Daisy rang and talked to Sakari, who was dying to know all about Lord Dalrymple’s search for his heir. She’d picked up hints from Belinda, of course.
“I’d better not talk about it, darling,” Daisy apologised. “One never knows when legal business might turn out to be confidential. Don’t let Bel be a nuisance or overstay her welcome.”
“Belinda is never a nuisance, Daisy. But the zoological gardens are utterly exhausting! I confess, after half an hour I retired to the tearoom with a book and let the girls escort themselves.”
“I don’t blame you,” Daisy said, laughing. “Though I’m looking forward to taking the twins when they’re a little older.”
* * *
That evening, for once, Alec escaped from the Yard on time. He had spent a boring day on paperwork and meetings, with no interesting new cases on the horizon. Looking forward to spending some time with his children, he was disappointed to find Belinda away from home for the night.
A visit to the nursery and a romp with the twins cheered him up a bit. Having changed out of his suit, he played horsie and they took turns riding on his back.
Mrs. Gilpin was scandalised. “Fathers ought to command awe,” she told him, not for the first time. “How can they respect you, sir, when you let them—”
“They’re only babies. Down you get, Manda. Your turn, Oliver.”
At dinner, over Lancashire hotpot and broad beans, Daisy reported the second part of Cousin Geraldine’s letter. “Edgar wants the whole family to turn out to celebrate his birthday and to meet the three heirs—or rather, I presume, as many as haven’t been debunked by then.”
“Sounds like a jolly party,” Alec grunted. “More Geraldine’s idea than Edgar’s, I’ll be bound.”
“Oh yes, she loves playing Lady Bountiful, whereas August must be a prime season for moths and butterflies, don’t you think? Edgar will want to be out in the fields with his nets and jars.”
“If that’s where he wants to be, that’s where he’ll be, after gently agreeing with his wife that his place is with his guests. So this grand gathering is to be at Fairacres in August?”
“Yes, the first week. From the thirtieth of July, actually. His birthday is the sixth of August, but the first is August bank holiday and the village fête. There’s plenty of time for you to arrange to take a few days off.”
“Me! I’m not family, and I don’t want anything to do with games of ‘debunk the heirs.’”
“Darling, of course you’re family. Geraldine specifically says you’re expected, and the children, too. Johnny and Vi will be taking all three of theirs.”
“You mean they’ve already accepted? They were invited before us?” Alec pretended outrage.
“Idiot! As though you cared. No, Geraldine just says she’s inviting them. But Violet’s bound to accept. She’ll see it as a family obligation. And I have to agree, actually.”
“Your family. No, sorry! I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“I should hope not,” Daisy said severely. “Edgar may be obsessed with lepidoptera but he’s a sweetie, and I wouldn’t dream of spoiling his birthday by refusing, even if the celebration is really Geraldine’s idea.”
“You’re right. You know I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try to get a few days off for it.” With any luck, he’d be unsuccessful, he thought. He’d much prefer to go to the New Forest with Daisy and the children.
“They owe you a holiday. You’re so often late for dinner that Mrs. Dobson never makes anything that can’t be eaten cold, unless it wouldn’t suffer from being kept hot or reheated! Not to mention last summer: We were supposed to have a week on the Isle of Wight and they called you back after three days.”
“It was an emergency.”
“It always is. Anyone would think you were the only detective chief inspector in the CID. Not that I’m not proud of you for being indispensable, but there ought to be a limit. I don’t suppose Mr. Crane would be impressed by Edgar’s title?”
“I’ve no intention of using it to impress him. On the other hand,” Alec went on thoughtfully, “if I told him my mother-in-law insists on my presence and I’m terrified of her…”
Daisy laughed. “What bilge, darling!”
“Not at all. Your mother can be very intimidating. Besides, can you think of any words more likely to strike fear into the average male breast than ‘mother-in-law’ and ‘dowager’? The Super would credit it.”