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“James! Open this door at once.”
He groaned. Aunt Agatha. He rose to his feet and crossed the room to the door. He might as well get this over with. He knew that tone of voice; she’d pound the door until her fist turned bloody.
“Agatha,” he said too sweetly, “how lovely to see you.”
“You look like hell,” she barked, then pushed past him to settle into one of the library’s wing chairs.
“Still as tactful as ever,” he murmured, leaning against a tabletop.
“Are you drunk?”
He shook his head and motioned to the whiskey. “Poured a glass but never drank it.” He looked down at the amber liquid. “Hmmm. The surface is beginning to get dusty.”
“I didn’t come here to discuss spirits,” Agatha said haughtily.
“You did inquire as to my sobriety,” he pointed out.
She ignored his comment. “I hadn’t realized you had become friendly with young Lucas Hotchkiss.”
James blinked and stood up straight. Of all the non sequiturs his aunt might have chosen—and she was a master at changing the subject with no warning whatsoever—he certainly never expected this. “Lucas?” he echoed. “What about Lucas?”
Lady Danbury held out a folded piece of paper. “He sent you this letter.”
James took it from her, noting the childish smudges on the paper. “I suppose you read this,” he said.
“It was not sealed.”
He decided not to press the matter and unfolded the paper. “How odd,” he murmured.
“That he wants to see you? I don’t think it’s the least bit odd. The poor boy has not had a man in his life since he was three and his father died in that hunting accident.”
James looked up sharply. Apparently Elizabeth’s ruse had worked. If Agatha hadn’t managed to discover the truth about Mr. Hotchkiss’s death, then the secret was safe.
“He probably has a question for you,” Agatha continued. “Something he’d be too embarrassed to ask his sisters. Boys are like that. And I’m sure he’s confused about all that has happened in the past few days.”
James looked at her with curious eyes. His aunt was displaying a remarkable sensitivity to the little boy’s plight.
And then Agatha said, softly, “He reminds me of you when you were that age.”
James caught his breath.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. He is, of course, much happier than you were at the time.” She reached down and gathered up her cat, who had slunk into the room. “But he has that lost expression boys get when they reach a certain age and they don’t have a man to guide them.” She stroked Malcolm’s thick fur. “We women are, of course, extremely capable and, for the most part, far wiser than men, but even I must admit there are some things we cannot do.”
While James was comprehending the fact that his aunt had actually admitted that there existed a task beyond her capabilities, she added, “You are going to see him, aren’t you?”
James was insulted that she would even ask. Only an unfeeling monster could ignore such a request. “Of course I’m going to see him. I’m rather curious, however, about his choice of locale.”
“Lord Danbury’s hunting lodge?” Agatha shrugged. “It’s n
ot as odd as you’d think. After he died, no one had any use for it. Cedric isn’t fond of hunting, and since he never leaves London, anyway, I offered it to Elizabeth. She refused, of course.”
“Of course,” James murmured.
“Oh, I know you’re thinking her too proud, but the truth is, she has a five-year lease on her cottage, so the move wouldn’t have saved her any money. And she didn’t want to uproot her family.” Lady Danbury lifted Malcolm up into a standing position on her lap and let him kiss her nose. “Isn’t he just the most darling cat?”
“Depends on your definition of ‘darling,’” James said, but only to needle his aunt. He owed the cat eternal gratitude for leading him to Elizabeth when Fellport had attacked her.
Lady D scowled at him. “As I was saying, Elizabeth refused, but she allowed that they might move there once her rent came due, so she brought the entire family out for a visit. Young Lucas was quite taken with it.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I think it was the hunting trophies. Young boys love that sort of thing.”
