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“As your appetite is even more voracious than usual, you must be working like a navvy. Is the house nearly finished?”
Dominic had ridden into Alnwick yesterday to speak to his uncle’s solicitor. “There’s no rush, but there is a possibility it can be turned into a home for the destitute. Evidently there are quite a number of sad cases in this parish. I wonder what Cecil would have thought of that?”
“Who knows what he would have thought, Nic? I try not to think about him.”
“Well you will have to tomorrow morning. We are burying him then, remember.”
“I haven’t forgotten. A small, private ceremony, you said. I wonder if anyone told the villagers that? I believe word has spread far and wide.”
“Well the private parlour we booked here at the inn will only hold twenty, and even then it will be a crush. If there are any gawkers they will have to stay outside.”
“I can’t imagine we will need room for twenty. Great Uncle Cecil never saw anyone or went anywhere.”
Dominic set his plate aside. Once Sir Cecil was buried it only remained for him to decide on the fate of the house, then there would be nothing to keep him here in Denwick. Well, apart from Margaret.
“If I agree to turn the house into a benevolent asylum I will leave Sir Cecil’s funds in trust, to help with the running of it. In essence it will be self-sustaining.”
“Or you could always live there yourself,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes.
“I have a perfectly good house in London, and an estate in the country. Perhaps you would consider taking it, sister? I’d offer you a good rate.”
“Very funny. I’ll never forget seeing Great Uncle Cecil lying in his bed, staring back at me.” She shuddered, and he knew how she was remembering the female servant fetching her the morning after they’d arrived, believing the old man was ill. “I don’t know why they didn’t fetch you instead.”
“Yes, I’m sorry you had to see that,” Dominic said, pushing his plate away and wanting to change the subject. “Your cold seems to have improved. Are you feeling better? You could have come with me to Alnwick.”
“Yes, I am feeling better. And I don’t need to go to Alnwick; I’ve made very good friends with one of the maids and she tells me all the gossip. Did you know that Margaret’s curate was the sort of young man everyone thinks the world of? Sweet of nature and handsome. Thoughtful and understanding. What more could a woman want? I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
Dominic stared into his coffee cup.
After watching him a moment Sibylla added, “And the vicar, of course. I am very keen to meet him.”
“Are you?” Dominic gave her a look of disbelief. “That’s a treat still in store for you then.”
“Yes, I am looking forward to it. Really,” she repeated with a laugh when he gave her another doubting look. “I’m interested in people, Nic. Even ones who aren’t very nice.”
“Well you’ll see the entire village tomorrow morning when we lay Great Uncle Cecil to rest.”
“I suppose I will. Perhaps I should have come with you to Alnwick, after all. I could have bought some new ribbons for my bonnet. Although they would have to be black, wouldn’t they? I do hate mourning.”
Before Dominic could respond the door opened abruptly and they both looked up.
Dominic had expected a servant but the woman who stood there was a tall and stern creature, with chilly grey eyes in a long face. She seemed to expect them to know her, but when neither of them spoke nor moved, she informed them in an aristocratic voice that she was Lady Strangeways, adding, “I thought it was time I introduced myself to you.”
Dominic rose to his feet and bowed politely, while Sibylla gave a little curtsey. “Lady Strangeways,” he said, smiling. “How do you do? I have heard your name mentioned by Mr Willoughby.”
“Mr Willoughby is the very best of men,” she responded, evidently not believing small talk was necessary. “He knows his own mind. So many men of the cloth are insipid sorts of fellows.”
“Indeed.” Sibylla offered her a seat and her ladyship took it. A servant appeared when Dominic rang the bell, and he asked her to clear the table and bring fresh coffee and tea. All the while he could feel the woman’s eyes on them both. What on earth was she doing here? Sibylla seemed to be wondering the same, catching his gaze and raising her eyebrows.
“I have heard of you,” Lady Strangeways said, as soon as they were alone again. The disparaging note in her voice made him think that what she had heard was not to her liking. If Dominic was the sort of man to be easily intimidated then he might be now, but he wasn’t.
“Have you?” he asked with mild curiosity.
“Oh yes,” she said, nodding her head. “The Earl of Monkstead and Lady Sibylla. You are quite a ramshackle pair.”
“Oh no,” his sister said in a fake airy tone, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. “I think you’ll find my brother is a very serious sort of man. It is I who am ramshackle, Lady Strangeways.”
The other woman flicked her a glance but otherwise took no notice of her, her attention fixed on Dominic. “Perhaps you think there is amusement to be had in our little village? No doubt we are quaint in comparison to the inhabitants of London.”
