Page 122 of One More Christmas at the Castle
The triangular smile appeared, as she spread a snowy napkin across her lap.
‘Really, Sabine, as I said before, Lucy and I are theonlyfamily members you have left,’ Nigel pointed out.
‘Yes, descended from my father’s side, the Mordues,’ she agreed.
Xan had opened the wine and now began pouring it, but he paused at her next words, looking startled.
‘Though, of course, dear Xan is related to my mother’s family, the Archbolds, by way of his grandmother Rose.’
‘That is such averyremote link, I don’t really think it counts,’ Xan said.
Nigel stared at him. ‘I do remember hearing you say something about it, but I believe the link,ifthere really is one, is so far back as to mean nothing.’
‘I wouldn’t saythat, precisely,’ Sabine said.
I suddenly realized I was so interested in what they were saying, that I was still standing there, holding a hot dish.
I put it down hastily and headed for the door, as Olive Melling said plaintively, ‘Of course,wearen’t relatives of yours except through marriage, Sabine. As Asa’s closest connections, I admit I was disappointed he didn’t leave us some small memento, or remembered Dominic, who is the only representative of the next generation.’
‘Don’t drag me into it,’ Dom said. ‘I didn’t expect anything!’
I closed the door, though not without a last glimpse of my employer’s face; she seemed to be deriving some slightly malicious enjoyment from the conversation.
‘This family seems almost as dysfunctional as yours,’ commented Henry a few minutes later, joining me in the kitchen.
‘Mine isn’t so much dysfunctional, as very loosely connected,’ I said.
‘I think that might be the same thing.’
Plum had come in with him and was now polishing his empty dinner bowl, in case he’d missed a bit earlier, then gave up and came to give me a beseeching look from his dark eyes.
I weakened and gave him one of his little bone-shaped biscuits.
‘I think I’ve got a handle on the situation now,’ Henry said. ‘Nigel, as Mrs Powys’s father’s cousin, considered himself her heir – along with Lucy, of course. Mrs Melling is only related to Asa and was obviously deeply miffed not to get anything when he died. I don’t think there was a will, so it all went to Mrs Powys.’
‘Yes, I’d gathered all that,’ I agreed.
‘After you’d gone out, Mrs Powys seemed to be hinting that she hasn’t yet made her mind up who she intends leaving the Castle to – and it seems the Mellings aren’t entirely left out of the reckoning.’
‘She could be using them to wind Nigel up because he was taking it for granted that he was the heir and it annoyed her?’ I suggested. ‘And what about when she suddenly dragged in some very distant-sounding family connection with Xan?’
‘I suspect that was just another red herring, like the Mellings.’ Henry grinned. ‘I get the feeling Mrs Powys is simply stirring them all up for fun, and in the end, she’ll leave the Castle to the National Trust!’
‘You may well be quite right,’ I agreed.
The underlying tensions didn’t seem to have affected anyone’s appetite, but then, I always think that excellent food has a mellowing effect on people.
When Henry took in my beautiful sherry trifle and I followed with the jug of cream, Xan was refilling the wine glasses again, so that probably helped to account for the more relaxed atmosphere in the room, too.
Lucy was holding forth on the delights of tomorrow’s Christmas fair in the village which, as well as the appearance ofher brother as Father Christmas, would feature all kinds of handicraft stalls, raffles, bran tubs and such traditional games as Pin the Tail on the Donkey.
I’m not sure how interested her audience were, but at least it was an innocuous subject.
But Henry told me later that when I’d gone out of the room, Mrs Powys had suddenly decreed thateveryoneshould go to the Christmas fair next morning, which was tantamount to a command.
‘Us too, so long as we’re back in time to prepare lunch. Then the last two guests arrive after that.’
‘But is Mrs Powys going to the fair, too? I wouldn’t really have thought it was her kind of thing.’
