Page 39 of Blackmail at Beckwith Place
I placed my napkin next to my plate. “May I be excused, Aunt Roslyn?”
“Go ahead, dear.”
“Me as well?” Christopher asked.
His mother sighed. “Yes, Kit. Go on.”
Constance didn’t say a word, just watched with large, pleading eyes until Aunt Roz nodded. “You, too, Constance.”
“Thank you, Roslyn.” I waited for Christopher to pull out my chair. Geoffrey was gentleman enough to do the same for Constance.
“I expect you’ll want to use the gramophone in the drawing room,” Aunt Roz said. “I would be grateful if you’d close the door so the rest of us won’t have to listen to the caterwauling you call music.”
I had no plans of playing the gramophone and dancing, actually. Giving Lord Geoffrey that kind of proximity to me was the last thing I wanted. I had just desired to get away from the table and from the Marsden family, not to mention Uncle Harold. If the evening was warm, we might go out on the terrasse for a cigarette. But there was no need to say any of that, so I just nodded pleasantly. “Of course, Aunt Roz.”
“Off you go, then.” She waved a hand at us. Christopher offered Constance his arm. To my consternation, Lord Geoffrey hadn’t sat back down at table, and now he offered me his.
“Miss Darling.”
I forced a smile. “Thank you, Lord Geoffrey.”
He leered down. “The pleasure is mine.”
It certainly wasn’t mine. If it had been up to me, I would have told him that I didn’t need his help to walk out of the dining room and across the foyer. But he and his family were honored guests, and Aunt Roz would never forgive me if I caused a scene. The way I had addressed Her Grace the Duchess had been bad enough.
So I rested my fingertips—the very smallest part of me I could manage—on Geoffrey’s arm, and let him escort me from the room. Behind me, I could hear the Countess tell her daughter, “Why don’t you and Lord St George join the other young people, darling. It can’t be any fun for you to sit here with us old relics.”
Aunt Roz and Uncle Herbert are certainly not relics. They’re vibrant, engaging, smart people that it’s fun to spend time with. I snorted.
“Gesundtheit,” Geoffrey said.
I blinked. German? Really?
“Move along, Darling,” St George’s voice told me, before he gave me a nudge in the back to get me going again. “You’re holding up the queue.”
“Sorry, St George.” I kicked back into motion. “There was no need for you to join us, you know. I didn’t intend our departure to take you away from your supper.”
“Believe me, Darling, I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been told to run along and play.”
Yes, that had been the long and short of Lady Marsden’s remark, hadn’t it? Move along, children, and let the grownups talk business.
I wondered what the topic of conversation was going to be after we left the dining room. How to prevail upon Crispin to propose to Lady Laetitia, or how to determine who was responsible for the baby currently asleep in my aunt and uncle’s room upstairs?
Or perhaps the whereabouts of the eldest son of the house, or the rudeness of the poor relation, who clearly didn’t know her place?
I snorted again. And right on cue?—
“Gesundtheit,” Geoffrey said.
Christopher turned to look at me over his shoulder. “Are you developing a cold, Pippa?”
“No, Christopher,” I said. “I’m incredulous.”
“Ah.” His lips twitched, and for a second, I saw him glance over my shoulder to, presumably, share an amused glance with his cousin. Then he added, “Where to?”
“Where would you like to go?”
“This was your idea, wasn’t it? If you hadn’t asked Mum to excuse you, we’d all still be sitting in the dining room.”
