Diana's teacup rattled. What was this awful man's problem? She wondered. He'd taken one look at her and turned nasty. Well, she wasn't one to lie down like a rug and be tread upon. She said only, "Just as well. I don't look good in white."
"No, you wouldn't," Lyonel said in bland agreement. "You'd look too sallow."
"I believe," said Lucia, eyeing first one, then the other, "that I shall send both of you back to the nursery to learn some manners. Come, my boy, it's been two months since that ghastly debacle."
Lyonel stiffened. Lord, he should have known that Lucia wouldn't keep her blasted mouth shut.
"What debacle?" Diana asked as if on cue. Had he fought a duel and killed somebody? Had he lost all his money in a gambling hell? Perhaps he'd been ill, perhaps
"None of your business," Lyonel said. "Now, Aunt, why did you summon me here this fine day? I'm very busy, you know."
"At least you've come out of hiding," said Lucia. "How are Frances and Hawk? I assume you licked your wounds at Desborough Hall?"
"Aunt," Lyonel said very quietly, "tell me what you wish or I will leave. Now."
Lucia knew when to retreat and when to attack. Now it was time for middle-ground cajoling. "My boy, I do have a problem. Abercrombie let me down. I need you to escort Diana and myself to the Bellermains' ball this evening."
He groaned, loudly. "I don't think so, Aunt."
"If you're afraid that Charlotte and Dancy will be there" She let her voice trail off.
"I don't give a damn where Charlotte is or isn't!"
"Your language isn't proper," said Diana, sticking her oar in. Who was this Charlotte? Was she the debacle?
"As for you," Lyonel said, unable to resist her salvo, "why don't you go back to where you came from? Hopefully sallow women are more prevalent there and you wouldn't stick out so much."
"I am not sallow! I am tanned. Unlike youdandies, I enjoy the sun on my face. Of course, here, in this ungodly country, you haven't the privilege of much sun, do you? You, for instance, look pale and unhealthy."
"Aunt, good-bye. Miss Savarol, do as you please."
"Lyon! I will cut you up in small pieces if you take one step!"
Lyonel wanted to spit he was so angry. Then, to his utter chagrin, Aunt Lucia burst into loud and rending tears, replete with low, guttural sobs. He cursed under his breath.
He saw Diana rush to Lucia and flutter about the old lady.
"Oh, for God's sake," he said, striding back, "let me give her a brandy. And stop acting like a hen."
Lucia peeked through her fingers at that comment. Diana was alarmingly stiff, staring at Lyonel, while he was calmly fetching a brandy.
"Here," he said, thrusting the snifter toward her.
Lucia drank just a bit, gave another mighty sob, then tried to produce some tears to wipe away. Wisely, she daubed h
er eyes with her handkerchief. "Diana, my dear," she said, her voice moderately shaky, "won't you please go to Grumber and ask her for my hartshorn?"
"Diana wasn't a fool. Auntie was up to something, if she didn't miss her guess. And Auntie wanted her out of the way. So be it. She escaped the drawing room with alacrity. Maybe, Diana thought, Lucia would turn her blistering tongue on this rude far-removed cousin. That was her hope, in any case.
"Fine act, Lucia," Lyonel said, regarding her with his arms folded over his chest, his look ironic.
"Thank you, my boy. Now, tell me why you don't like your cousin."
"I don't even know my cousin, or whatever she is. What is she doing here, anyway?"
"If you will sit down, I will tell you."
Lyonel sat.