Page 68 of Death at the Dower House
“I don’t think she’d try to frame me in the first place,” Crispin said.
“I wouldn’t be too sure. A woman scorned and all that. Just don’t propose to her. Unless you do want to marry her, of course. But just in case she’s a murderess, don’t go and get yourself engaged to her right now. Aunt Roz told me specifically to make sure you didn’t get yourself compromised while you were here.”
“Did she really?” Christopher asked with a fond smile.
I nodded. “She really did. And made me promise. So don’t make me out to be a liar, St George.”
“If I had wanted to get myself engaged to Laetitia,” Crispin said, “I’d have done it in January. It’s been months since I’ve seen her other than in passing.”
“Why on earth would she care that you’d let yourself be vamped by Johanna, then?”
“Pure acquisitiveness,” Crispin said. “She’d had her fun and moved on, but she didn’t want me to. Especially not to someone who looked like Johanna.”
So that was it. “You were a toy she had finished playing with, but woe to anyone else who picked you up and wanted to play with you?”
He shrugged, a bit pink about the cheekbones. “Something like that.”
“You’re the one who put it like that, St George.” And a sad state of affairs it was, too. “If that’s the case, we may be out of luck. With Johanna gone, perhaps you’ll fall back into obscurity again.”
“That’s easily fixed, Pippa,” Christopher said, smirking. “Just pretend you’re a bit goofy about Crispin, and he’ll be all the rage.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Christopher,” I said, “nobody would believe—”
Meanwhile, Crispin snapped, “Not on your life, Kit!”
“There’s no reason to take that tone,” I told him. “I realize nobody sane could possibly believe it, but—”
“For pity’s sake, Darling, that isn’t why—”
“Stop it,” Christopher said, “both of you. Crispin—”
“If Laetitia killed Johanna,” Crispin said, “what’s to keep her from coming after Philippa next?”
“You, I suppose,” I told him. “You’ll simply have to keep her away from me, now that we know about the danger.”
He gave me a look, which I ignored in favor of turning to Christopher with a more salient point. “That doesn’t mitigate the fact that nobody would believe it. Everyone knows we despise each other.”
“I don’t despise you, Darling,” Crispin said. “There’s a degree of animosity there, certainly—”
“Oh, excuse me. Everyone knows there’s a degree of animosity between us, then—”
“Stop it,” Christopher said again. “Your degree of animosity looks a lot like something else sometimes, so I daresay plenty of people would believe it.”
“Ridiculous,” I grumbled, while Crispin nodded.
“I’ll do my best, of course, Kit, but I can tell you right now that—”
“Don’t do me any favors, St George,” I told him. “Besides,I’mthe one who’s supposed to look like I’ve lost my mind overyou, not the other way around.”
“Actually…” Christopher said, and didn’t get any further, because Crispin bared his teeth.
“I don’t know that it matters howyoufeel aboutme, Darling. What matters is whetherIpayyouattention. And for that—”
“That’s not what matters, you nitwit. Johanna—”
“Stop!” Christopher said. “Pippa, what are you wearing for supper?”
I blinked at the sudden change of topic. “I suppose I ought to wear black, really…”
