When neither elaborated, Diana asked, “What was wrong with Gervais?”
“It’s finding what was right about him that would take less time to answer.” Olivia was now frowning at the cherub. “He wasa man of many faults and vices with the coldest eyes I have ever seen.” She shuddered at the memory. A genuine shudder rather than a feigned one and so out of place on Olivia, it unsettled them all.
“What she is politely trying to say is that Gervais Sinclair was—isif he is still alive—a thoroughly nasty piece of work by all accounts.” Giles was unoffended by Olivia’s visceral reaction. “A debauched libertine, liar, and larcenist who left a trail of destruction, debt, and scandal wherever he went and who did something so heinous, evil, and atrocious he became persona non grata in society. However, as I was still in leading strings when he was banished in disgrace and the duke couldn’t speak of him without turning purple, I was denied all the goriest details of the scandal.”
“Lady Caroline Derbyshire.” Olivia was still shaking her head. “The poor thing. Gervais Sinclair went out of his way to woo her after Giles’s grandfather disowned him and eloped with her to Gretna Green.”
“Eloping isn’t a criminal offense.”
“Not usually, Diana, you are quite correct. But when the bride gets taken there bound, gagged, and drugged it is.”
Their host nodded. “Indeed—dear old Uncle Gervais was a kidnapper.” It was Giles’s turn to frown at the cherub. “Before that, by all accounts, he was in and out of debtors’ prison and gambled away every coin that crossed his palm.” He turned to Vee with a matter-of-fact expression. “Gervais is undoubtedly the naughtiest Sinclair in recent years. His infamy puts my scandalous reputation to shame.”
“And why have I never heard of this, either?” Hugh was put out by his best friend’s blatant secrecy and his mother’s poor memory.“After all these years, suddenly all of these skeletons are jumping out of your cupboard.”
An odd look skittered across Giles’s features, which he covered with a mischievous smile. “And this is coming from a man who hid the fact he possessed a sister from me for a decade!” Hugh had had plenty of those skeletons himself before he fell in love with Minerva. “People in glass houses really shouldn’t throw stones, old boy, and in my defense I never mentioned Gervais because nobody ever mentions Gervais after what he did.”
“The Derbyshire elopement was a dreadful scandal at the time, dear.” Olivia patted Hugh’s arm. “Thankfully, the law caught up with him before they crossed the border and Gervais was arrested and charged, but he absconded on the journey back to London and fled the country. Many suspected your grandmother aided his escape, Giles. She never made any secret that Gervais was the apple of her eye, and she wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he were convicted and perhaps executed for the crime. Her husband—”
“Dueling George,” said Giles helpfully while pointing to his portrait.
“The very one… yes, he was a truly disagreeable man, too… was dead by then but your father sent her away on the back of it and we never saw her in society again. I suppose he didn’t want the scandal rehashed after he had worked so hard to bury it.”
“I never met her so I couldn’t comment with any authority on the state of their relationship.” Giles stared at her portrait and shrugged. “Though I do recall being told she had died when I was ten or so. I have no idea if my father attended her funeral. Such knowledge would require a conversation rather than a lecture, and we never had one of those, either.” He was making light of it,but the lonely tales of his childhood tugged some more on Diana’s heartstrings.
“And Lady Caroline?” Vee’s eyes were wide.
“Disappeared from society, too, the poor dear, we never saw her again. All very sad and tragic, and all thanks to the vile Gervais.” She stared at the portrait as if the mere likeness in oils offended all her sensibilities. “Do you know where the scoundrel is now, Giles?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea. He could be long dead for all I know, and by the sounds of things, good riddance if he is.” He stared at the portrait for the longest time, then sighed as if all his immediate ancestors were a mystery to him. “Shall we continue exposing the Sinclair skeletons over some tea?” He gestured to another door flanked by suits of armor. “I’ve asked for it to be taken to the library as that has always been my favorite vestibule and is much cozier than the drafty drawing room.”
He opened the door with a great flourish for Vee, who was first in line, and beamed at her awed expression. “It’s quite a library, isn’t it, Miss Vee?”
Her sister nodded. “One I could lose myself in for hours. Weeks even!”
Like the Great Room, this one also had high vaulted ceilings, but instead of oak paneling it was thousands upon thousands of books that covered the walls.
“Godfrey Sinclair was a scholarly fellow and insisted on a space with some gravitas for all his books. I adore the smell of this room.” Giles inhaled and so did Vee, then they grinned at each other.
“Beeswax and knowledge, my favorite combination.”
“I am glad you approve, Miss Vee, for I am declaring this space yours for the duration of this visit.”
Vee sighed. “In that case, I might never leave.”
One by one they all filed past him to explore the space, but Diana held back. Once everyone was out of earshot, he regarded her quizzically as she rummaged in her reticule for the precious cargo she had had to get up at the crack of dawn to collect before the Standish carriages left for Shropshire. “I brought you a present.”
“Youbroughtmea present, harridan? Has the world gone mad?”
“Don’t get too excited, it is only—”
“Your tea, Your Grace.” Out of nowhere, Dalton rushed toward them holding a cup and saucer, the clonk of his wooden leg reverberating around the cavernous space, the beverage sloshing over the sides in his haste to get to his master. “Brewed to perfection for precisely four minutes and, as you can see, is the exact burnt umber shade you favor.”
Hot on his heels was a small, plump woman who seemed extremely put out by Dalton and elbowed him as she barged past. “Your biscuits, Your Grace.” She proffered a plate of shortbread at him as if it were as precious as the Holy Grail. “Fresh from the oven and sprinkled with sugar exactly as you like them. I saw to the sugar myself.”
Diana turned to Giles, perplexed. “What is going on?”
He leaned toward her and whispered, his warm breath against her ear playing havoc with her senses, “The War of the Servants. Shropshire versus London. Dalton versus Townsend. Both feel threatened so are fighting for my affections by trying to outdo each other.”
