Plum Pudding Puzzlement

1819 Tambray-Thames, England

Lady Millicent George, acting governess in the Moorcroft household, was seconds away from setting the plum pudding on the festively-adorned, snowflake-covered table in the dining room. General Alastair Moorcroft, 15^th Marquis of Tambray-Thames, along with his wife Susanna and their three children (ages 5, 4 and 3, respectively) – Petunia, Pansy and Patrick – were gathered for a Christmas celebration to welcome their cousins for a visit for the holidays. Family were traveling from Paris, and the journey was typically arduous this time of year.

Conversation and laughter were flowing – as they often did in a household with youngsters. Millicent had been hired by the Moorcroft’s house steward and had been in employment for about a week. While she hailed from nobility, she was far from being in reduced circumstances. No, not at all. She had been hired to operate undercover, via the Ferret Agency, in London. The general’s children had been the target of some kidnapping threats, and the house steward had hired Millicent to investigate the situation. Her cooking was the icing on the cake and ensured her the position. Protecting the children as their governess was her main aim. The case had evolved and closed in record time – the housekeeper had left with the children last Saturday – without any evidence of a handwritten note or verbal request – and had not returned until the next day, on Sunday. The family were frantic. It appeared that the housekeeper was to attend a wedding up north. She had taken the children, as she thought a Scottish wedding might be of interest educationally and had actually left a small note for the steward. He had assumed the small, folded piece of paper was something for the trash, had discarded it, and no one knew otherwise. Until the parlor maid, Lydia, voluntarily offered her version of the story to Millicent (who, by then, had become ensconced in the home) and to Alastair as well as Susanna. When the housekeeper had arrived home on Sunday with the children, she explained she had become caught in a freak snowstorm with her husband and the Moorcroft children, It was, ironically, a carriage, ridden by the wedding couple, that rescued everyone and helped to return all to safety. Nothing further to solve, Millicent could have returned back to the Ferret Agency and to her similarly-comfortable life, but, instead, she quite liked this respite, in this home, for a little while longer. No telling what other secrets and activities were afoot here. The owner of the detective agency (and lead detective) was completely on board with the extension.

Tonight, all danger forgotten, she was actually having fun – realizing she was a perfect fit in this family at once. The children were darling, and she could not imagine any harm could befall them.

“Father, you must see our holly balls! Millicent helped us make them!” Petunia and Pansy harmonized.

“Yes, and I helped!” Patrick called.

“The children were wonderful. The Christmas craft today was quite productive.” She looked toward the children one to the other. “And fun!”

The plum pudding was the star attraction – the spices and aromas permeated the room, and the vision of the dried fruits was just that – a vision to behold. No sooner had it taken pride of place in the center of the adorned tablescape, than the butler walked through the double doors to announce that General Moorcroft had a visitor.

“Who is it Jenkins?” Moorcroft asked as he placed his napkin on his lap and prepared to rise along with Susanna.

“It is a gentleman, General. He did not offer his name. But he said you would know him immediately.”

“Is that so? Well, I am duly intrigued.” Moorcroft and Susanna looked at each other and, then, to their children who were far more interested in the prospect of the Christmas plum pudding. “Please. Send him in, Jenkins.” Millicent was puzzled. Especially because the family was trying to prevent danger – not entertain it.

Then, he stepped through the doors. A tall man, muscular, well-built as well-dressed in an emerald-green, velvet suit. Obsidian hair, with flecks of grey, tied into a queue. Millicent stood close to the door and froze as the man made his gleeful welcome and offered his glad tidings to all.

“Nicholas!” Moorcroft bellowed. “How wonderful to see you here! And a day early!”

“Indeed, Nicholas, Your Grace!” Susanna echoed. “Marjory,” she turned, directing her attending to the lead server. “Can you please add another place to the table for our cousin Nicholas?” Then, back to Nicholas, coming to offer hugs and kisses on his cheeks, added, “my goodness, we were not expecting you and your wife until the morrow. Will she be coming in the morning, do you think? We are all eager to meet her! We heard so much about your wedding in Aberdeen last month! It is a shame the children had colds and we could not attend!”

Nicholas was silent a moment. Then, another moment before focusing his attention on Millicent. Apparently, he thought better of responding to Susanna. Only smiling, saying “oh, indeed, she has been looking forward to Christmas for some time.”

Millicent stood stock still. She was unsure what to make of this familial scene. Only that she had to intervene and quickly. It seemed, though, the damage was done, and she could not fathom how she might crawl out from this hole.

“Millicent,” Susanna entreated, “you must meet our Nicholas. He represents the very best of us, to be sure!” She guided Millicent to where Nicholas had taken a seat and bade Millicent sit beside him.

“You cannot be here, Nicholas,” Millicent whispered, touching his hand and now signet ring underneath the table.                                                                            

“Ah, but, my dear, I can, indeed. I own the home.”

Their conversation not inaudible, the family stopped in their tracks to focus on Millicent and Nicholas and their careful banter.

“I am sorry, you what?”

“Nicholas Parker-Rowe, 8^th Duke of Tambray-Thames, at your service – otherwise known as Nicholas Rowan, Detective Chief Inspector of the Ferret Agency in Belgravia. At your service.” He winked.

“A detective?” the family asked in unison.

“Why, Nicholas, you have been holding out on us! It seems we do not know each other as well as we thought. Cousin.”

“A duke? How exciting!” the children clapped excitedly.

“A duke? Cousin?” Millicent queried disbelieving. “When were you going to tell me? I mean, we each lead clandestine lives, but you might have mentioned this…oh, perhaps, on more than one occasion. Really? A duke?! The home is yours?!”

“Naturally, Millicent. We all of us need some secrets. What would be the point in a healthy relationship if we did not all of us keep some things to ourselves? Christmas, it seems is full of surprises. I wonder what you might be hiding.” He winked again as he looked to her middle.

“I, I mean, Nicholas! How did I not see this?”

“Of course you were otherwise, occupied with your work. I could not ask you to feel the added pressure of blending into a dukedom. And, besides,” Nicholas added for good measure, “I wanted everyone’s main present to be, well, me. I have not been very present of late – so caught up have I been in the investigations into the Royal Household. I thought a clever reveal of myself and what I have to offer to our extended family would be just the glad tidings we all need this year.”

Everyone looked to Nicholas, speechless. Until Jenkins appeared, again, with a small dog on a leash. A pug to be exact. Addressing General Moorcroft, Jenkins queried, “Whose dog might this be?”

“Well, Jenkins, in fact, this little dog (and the dog hurriedly padded to Nicholas, disengaging from his loosely-fastened leash), is a gift.” He looked to Millicent. “For you.”

The children were ecstatic, and a new, comfortable joy floated around the table perimeter. Puddings and pugs…what could be better!

Millicent was the first to comment. “I must say, Nicholas, well done! Brilliant! Of course I knew nothing of this. As miffed as I might have been with you, my dear, that pales in comparison to the fact that, in one fell swoop, and, by luck, I have become joined with two families – well one, in fact – and I am overjoyed! This has been a most wonderful dream and a Christmas Eve that I shall remember forever. This was not the holiday we had planned, but it is the one we received. I know I was due to return to you next week upon your return home from Scotland, but I am ever so glad to see you now, in this house, with all of your news and your welcoming presence. A present, indeed! And a pug! What shall we call her?”

“Pudding!” exclaimed the children.

“Now, children, is that the plum pudding I have heard so much about? Moorcroft, Susanna, children, please meet my wife, Millicent.”

The End