Chapter 2-2
283 Words
Octavius acquired all his clothing from a tailor, but he was aware that not everyone had that luxury. He knew that shops existed where garments were sold ready-made, and even shops where clothes were sold used, but he had no idea where to find them.
Fortunately, the jarvey he hailed knew of several such places. Twenty minutes later Octavius found himself outside an emporium in Holborn. This bustling establishment held all the items he required for his next encounter with Rumpole. He exited the emporium with a large parcel under his arm. The jarvey he’d hired was still waiting. Octavius gave directions to his grandfather’s house on Hanover Square. “Wait here,” he told the jarvey, when the hackney came to a halt outside that imposing edifice. “I shan’t be more than a few minutes.”
Octavius ran up the steps and let himself inside without knocking. His grandfather-the-duke was in his eighties and no longer ventured out of Gloucestershire, but Octavius’s father-the-marquis and mother-the-marchioness were in London, along with their retinue of servants. Two footmen were lighting the hundreds of candles in the great chandeliers in the vestibule, under the watchful eye of the butler.
They all looked around at his entrance. One of the footmen teetered slightly on his stepladder.
“Lord Octavius?” the butler said, in that stately manner that all butlers had. “Your parents are—”
Octavius waved this aside. “Didn’t come to see m’ parents, Titmus. Came to see you.”
“Me, sir?”
“Yes. Tell me, Titmus, at what times of the day is one least likely to meet a servant on the servants’ stairs?”
Titmus blinked. “The servants’ stairs?”
“Yes.”
His question answered, Octavius went back to his rooms in Albemarle Street, where he spent the rest of the evening plotting.
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