"If you are thinking of that voluptuous sweet, Lois Braden, you can forget her."
He was thinking about the stunning Lois, and his wife's knowledge of her momentarily left him speechless. "How the devil do you know her and her name, for God's sake?"
"Men, my dear Dancy, are so nave. It hurts me so to tell you that she is also now under Lyonel's protection."
Dancy sucked in his breath, but there was no anger against Lyon.
"Perhaps," he said, "Lois has a sister."
"They are all sisters of a sort, are they not? Cheap little harlots who ---"
He laughed. "You are truly priceless, you know that, Charlotte?"
"Shut up, you pig."
"I just lost five hundred pounds this evening. You might consider a lover who would pay for your services. Help defray the cost of all your gowns and the like."
Charlotte, her tongue leaden in her mouth, at least for the moment, slid out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown.
"Why bother, my dear? I have already seen everything you have to offer."
"I would say the same of you, Dancy. Would be that I had seen you more clearly before I consented to bed with you."
"You have no idea how much in accord with you I am on that!"
5
Are you listening, or am I talking to deaf ears?
—AESCHYLUS
"Diana, didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you, but I wasn't attending."
"Just leave, please, I should like to speak to Lucia privately."
"Why?" Diana demanded, lighting up like a Roman candle.
"Go to the park and play with the children, Diana."
"Yes, my dear," said Lucia, her eyes on Lyonel, "and take Jamison with you."
Diana didn't want to leave, but she saw no choice with both of them against her. She gave Lyonel a final frown and left the drawing room.
"Now, my boy, what is it you wish to say to me?"
"The most unfortunate event has transpired," he said. "A solicitor, a fellow named Manvers, came to my home this morning. It would appear that my great-uncle, Oliver Mendenhall, is quite dead, and I am, as you already know, his heir. He owns a sugar plantation on Tortola and I am now the proud possessor not only of the sugar and rum and molasses and whatever, but also of about one hundred slaves.
"He even wrote in his will about the Ashton whelp. You have told me the genealogy, Lucia, but I am still not certain that there is not a closer relative."
"And if there were?"
"I should dump the mess into his arms. Slaves, Lucia! One hundred of the poor souls. Damnation, I want nothing to do with any of this. What the devil am I do to?"
"You are his heir, my boy, just as you are also mine. Let me remind you that even if there were another closer relative, your duty would still be clear. There would be no dumping. Your responsibility is to carry out the w
ishes of your great-uncle."