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“There are fifty-one in residence now. The numbers vary from time to time.”
“You certainly have your work cut out for you,” he said with a smile.
“I am well able to handle it,” she stiffly replied.
Apparently hehadoffended her.
“I’m sure you can. From everything Dr. Blackmore has told me, both institutions are very well run.”
“We are indeed fortunate to have Dr. Blackmore on the board.”
Since her chilly tone conveyed the opposite sentiment, Braden decided to leave off with the questions. Perhaps Mrs. Girvin was not someone John or Lady Samantha considered an ally. Still, her unfriendly attitude struck him as odd, since he was now on the board that she must answer to.
After knocking on a door at the end of the corridor, Mrs. Girvin ushered him into a long, narrow room with a marble fireplace at the far end. The oak-paneled walls were hung with portraits of what were presumably benefactors or previous board members. A polished mahogany table and matching chairs took up most of the available space. Both a coffee and tea service were laid out on a sideboard, along with plates of pastries. The fact that a substantial number of those pastries had apparently been consumed suggested the board had been kicking their heels waiting for him.
“Dr. Kendrick,” Mrs. Girvin intoned.
Lady Samantha, seated near John at the head of the table, looked up from a pile of documents stacked before her. A warm smile lit up her pretty features, and her velvety-brown eyes glowed with relief.
“Dr. Kendrick, you made it,” she exclaimed, jumping up. “We were beginning to worry that something had happened. I do hope all is well.”
Then she made a funny little grimace, as if she’d just committed a faux pas.
From some of the disapproving looks around the table, it appeared that she had. Braden, however, thought her utterly charming.
Of course, that had nothing to do with anything.
An older man with enormous gray whiskers huffed with apparent indignation. He put Braden in mind of a walrus.
“Lady Samantha,” said the walrus, “such dramatic exclamations are unnecessary. And I do hope Dr. Kendrick has a reasonable explanation for his late arrival. To keep the board waiting in such a manner is unacceptable.”
Dignified nods of agreement, along with equally dignified huffing, followed that salvo.
Braden bowed. “Lady Samantha, please accept my apologies. I was detained by a medical emergency and could not get away.”
“Gentlemen,” he added, scanning the room, “I beg your pardon for keeping you waiting.”
A spectacularly ancient fellow at the end of the table snapped out of a half-doze. He peered at Braden through a pair of pince-nez spectacles, as if trying to focus.
“What’s that? Speak up,” he querulously said. “Can’t hear a blasted thing at this end of the room.”
“Dr. Kendrick has arrived, my lord,” Lady Samantha said in a raised voice.
The old man adjusted his spectacles so he could scowl more effectively. “Just like a Kendrick, always causing trouble. And half the day gone already. At my age, that’s nothing to sneeze at.”
Lady Samantha crossed to the sideboard. “Let me pour you another cup of tea, Lord Robertson. That will be just the thing.”
“You’re already making quite an impression,” John murmured as he shook Braden’s hand.
“I’m only fifteen minutes late,” he murmured back.
“And yet a capital crime with this group.”
“I’m guessing my goose is already cooked, then?”
John chuckled. “You’re not slipping away that easily.”
“Bad luck, that.”
