Page 2 of Fangs, Frost, and Folios
Caspar smiled. “She happily married Mortimer in nineteen sixty-eight.”
Giovanni muttered, “When he was sixty-eight himself if I remember correctly.”
“Not nearly. Forties at most.” Caspar shrugged. “Maybe fifties. He made her happy.”
“That’s the point then, isn’t it?”
Lady Penelope Percy-Reed had come from one of those venerable families who all married each other in the English countryside, keeping the wealth concentrated over the centuries. Caspar had been a student and the adopted son of a fire vampire, which meant absolutely nothing in English society. However Lady Penny might have admired the handsome young student who courted her, it would never have worked out in the long run.
Nevertheless, Penny was a bohemian, an artist, and a brash young thing who smoked and drank like a man of her time, drove too fast in her father’s sports cars, rode horses, took flying lessons, loved dogs of all kinds, and filled her weekend house parties with interesting people who had no money of their own. She was a patron of the arts, a consumer of good brandy, and a lifelong friend.
She had become a lady of the manor married to Lord Mortimer, an Englishman of ancient lineage and a man of considerable wealth, but Giovanni suspected she had never lost her verve.
“How is Penny these days?”
Caspar’s smile was soft. “Her great-nephew said she was very peaceful at the end.”
“Oh Caspar.” Giovanni’s heart sank. “I’m so sorry.”
“It seems most letters I get these days come from either heirs or lawyers.” He pulled a folded envelope out of his cardigan pocket. “She passed a little over a week ago. Heart condition. She’d been on medication for years; it wasn’t a surprise.”
“We’re never prepared to lose a friend.”
Caspar nodded and sipped his drink.
Giovanni tried not to let the silence stretch. “Where was she?”
“Hereford. She and Mortimer moved out to his country estate nearly forty years ago. Old Morty had a brother there, and they were close. They were quite involved with their niece and nephews and their education. The brother passed away when the children were quite young. A number of great-nieces and nephews in the new generation. Good family.”
“And one of them was with her at the end?” Giovanni nodded. “I’m glad.”
“As am I. She spoke very highly of the young man. He’s the oldest of the lot. Nicholas, I believe his name is. He’s a musician and a primary schoolteacher in the village.”
“And the twelfth something or other of Herefordshire?”
Caspar shrugged. “All that as well since the title passed from his uncle. They never had children of their own, so Penny was always quite glad that the children were active, useful sorts.”
“A good life then.” Giovanni raised his glass. “To Plucky Penny. A magnificent woman and a well-lived life.”
“To Penny.” Caspar lifted his own glass and took a sip. “Now, about Penny and Mortimer’s old library…”
Beatrice De Novo shut her daughter’s bedroom door, pretending she didn’t hear the indignant huff on the other side. Her fangs dropped instinctively as she turned to Dema, Sadia’s nanny and bodyguard.
“Military academy?” She took two careful steps from the door. “Do they have those for girls?”
“Absolutely.” Dema had been in the military herself, and she didn’t blink. “I can look up options tomorrow.” The woman’s face was implacable, her even features revealing neither amusement nor disapproval.
“No.” Beatrice closed her eyes and forced her fangs back. “It’s a phase. She’ll grow out of this at some point, and I’ll have my delightful and wonderful child back. This is just…”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve.” Beatrice sighed. “Tell me it gets better.”
“It gets better. You don’t remember being that age?” Dema shrugged. “Everything is a drama.”
They walked down the hall and toward the stairs. “You’d think I’d told her she had to cut off her hair and wear sackcloth instead of pick out her clothes for school tomorrow and go to bed.”
“B, don’t you know how she suffers?” Dema was already looking at her mobile device. “I’m logging into the captive portal, so she won’t have Wi-Fi in a minute.”
