Page 5 of Lies in Little Sutherland
I turned hopeful eyes on Cook, who informed me that she would be happy to provide us with sustenance for the road, and on that note we withdrew to let the staff get on with it.
“Not much help there,” Christopher commented as he and I headed up the central staircase towards the first floor together, while Constance went back to the drawing room and to Francis.
I shook my head.“We’ll figure it out.There can’t be that many people who live around Lower Slaughter.And what a name, hm?
Christopher didn’t answer beyond a commiserating grimace, and I added, “Can you believe that your mother sent us to bed like misbehaving children?”
“I can, actually.”He slanted me a look.“You cannot flirt openly with Crispin in front of his fiancée and—more importantly—in front of his future mother-in-law, Pippa.”
The unfairness of this quite took my breath away.“That wasn’t flirtation, Christopher.He implied that I was enceinte, didn’t you hear?”
“He wishes you were enceinte,” Christopher muttered darkly, and raised his voice.“Yes, Pippa, I heard.And he oughtn’t to have said that.But you can’t allow yourself to get riled up that way.Not in front of the Countess of Marsden.Not to mention my mother.”
I supposed not.It was just very difficult to resist the bait.“You don’t think it was a comment on my figure, do you?Does this frock make me look fat?”
I had bought it recently, to replace a salmon-colored evening frock that I had purchased back in August, in which I had now discovered two separate, foully murdered bodies on two different occasions, not to mention been kidnapped myself.The salmon frock was gone, wrapped in paper and tossed in the rubbish bin, and I had replaced it with a two-tone dark green velvet frock with gold and bronze embroidery along the hem and decolletage.The heavier fabric was suitable for autumn and winter, and with Christmas coming up, the green was a good seasonal choice.And in addition to that, it matched my eyes.
The velvet was stiffer than the usual silk chiffon or crepe of most of my evening gowns, however, and it didn’t drape as easily.Hence my concern that I looked less svelte than usual.
Christopher looked at me with scorn.“No, Pippa.The frock does not make you look fat, nor would Crispin be so foolish as to comment on it if it did.Not only would Laetitia slap him for noticing anyone’s figure but hers?—”
I snorted.She’d have to blind him in both eyes to avoid that.
“—but you wouldn’t let him get away with disparaging yours, either.”
“I’m getting better at recognizing the misdirection,” I said.“For instance, there was a time when I would have taken—” I cleared my throat and affected Crispin’s languid drawl, “—my, my, Darling, don’t you look tart and crisp and good enough to eat?as an insult?—”
Christopher smothered a laugh, not entirely successfully.“That’s what he told you at the Dower House in May, wasn’t it?About the apple green frock?”
I nodded.“And last month, he told me to wear it because it brings out my eyes.He really is quite adept at saying exactly what he means while making it sound like he means the opposite.”
“I think that’s just you, Pippa,” Christopher said apologetically.“The rest of us knew exactly what he meant.”
Perhaps that was true.Everyone else had known about his feelings for me long before I did, at any rate.
“Be that as it may,” I said as we reached the top of the staircase and turned left, so Christopher could walk me to my room.
I was back at the far end of the west wing, while he—and Francis and Crispin—were at the far end of the east ditto.Aunt Charlotte had instituted that rule while she was alive.I had always assumed it was meant to keep Christopher and myself apart, as if we weren’t cohabiting quite happily together in London, but Christopher had set me straight on that issue, as on so many others, last month, when he’d told me that the real purpose had been to keep me away from Crispin, and vice versa.
It was the room I always occupied when I visited Sutherland Hall, though, and staying elsewhere would have been strange.So I had Constance in the room next to me, and Lady Laetitia across the hall—it must have been Mrs.Mason, or perhaps Crispin himself, who had made the decision to put her as far away from his rooms as she could get—while the Earl and Countess of Marsden had moved into Uncle Harold’s and Aunt Charlotte’s old chambers.The duke was in the Duke’s Chamber, of course, while the Duchess’s chamber stood empty, just as it had done when Duke Henry was alive.It seemed to be the fate of the dukes of Sutherland to outlive their wives.Perhaps, if Crispin was lucky, Laetitia would predecease him by decades, too.
“That’s a horrible thing to wish for,” Christopher said as we turned the corner by Aunt Roz and Uncle Herbert’s room and headed down into the west wing.
I peered at him.“Did I say that aloud?I’m sorry.”
He shrugged.“It’s difficult to blame you, really.It’s a pity you don’t feel the same way he does, or you could throw yourself at him and convince him to toss her aside so the two of you could run off and live happily ever after.”
I shook my head.“He wouldn’t do it.Even if I did manage to convince him that I’d be happy in a garret on the Continent, he wouldn’t leave Uncle Harold in the lurch.”
“It’s hardly in the lurch,” Christopher protested.“Father would become Duke of Sutherland after Uncle Harold, if Crispin were disinherited, and Francis would become duke after Father, and in a pinch, if something happened to Francis, I might become duke… but it’s not as if there aren’t plenty of us to choose from even without Crispin.”
“You better not let him hear you say that, or you might give him a complex.”I continued, “Besides, I wouldn’t put it past His Grace to marry again and make another heir, should he lose his firstborn.Perhaps Laetitia might oblige.She’d lose Crispin, but she’d become Duchess immediately, and the prestige and fortune might be worth it.”
Christopher made a face.“That’s an unpleasant picture.”
Yes, it was.However— “It’s not as if it hasn’t happened before.Remember Johanna de Vos?She spread her attention fairly evenly between Crispin and his father for the couple of days that the Peckhams were here for Aunt Charlotte’s funeral.It wasn’t her fault that His Grace had been a widower for less than two weeks and wasn’t ready to consider another wife so soon.”
“I think Lady Peckham was the one who had hopes in that direction,” Christopher said fairly, “although that wasn’t a pleasant picture, either.”
