Page 10 of Death at the Dower House
“Isn’t it just? At any rate, she’s Lady Peckham’s ward, or companion, or special project, from the Continent.”
“Like you areourspecial project from the Continent,” Francis said and squeezed my hand.
“Exactly like that. Except your mother doesn’t seem to care whether I snag a husband with a title or not.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Mum has her own thoughts on that score.”
“Must be nice,” Constance muttered.
Itwasnice, actually. However— “Surely Aunt Roz doesn’t think I’m going to marry Christopher, does she?”
“Of course not,” Francis said. “Our mother knows both of you better than that.”
Good to know. “So back to the girl. Her name is Johanna, and she’s Flemish or Belgian or something like that. Dutch, maybe. Tall, blond, and exceptionally beautiful. Crispin seems altogether smitten. And while she seems focused on him right now, if something goes wrong there, she could come after you. We both know Christopher isn’t in the market for a wife…”
Francis shook his head.
“And that means you’re the fallback. Eldest grandson of a duke—”
“Not anymore,” Francis reminded me. “Since a week ago, I’m just the eldest nephew of a duke. One with a son of his own. Crispin’s the one with the title and fortune.”
“Still. You’re the grandson of a duke—all right, the grandson of adeadduke—and if she strikes out with Crispin and Christopher isn’t interested…”
“I’ll guard my virtue carefully,” Francis promised, and guided us both through the front door into the foyer, “I guess I may assume you don’t want this chippy in the family?”
“Not if I can help it.” I extricated my hand from his arm. “She’s welcome to St George. If I never have to deal with him again, it won’t be too soon. But she can’t have any of the rest of you. Aunt Roz would absolutely hate every inch of her.”
“Then I’ll be careful,” Francis said, and removed Constance’s hand from his arm with a lot more care than he’d shown mine. “I should go get situated in my room. I assume we’re changing for dinner?”
“I think you can safely assume that. I’m sure Lady Peckham and the Continental Project have a gown waiting that’s designed to take everyone’s breath away.”
Constance nodded confirmation.
“Then we’ll just have to uphold the family honor the best we can,” Francis said, and smacked his heels together in a way I didn’t think I’d seen him do since he was in uniform. “Miss Peckham. A pleasure.”
Constance dropped a sort of abbreviated curtsey.
“Pipsqueak.” He nodded to me.
“We’ll see you downstairs at eight o’clock,” I said, and then we watched as he headed up the stairs and into the east wing. When he had vanished, I turned to Constance, who was still looking at the spot where he had turned the corner. “So that’s Francis.”
She nodded, without looking at me.
“He was on his best behavior, I admit, but you can see why he’s preferable to St George in practically every particular.”
Constance hummed agreement.
“What do you want to do now?” I asked, and she finally took her attention off the stairs to attend to our conversation.
“I suppose I should go upstairs and see if Mother needs any help getting ready for dinner. She didn’t bring her lady’s maid with us…”
“If Hughes is still around,” I said, “Aunt Charlotte’s maid, you know, I’m sure she’d be happy to help your mother.”
Of course, with Aunt Charlotte gone, Hughes might have left the Hall already, too. Unless she was staying until after the funeral. Or unless Uncle Harold had offered to keep her on. I had no idea what sort of job he’d be able to find for her, though. He had no need of a lady’s maid, nor did Crispin, and I doubted Hughes would be enthused about being demoted to chambermaid.
Constance looked doubtful, and I added, forcefully. “You absolutely do not owe Johanna any help. If you want to do something useful, go make yourself as beautiful as you can. She could use some competition, instead of having it all her own way.”
“I’d rather just be myself,” Constance demurred, which was a lovely sentiment as far as it went. However—
