“Mummy, Uncle Edgar wants to go and look at the butterflies right now because Ben’s been telling him about the giant butterflies in Trinidad, so may I go and fetch the twins and then afterwards is it all right if Ben and I go to the Dower House to see Derek? Ben hasn’t met him yet. I wish Derek was staying here. Do you think Aunt Violet would let him? We—”
“Slow down! You may do all that provided you get permission from Aunt Geraldine to leave the room and to invite Derek; and from Nurse Gilpin to take the twins; and from Grandmama Dalrymple as well as Aunt Violet to ask Derek to move up here. I take it you’ve already consulted Benjamin, not dragged him along in your wake?”
“Oh yes, ma’am. If I may go with Miss Belinda, Uncle Frank?”
Crowley gave his permission.
“Bel, let me know when you’re going to the Dower House. I’ll go with you. I want to see your Aunt Violet. And I must say hello to Mother.” She hoped Belinda hadn’t noticed her priorities.
From what little she’d seen of him, Benjamin’s manner and manners appeared to be excellent, perhaps due to the influence of the male equivalent of Bishop Whatsit’s High School. All the same, if he was Edgar’s heir, a black viscount would be a real turnup for the books!
Crowley watched Bel and Ben cross the room to Geraldine, who was now engaged in laborious conversation with Mrs. Vincent Dalrymple. Daisy thought Crowley looked part speculative, part calculating, and part satisfied. She wasn’t sure how much of his story she believed. Was he a plausible rogue, or a man in a difficult position trying to do his best for his wards? Or a bit of both? Though his relationship with Benjamin seemed to be good, at best his motives were decidedly mixed.
She couldn’t make up her mind whether she liked him or not, far less whether she’d trust him an inch further than she could see him.
THIRTEEN
The Vincent Dalrymples decided it behooved them to make their bows to the dowager viscountess and so proposed to join the walk to the Dower House. Daisy didn’t particularly want their company, but their presence might deflect attention from herself, always a good thing. What her mother’s reaction to Ben’s dark face might be she resolutely put out of her mind.
“Should I come along?” Alec asked her, when she told him of the expedition. “I ought to make my bow to your mother, too.”
“Do, darling. You know how it is. She has to complain about something, and given a choice of your negligence or too many people invading her tiny house, I’d prefer the latter. Especially as the house is quite big enough to absorb all of us. Besides, she does have some respect for you. Perhaps you can prevent her being rude to the Vincents and poor Ben.”
“Don’t count on it, love.”
“All right, then, you can protect me from the Vincents en route. I can’t go on calling them that. We’re going to have to come to an agreement on christian names all round. After all, we’re all family.”
“Your family,” Alec reminded her.
“Don’t rub it in!”
“Martha’s not coming?”
“It’s a bit far for her to walk, with the hill to climb, and she’s tired from the journey. She’s going to lie down till dinnertime.”
“And Raymond?”
“He’s already met Mother, remember, and got rather the worst of that encounter. I expect the longer he can put off seeing her again, the happier he’ll be. It’s different with Edgar, who completely routed him. He can’t very well avoid his host, and refusing the invitation would have looked like turning tail. Did you talk to him at all?”
“Yes. Very full of himself, as you said, and disparaging about the viscountcy. I’d argue that his presence suggests he’s less indifferent than he wants to appear. He was disparaging about my supposed profession, too, when I told him I’m a civil servant. Too much red tape in this country. They won’t stand for it in South Africa.”
“You’ve been known to complain about red tape.”
Alec grinned. “True. And I have no desire to be a lord.”
“You should be best chums. I like Vincent better than Raymond, but his wife is a bit hard to take.”
However, Mrs. Vincent Dalrymple seemed to have worked out, or had pointed out to her, Daisy’s position in the family. Not that Daisy had a high opinion of her own importance, but she did dislike being condescended to. On the other hand, she was no keener on fulsome flattery. As they walked across the park, Laurette—she’d instantly agreed to first names—gushed about how wonderful it was, and the house as well, and how envious she was of Daisy for growing up there.