“I am your only female cousin, Tony!”
“Oh no, there are three maiden cousins, all with protruding teeth, who live with twenty cats, and knit me slippers every Christmas.”
“Well, thank you, I guess,” Sinjun said. “Mellie. I like that name.”
To Alexandra’s surprise, her sister actually smiled and said, “To the best of my knowledge Alex has never before been flung to the floor and sat upon. I could but stare. You are very enterprising.”
To Alexandra’s further surprise, Sinjun, for the first time since Alexandra had met her—what was it, two hours before?—kept her mouth shut and her head lowered after shooting Alexandra a guilty look.
When Aunt Mildred, an older lady of iron-gray hair, thin as a stick, with a pair of very sharp eyes, said in her fulsome voice, “All this is not what I am used to, Douglas,” he knew that any calm at the dining table was at an end. He mentally girded his loins for Aunt Mildred’s offensive, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“Your uncle and I arrive with a message from the Marquess of Dacre, informing you of the imminent visit of his dear daughter, Juliette, who, as you know, is beautiful and sweet-tempered and immensely well dowered, to see this person on the floor and everyone yelling and babbling. Juliette is, incidentally, arriving tomorrow. She, I am certain, has never in her life spent even an instant lying on the floor, particularly with someone sitting on her. You have made a mess of things, Douglas. We discover you’re already wed by proxy to her. We’re told that Tony wed her for himself, the girl you had originally wanted to marry, not this one sitting next to you. It is passing strange, Douglas. And all of this without a word to us. It is perhaps an unwelcome omen that you are in danger of Becoming Like Your Grandfather.”
Uncle Albert cleared his throat. “Er, Mildred refers to your father’s father, Douglas, not your dear mother’s father. The other father died on the hunting field, if you will recall, back in seventy-nine.”
“All of us have heard of Dicked-in-the-Nob Charles,” Tony said. “But didn’t the fox turn on his hunter and frighten him so badly that the old earl fell off and broke his neck?”
“Tony, of course not,” said Uncle Albert. “The horse wasn’t all that frightened. It was a bit of bad luck, that’s all. Doubtless Charles was thinking about his chemicals and not really paying attention. And don’t be flippant, boy, it don’t become you.”
Aunt Mildred then turned on her spouse with ruthless speed. “Perhaps a hunting accident is what finally killed him, Albert, but he wasn’t right in his brain well before then. His notions of behavior were really most unacceptable—I mean, having three talking parrots with him at all times!—and his experiments in the east wing caused the most noxious odors to float throughout the hall, making everyone’s eyes water.”
/> Douglas stared, fascinated. They’d all grown up with stories about their eccentric grandfather. Then he recalled the awful bit of news his aunt had dropped. He groaned silently, then said with ominous calm, “You say, Aunt Mildred, that the Marquess of Dacre’s daughter is coming here?”
“Certainly. Your uncle and I invited her. It was time someone took a hand to correct this deplorable situation. You weren’t behaving as you should, Douglas. Now, however, what you’ve done is beyond even what I can repair. You’re married to her and not to this lovely girl over here who is married to Tony, and now dear Juliette is coming as well. It is quite a pointless tangle. I’m sure I don’t know what to do. None of it is my fault. You will have to make arrangements to set everything aright.”
And just how, Douglas wondered, was he to do that?
Aunt Mildred sat back and regarded her veal stew in awful gloom.
The Dowager Countess of Northcliffe said in a loud, clear voice, “I agree, Mildred. It is distressing, all of it. However, Douglas isn’t to blame. It’s Tony and this girl here. Tony took Melissande and left Douglas with this—this—”
“Mother,” Douglas said, leaning forward, his voice low and deadly calm, “you will moderate your speech. I am master here and I will be the one to decide what is to be or not to be.”
“Ah,” said Sinjun, grinning at her brother, “that is the question, isn’t it?”
Douglas gave it up. He had no control over anyone, even his fifteen-year-old sister.
The dowager continued after a moment, just a bit moderated. “Lady Melissande, should you like some more apple tart? It’s quite tasty, one of cook’s specialties.”
Melissande shook her head and asked her husband in a lowered voice, “Who is this Juliette?”
“Ah, my love, Juliette is second only to you in her beauty. But second, I swear it.”
“I would like to meet her,” said Melissande. “She sounds charming.”
Oh Lord, Douglas thought, that was all he needed, two exquisite diamonds glittering around his house making every man in their vicinity hard with lust, and numb in the brain, and incoherent in speech.
“Well,” said Aunt Mildred, “there is no way to prevent her arrival unless a highwayman kidnaps her.”
“Now that is a thought,” Tony said, grinning toward Douglas who was looking at Alexandra. “What do you say, Tysen? You’ve been very quiet. Would you like to court this Juliette?”
“Oh no,” Sinjun said. “Tysen is in love with Melinda Beatrice, but he will get over it soon enough.” Then Sinjun made all the motions of praying.
Tysen looked ready to box his sister’s ears. He restrained himself, saying with all the seriousness of a hanging judge, “I am shortly returning to Oxford. To complete my divinity studies. This Juliette indeed sounds charming, but I cannot remain. I am sorry, Tony.”
That stopped all conversation.
Douglas looked over at Alexandra.