Flossie hesitated. She looked at him, and then at me, and for once, there were absolutely no teeth in evidence.
“Or if you’d prefer,” Christopher added, since it seemed very much like Flossie would like a different, perhaps more direct, solution, “you can drop a note at Sutherland House. It’s in Mayfair. The staff will make sure it gets to him.”
There would be plenty of sympathy notes dropped off at Sutherland House over the next few days, I imagined, once the news about the late duke and about Lady Charlotte got out.
By that point, the lift had reached the second floor and jolted to a stop, and I pulled back the grille and reached for my bag. “You go on ahead, Florence. We have the bags to manage. It was lovely to see you.”
Flossie nodded. “You too, Pippa.”
She sounded about as sincere as I did, I imagine.
“Come on, Christopher,” I said, as I watched her flounce down the hallway with her panels fluttering. Christopher, of course, didn’t move from his corner until she was gone, with the door shut behind her, when I told him, “It’s safe. You can come out now. She’s inside her flat.”
Christopher extricated himself from the lift with a shudder. “Horrid.”
“She’s not so bad,” I said, although I’ll admit I felt a little less friendly towards Flossie today than I had on Friday, too.
“You’re not the one in her sights.” Christopher shivered exaggeratedly as we made our way towards the door to our own flat.
“It doesn’t appear as if you’re at the top of her list anymore, either,” I pointed out. “It seems she has dropped you for your cousin.”
“Better him than me,” Christopher said, and pushed open the flat door and bowed me in. “Here we are. Home, sweet home. Finally.”
“Indeed.” I headed for my bedroom door, swinging the weekender bag as I went. “See you in the sitting room in thirty?”
“Make it forty-five,” Christopher said. “I have a note to write.”
I nodded. “I might put down a few words, myself.”
“Taking a leaf out of my mother’s book and submitting a piece of gossip to the tabloids?” He grinned.
I grinned back. “I’ll leave that little sideline to Aunt Roz. But it seems only fair to warn St George that Flossie Schlomsky has her eye on him, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, it does, indeed. You’re trying to ensure that he never comes back to the Essex House Mansions again, I assume?”
“You know me so well,” I said, and shut the door to my room.
* * *
Letter from Miss Philippa Darling,the Essex House Mansions, London, to the Right Honorable Viscount St George, Sutherland Hall, Little Sutherland, Wiltshire:
April 27th
Dear LordSt George,
First, let me tell you again how very sorry I am for the loss of your mother. As you know, I lost my own a few years ago,under much different circumstances, of course, butand I can empathize with what you’re going through.
Please accept our very heartfelt condolences, from both Christopher and myself.
Secondly, you probably noticed our rather precipitate departure from the Hall this afternoon. Under the circumstances, we thought it best to let you and your father get on with themurder investigation andarrangements without unwanted houseguests underfoot.
And also, with no offense towards your ancestral home, it was an awful weekend and I couldn’t wait to get away.
Finally, I feel I ought to warn you that Flossie Schlomsky seems to be on the hunt, and you seem to be the intended quarry. She cornered us upon coming home, and winkled your direction out of Christopher, who has never been very successful in withstanding pressure from determined females. It might be best if you avoid London, Sutherland House, and especially the Essex House Mansions for the foreseeable future.
Yours,
Philippa Darling
