Page 100 of Death at the Dower House
He tossed his napkin on the table next to his half-eaten breakfast and pushed his chair back.
“I’m going up to sit with Kit.”
He stalked out of the dining room practically radiating anger. Francis sniggered. “Well done, Pipsqueak. It’s quite a gift you have, the way you manage to send him to the brink of madness in every conversation.”
“He has a quick temper,” I said. “It isn’t hard to do.”
“You seem to manage it with more ease than anyone else, however.” He tilted his head to contemplate me. “Have you ever considered—”
“No,” I said, because I hadn’t, and furthermore, I didn’t want to. When someone asks me to consider something about St George, it’s invariably something I wish I hadn’t considered.
And in this case I didn’t have to, because Dawson whisked away Crispin’s plate, and then Tom dropped down on the empty chair beside me and put his own plate on the table where Crispin’s had been.
“Any news on Kit?” he wanted to know as he shook his napkin open and spread it over his lap.
“No change this morning. Or at least that’s what Francis and Crispin told me when I came down to breakfast. I haven’t seen him yet myself.”
“You’re free to go home,” Tom said. “Or back to Sutherland Hall, I suppose. Or Beckwith Place. Wherever Lord and Lady Herbert are right now, and wherever you can get to, without the railway.”
I winced. “I haven’t informed them what happened. Have you, Francis?”
Francis shook his head. “No need to worry the old folks unduly, I figured. If Mum knew what was going on here, and that both of you came close to dying, she’d only fret, and there is nothing she can do about any of it. Although by now I daresay she might want the chance to fuss over Kit.”
“We could load him into the backseat of one of the motorcars,” I suggested. “I could sit back there with him and make sure he didn’t rattle around too much.”
Francis nodded. “If we start packing now, we can be back at Sutherland by this afternoon. Mum and Dad will still be there. I took their car, after all.”
So he had. They were stuck until he fetched them, or unless they talked Uncle Harold into lending them Wilkins and the late duke’s Crossley.
“Shall we do it?” I looked at Francis. Francis looked at Constance.
“Oh,” she said faintly.
“You don’t want to stay here, surely? Not by yourself?”
She shook her head.
“Then come to Sutherland Hall and meet my parents,” Francis said. “And we’ll figure the next step out from there.”
Constance nodded, with two perfect tears running down her cheeks. I glanced at Tom, who tipped me a wink before he devoted himself to his steak and eggs.
Epilogue
Where we had leftSutherland Hall with seven people and two vehicles, there were now only five of us. We could have fit into a single motorcar, but of course there was no question of leaving Aunt Roz’s and Uncle Herbert’s Bentley behind at the Dower House, nor was there any chance at all that Crispin would agree to not drive his beloved Hispano-Suiza back home. The only question was how to divide the passengers and luggage between the two vehicles.
“You’re an absolute menace on the road,” I told Crispin. “I drove down here with you, don’t forget, and besides, I know what you did to your Ballot last year.”
“What did you do to the Ballot?” Francis wanted to know. “That was a beautiful motorcar. What happened to it?”
I had my mouth open to tell him that Crispin, under the influence of rather a lot of alcohol, had managed to wrap it around a light pole somewhere in the West End, and destroy it. But before I could, Crispin scowled.
“I was drunk then. I am not drunk now. And if I’m carrying Kit, I’ll go as carefully as if I had a load of explosives in the back.”
A moment later he added, pensively, “With you back there, it comes to the same thing, really, doesn’t it? You’ll scream loud enough to make my ears bleed if anything happens to him.”
“What did he do to the Ballot?” Francis asked again, of me this time.
“He crashed it into a light pole. Damaged it beyond repair. Walked away laughing. Somehow managed to stay out of jail, as well as out of the hospital.”
