Page 54 of Death at the Dower House
“What happened with Johanna?” Christopher wanted to know. “If it normally doesn’t descend—or ascend—to that level?”
Crispin glanced at him. “She wanted to get married, what else?”
“And you don’t?”
“I didn’t want to marryher,” Crispin said. “I’d get married if my father would let me marry who I want to marry. Since he won’t, no, I don’t want to get married.”
“I thought you seemed rather taken with Johanna,” I told him, swinging my feet. “You certainly thought she was beautiful.”
“Anyone would think she was beautiful,” Crispin said. “The world is full of beautiful women. That doesn’t mean I want to marry them. Not when I knew she would have professed the same feelings to any man with a title and fortune.”
“She didn’t mean it?”
He snorted. “Of course she didn’t mean it, Darling. It had been two and a half days. Nobody falls in love in two and a half days.”
“Francis seemed to,” I said.
He shook his head. “Francis is delighted that someone prefers him to me. Constance is delighted that someone noticed her instead of Johanna. They’re not in love. Not yet, anyway.”
“That’s appallingly cynical,” I told him, while Christopher choked on a laugh. “You should be happy for your cousin. And also, could you possibly be any more conceited?Iprefer Francis to you, for your information.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m well aware of it, Darling. The only people who prefer me are the ones who want the Sutherland title and fortune.”
There was a moment of silence after that rather bald statement. I didn’t know quite what to say, because I had told him that, or something similar, rather a lot of times over the years. I did hate to hear the words thrown back at me, though. It was one thing for me to say it, particularly in the midst of a quarrel, but quite another for him to repeat it, especially when it sounded as if he actually believed it. Up until this moment, I hadn’t realized he did.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said.
He smirked. “Guilty conscience, Darling?”
It was frankly appalling how well he could read me. “Not at all,” I said robustly. “We both know you have other things to recommend you than the family title and the family money. Besides, aren’t you waiting for this girl your father won’t let you have. Or…?”
“No, Darling. It wasn’t Johanna. She wouldn’t have been any more acceptable to Father than—”
He caught himself just in time, and bit back what I assumed would have been the girl’s name. I arched my brows in invitation, but he didn’t continue.
“And it isn’t Laetitia, either,” he added after a few seconds. “Father would have been delighted to hand me over to her, I’m sure. She has a title and a fortune of her own, and if it isn’t quite up to the Sutherland standard, it’s nothing to sneeze at.”
“Well,” I told him, “after this weekend, I think the Marsdens might think twice before they approve of giving Lady Laetitia to you.”
“I’d say so,” Christopher agreed. “When you brought up that girl with the baby earlier—always the girl with the baby, Pippa!—Peckham looked ready to vomit, and Marsden wasn’t much better.”
“Serves him right,” I said. “If he hasn’t got some woman with child himself already, it hasn’t been for lack of trying. Him and his wandering hands.”
I turned back to Crispin. “At any rate, St George, you’re well out of it. Lady Laetitia is a cow, and you’d spend your life cleaning up her brother’s indiscretions, insofar as they could be cleaned up. And as far as Johanna goes…”
He looked resigned. “What about her?”
“She came into the garden to tell you that she loved you. She softened you up by kissing you, and then she angled for a marriage proposal. I assume, when you didn’t offer one, she brought up the possibility of marriage herself?”
He nodded. “It got ugly for a minute or two. She cried, and then she begged,” he winced, “and when that didn’t work, she started to threaten.”
“Threaten what?”
“To lie,” Crispin said, “and say that I had ruined her so I’d be forced to marry her.”
“Ruined her? She’d say you’d taken her to bed, do you mean? Had you?”
They both stared at me. “Pippa!” Christopher exclaimed, shocked that I’d asked, while Crispin merely looked appalled, whether about the question or the idea.
