's Chambers.
Moving aside a painting, Two Dogs Eating a Dead Gopher, Luther put his eye to a secret peephole and spied on M'Lady herself. This was a thing he rarely dared to do. For one thing, he didn't want to see M'Lady in her underwear and, for another, M'Lady was the one mortal who frightened him. She was a Considerably Larger and Somewhat More Ancient Evil.
But all of the Unprecedented Marvels he had just seen had Luther rattled. He didn't know about the corset, of course, but he was certain his mother must have something to do with the Loosening, since, after all, she was the one who normally kept things Tight.
Ah, Luther, you scoundrel, if only you knew—the Loosening was just the beginning.
Another preternatural force had been unleashed, and it was at that moment a'hurtling down upon Smugwick Manor like a summer thunderstorm. A force stronger than any other, with the power to fell a man in an instant.
Love—yes, Love—was about to buffet the weathered stone of the manor, whose musty corridors had gone many fine years without it.
It is the collision of these forces that interests us, Reader. For without the Loosening, Love would have found no foothold among the Luggertucks and would have winged its way onward.
But Love, which had taken the earthly form of a letter to M'Lady Luggertuck, did find a place to land that day. And that letter also opened the way for robbery, rudeness, treachery, and Shipless Piracy. (It is my opinion that the Pickle éclair Disaster would have happened either way.)
Luckily for Luther—and the plot of this story—M'Lady read the letter aloud as she sat in her Letter-Writing Nook.
Dearest sister, ["HA!" M'Lady said with a snort.]
I ask, for young Montgomery's sake, that you put the unfortunate incident of last Christmas behind you. ["HARRUMPH!" barked M'Lady as she recalled the terrible events that readers will remember from "M'Lady Luggertuck and the Yule Log."]
Whatever feelings you hold toward me need not, I hope, prevent you from bestowing your well-known and frequently commented-upon generosity of spirit on my son, your nephew, Montgomery.
Montgomery informs us that he is in love. The object being a Miss Celia Sylvan-Smythe.
Miss Sylvan-Smythe is spending the summer with your neighbors, the Shortleys.
Might not Montgomery stay with you for a few weeks to increase his proximity to the young girl and thus also his chances of seeing the sweet blossoms of romance bloom? And perhaps most important, might you not throw a ball that the young girl be invited to? ["HMMMMM," murmured M'Lady.]
Signed,
Your beloved sister,
Duchess Carolyn Crimcramper
Now, M'Lady Luggertuck had often been asked to give balls before, for this or that niece, nephew, or illegitimate stepson. But as readers of "M'Lady Luggertuck Tries a Waltz" well know, such requests were usually crumpled up and stomped on.
But this letter was not. This letter was met with a "hmmmmm."
Why? The Loosened Corset, of course.
Normally, when M'Lady sat in her cramped Writing Nook, her corset pinched painfully, making her grumpy and rude when she wrote her responses. But today there was no pinch and her response was nearly cheerful.
"Yes," she replied—as Luther looked on in surprise—"yes, send the boy down, he shall have his ball, and the young lady, Miss Sylvan-Smythe, shall be the guest of honor."
And thus she sealed their doom.
