“And why should she wish to speak privately to Father?”
Henrietta Arnold, Dowager Viscountess of Birks, was the widow of their mother’s cousin, John Arnold, Viscount Birks. Despite the marriage arrangement planned for Diana and Andrew in their infancy and the distance between Fernside and Hayward House being only a three-hour ride, the two branches of the Arnold families had not remained close after John Arnold’s death.
In her widowhood, the Dowager Viscountess appeared to be devoted to two main things in life: her children and a good-tempered but smelly golden Labrador called Fluffles. Diana’s parents considered that both the children and the dog were very much spoiled, which was perhaps the reason why the families had drifted slightly apart.
Their relationship was largely limited to visits during Christmas and Easter. The Dowager Viscountess had also occasionally brought her children, Andrew and Kitty, to join them on family holidays when they were all small. While kind, their aunt could be quite an overwhelming personality at close quarters, and it was always a guilty relief when she left.
As for Andrew, one of Diana’s only memories of him was that he had not allowed her to play with his elaborate model boats because she was too young and he thought she would break them.
In fact, being almost ten years her senior, Andrew had never wanted her to join any of their games, Diana now recalled. He had even called her a silly baby when she cried, and Percy had left the model boats to look after her. Andrew had never exactly been cruel, but he simply had no interest in her whatsoever.
The return of such childhood memories only strengthened the foreboding she had begun to feel with her father’s words.
“Maybe Fluffles is finally dead and she’s come to formally announce it and request that the whole family goes into deep mourning,” Percy suggested. “I’d love to hear what he would say to that!”
“If Fluffles is dead, she’ll want to build a monument in their churchyard with a dog-angel on top.”
“In that case, I bet she’d want a contribution from Father for the cost of having the best marble shipped from Italy.”
“Actually, I think Fluffles is alive and well and has finally got sick of all her fussing and run away to join the circus as a ring-master’s dog. The circus owner won’t let him go, and she needs Father to get him back,” Diana joked.
“Or perhaps when she met the ring-master, it was love at first sight and now Aunt Henrietta wants Father’s blessing to marry him!”
“Oh, Aunt Henrietta in a circus with Fluffles!” Diana giggled. “What would she do? I don’t believe she can do juggling or acrobatics, do you?”
“She can put on a beard and be the bearded lady,” Percy said. “They can both ride on an elephant’s back while Fluffles balances a ball on his nose…”
“In sparkly tights, long satin gloves and a jeweled corset!” Diana gasped, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.
“And that’s just Fluffles!”
They both now collapsed onto the sofa with laughter at the idea of their aunt in such an absurd situation. Diana could hardly wait until lunchtime to find out what really lay behind the visit.
ChapterTwo
“I’m worried about Percy,” Edmund Turner, the young Duke of Colborne, said. He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the dark oak side table in the small drawing room upstairs at Brook’s, a gentlemen’s club. “He was meant to be arriving back in London today, but I’ve heard nothing. I expected him to join us for dinner.”
“You should know Percy by now,” his friend, Jacob Boyle, Marquess of Wycliff, said with an unconcerned grin as he knocked back the last of the post-dinner cognac in his glass. “Easy come easy go. He probably meant tomorrow.”
“Maybe…” Edmund muttered, unconvinced.
“Do you remember when he was meant to join the shooting on my estate last autumn and he turned up three days late without any notice or adequate explanation? Just that cherubic smile and a shrug of his shoulders.”
Edmund considered Jacob’s reassurance, but the concern did not leave his green eyes and a thoughtful furrow remained between his dark eyebrows as he sipped his own cognac.
“Percy knows me by now, too. We’ve been friends since our schooldays, and he knows I’d expect a message if his plans have changed. I prefer to lead a more orderly life than either of you.”
“You certainly do. I’ve seen how you run your estate. Your agents must be exhausted. Still, I do expect this is just Percy being Percy. He’s an unreliable man but enough fun that no one cares. Don’t let it ruin your evening,” The Marquess said.
Edmund exhaled slowly, shaking his head.
“I’m still worried about Percy, but I’ll agree with your second point. There’s no use in sitting here and speculating. What do you say to another cognac and a game or two of billiards before we call it a night?”
“A fine idea, Edmund.”
* * *
“Hey ho, to town we go, to find a maid so pretty