Heirs of the Body(45)

Laurette pursed her lips. “Alors, if Lord Dalrymple…”

Geraldine said kindly to Derek, “Not in company, dear.”

Lowecroft chose that moment to escort Ernest and a parlourmaid with tea trays out to the terrace. As teapot, cups and saucers, plates, and cake stands were transferred to a table, Derek forgot his momentary pique.

“Golly, what a smashing spread!” Cucumber sandwiches, watercress sandwiches, bread and butter, five different biscuits, and four kinds of cake.

His grandmother, the dowager, fell short in catering to the appetite of a growing boy, a mistake Geraldine was unlikely to make.

“Is Mr … Is Vincent joining us?” Geraldine asked Laurette.

“He said he intended to be back for tea.” Laurette looked at her watch. “He went for a short walk an hour or so ago.”

“I expect he’ll be along any minute.” She started pouring tea.

The children—Ben taking his cue from Derek and Belinda—handed round cups and plates and then took their own milky tea and heaped plates and sat on the wide, shallow terrace steps. Nana joined them.

Martha watched them wistfully. “They’re very good kids,” she said to Daisy. “I hope Millie and Rosie will be as well-behaved at that age.”

“Well behaved in company,” Daisy agreed, “and Ben seems well schooled. I hope the other two don’t lead him into mischief. Derek is very inventive when it comes to finding things to do that haven’t been absolutely forbidden because no one imagined the possibility.”

“Oh, I know! My sister’s children are just the same.”

“You have just the one sister? The one your girls are staying with?”

“She’s the only one.”

“Any brothers?”

“I had a brother. He was killed in the earthquake.”

“Earthquake?”

“In 1907. The school fell down and ninety children were killed. My other sister, and Sam’s brothers, as well.”

“I’m so sorry,” Daisy said inadequately.

“It’s a long time ago, but I still have nightmares sometimes. There was a big fire after the quake and most of Kingston was destroyed. Sometimes when I smell smoke in the evening, I dream about it. Otherwise, I don’t think about it much.”

Ernest brought out a fresh pot of tea and jug of hot water, and removed the old ones.

“More tea, Martha?” Geraldine offered, in a bright voice that suggested she had overheard and wanted to distract Martha from sad memories—or perhaps hoped merely for a momentary relief from Raymond’s interrogation.

Daisy had been distantly aware of his nosy questions about the Fairacres farms, and Geraldine’s polite, adroit answers lacking any specifics. Laurette, on her other side, seemed to be distracted. She kept glancing at her wristwatch. Alec was talking to Crowley.

Ben had heard Geraldine. He popped up from his seat on the steps and came to fetch Martha’s teacup, taking Daisy’s for a refill, too. As Geraldine poured, Edgar came onto the terrace, looking reasonably presentable though somewhat less thoroughly scrubbed than his young acolytes. Pepper, as usual, was at his heels.

“An excellent collecting day,” he announced. “I haven’t yet identified the nymphs.…”

“Nymphs!” Laurette exclaimed, staring at him as if he was even pottier than she already suspected.

Edgar’s eyes twinkled. “My dear lady, not the kind commonly depicted as being chased by fauns or satyrs. These are the larvae of damsel- and dragon—”

“Damsel! Dragon!” Her eyes popped.

“Oh dear,” sighed Geraldine. “Laurette, you haven’t stepped into a mediaeval romance. Edgar’s talking about insects.”

“Unlike the Lepidoptera,” Edgar informed them, “the Anisoptera and Zygoptera do not pupate.”

“No chrysalis,” said Ben.

“That’s right, my boy.” Edgar beamed.

“How can you talk about insects,” Laurette cried, “when Vincent is missing?” She jumped up and hurried over to the low parapet to scan the gardens.

“Vincent missing? Bless my soul!”

“I’d hardly go so far,” said Geraldine dryly, handing Edgar a cup of tea. “Apparently he went for a stroll. I expect he walked farther than he intended. I see no cause for alarm.”

Edgar picked up the plate he had absentmindedly loaded with tidbits. “I’ll go and talk to her.”

He crossed the terrace. Daisy couldn’t hear what he said to Laurette, but she shook her head, checked the time again, and went back to staring out over the gardens. Edgar sat on the wall. Setting down his cup and his plate on either side of him, he proceeded to enjoy his tea. Pepper sat facing him, his hopeful gaze on the plate.