Heirs of the Body(80)
“Is Mrs. Samuel still upstairs?”
“Yes, madam.”
“I’ll take Mr. Samuel up. Tell her ladyship he’s arrived, please.”
“Lord Dalrymple’s not back yet?” Alec asked. “I’d better see Lady Dalrymple.”
“Her ladyship is in her sitting room, I believe, sir.”
During this exchange, Samuel glanced about the spacious hall. As he and Daisy made for the stairs, he said, “Plenty of room for a swarm of Dalrymples in here all right.” He didn’t sound overawed, just reflective. “It’ll be interesting to meet my long-lost relatives.”
“I’ll be happy to introduce you to all the portraits, too.”
He laughed. “I’m happy to postpone that pleasure. Did you grow up here?”
“Yes, my father was the last—the previous—viscount, before Cousin Edgar. My mother resides at the Dower House, but you don’t have to deal with that yet. My sister’s staying with her. She and Martha are quite friendly. Here we are.” She knocked on Martha’s door. “It’s Daisy.”
“Come in.”
Daisy stuck her head round the door. “There’s someone to see you.” She stood back and let Samuel past.
“Sammy! Oh Sammy!”
Daisy quietly closed the door behind him and went back downstairs.
As she trudged along the passage towards Geraldine’s sitting room, the door at the end opened. Edgar came in, followed by his three acolytes. All four were grubby, in stockinged feet, carrying muddy boots.
“Mummy!” cried Bel, “we found so much stuff for Uncle Edgar.” She dropped her boots and started to take off her knapsack—Edgar’s solution to the perennial problem of the lack of decent-sized pockets in girls’ clothes. “You should see—”
“Not now, darling! You three go right back out and round the house to the conservatory. Unload your collections, then upstairs and clean up. Nursery tea today.”
Derek protested, “Uncle Edgar said—”
“Out!”
Muttering apologies, the three filed back out. Edgar started to follow, saying, “Sorry! You’re quite right. Not the thing to traipse through the house like this but we left the bicycles and the dogs in the stables—”
“Not you, Edgar.” Daisy tugged his sleeve, urging him towards Geraldine’s sitting room.
He glanced down at himself. “Not like this, my dear. Geraldine won’t care for—”
“Never mind that. You’re needed.”
Bewildered, he padded after her. She knocked but didn’t wait for a response. He set down his boots neatly to one side of the door and followed her in.
Alec stood up. Geraldine looked round, blinked, and said, “Edgar, really! I could wish you hadn’t transferred your affections from the Lepidoptera to the Odonata. Hunting butterflies involved a good deal less mud.”
“My fault,” said Daisy. “And I practically dragged him in here.”
“No, no, my dear.” He patted her hand, leaving a smear of mud.
“I’m glad you’ve come, sir,” said Alec. “We have a great deal to tell you, and the sooner the better.”
Daisy sat down beside Geraldine, and Edgar made for a nearby brocade-covered seat.
“Not there, Edgar!”
Alec placed a cane-bottom chair for the beleaguered peer.
“Thank you, my dear fellow.”
“Thank you for keeping Belinda and the boys out of the way all day. It was a relief not to have to worry about what they were up to.”
“Delightful children, high-spirited but always polite and obliging. It was my pleasure.”
“Alec, please tell him what’s happened,” Geraldine said impatiently.
“Bad news, I’m afraid, sir. Raymond was involved in an accident in Worcester and has since died.”
“Died!” Edgar was horrified. “I was under the impression that the mishaps we’ve been suffering were simply coincidental accidents, or perhaps a series of practical jokes.”
“I daresay Alec’s profession makes him more suspicious than most,” Geraldine allowed. “Sir Nigel intimated as much. But Raymond’s death alters the picture.”
“I can see that, my dear.”
“Unfortunately,” said Alec, “it doesn’t make the picture any clearer. We can’t be sure whether the accident was, in fact, sheer bad luck, or if not, whether the attack had any connection with what’s been going on here, or even whether the incident caused his death.”
Edgar took off his pince-nez and blinked earnestly at Alec as he polished a few daubs of mud off the lenses. “I see your difficulty. Is Wookleigh taking the matter seriously? Willing to provide aid and assistance in such dubious circumstances?”