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Pea fixed a smile on her face and followed the old man’s straight back.
Kethnick led her to a large sitting room on the ground floor, announcing her in his usual fastidious fashion.
Pea stepped into the room, looking about in some eagerness to discover a relative of the Count. With his parents and brother long dead, Pea had started to think he must be entirely alone in the world. She was relieved to find that wasn’t the case.
The Count’s aunt sat in a wing-backed armchair next to one of the old, narrow, and insufficient windows, a book on her lap. Pea would have liked to have been charitable and describe the room that contained Lady Orton-Grey as bright, airy, spacious, charming. Anything but dark and gloomy. Unfortunately, the latter was exactly what the room was. Outside, it was a fair summer’s evening. Inside, it felt like a January afternoon.
The woman did not stand when Pea entered, but smiled in a rather formal way and said, “So, you are the young lady who has joined us so…unexpectedly.”
Pea fought the urge to curtsy. This wasn’t the eighteen hundreds, despite the Orton-Greys’ best attempts to pretend otherwise.
“Yes. Hello,” she said instead. “I’m Pea. Peony Ashley. But everyone calls me Pea.”
Lady Orton-Grey smiled slightly. “Your mother, I believe, calls you Margaret.”
“Well. Yes. Proving, I suppose, that every exception has a rule,” Peony quipped.
The older woman laughed at the deliberate misquote. “I’ve met your mother. I used to know her fairly well, in fact. She is a very…elegant lady.”
Pea couldn’t help but feel that Lady Orton-Grey cast an eye over her wild hair, colourful wax print dress, and bare feet as she said this.
“I’ve also met you before,” continued the older woman. “Though I very much doubt you remember it. It was your twelfth birthday party. A large affair at Lansbury Hall. You fell off the bouncy castle and broke your arm. No one believed you. Except my nephew.”
Pea flushed slightly, recalling the Count’s earlier disdain at her clumsiness. She did vaguely remember the birthday party his aunt referred to. She remembered the Count sitting nearby scowling as she bit her lip to hold back the tears and waited for the ambulance to arrive. All her friends had carried on playing. Had he been the one to call it? He must have been about fifteen. What an absoluteagethey had known each other for. More than half her life.
“I still have a pin in it,” said Pea, holding up her left arm briefly. “Terrible nuisance at airports. Sets off the metal detectors.”
The older lady smiled. “Come, sit. You may call me Rose.” She gestured to a seat nearby. “Tell me what you’ve been up to since that fateful birthday party.”
“Oh!” said Pea, as she sat down. “We’re both flowers. Peony and Rose.”
“And here I was thinking you were a vegetable, Pea,” said Rose, smiling.
Pea laughed, just as a deep, dark voice said, “Technically, she’s a seed.”
Pea jumped and looked up at the Count. How did such a large man move around so silently? He was regarding them closely. Pea would have liked to say the look in his eyes was amusement, or even fondness. But she couldn’t lie. The look was just…him. One fraction removed from a glower.
“You wanted me,” stated the Count. “To talk to me, I mean.”
“Yes. It’s about the orangery.”
“Oh?” said Rose, sitting forward with interest.
The Count flashed his relative a glance. “Actually, Aunt, I’ve just recalled that Cook emailed me this morning about the dinner you’re planning. It might be best if you talk to her directly. Things are bound to get lost in translation otherwise.”
“Right,” said Rose, with a quick look from the Count to Pea. “I had better get down to the kitchen then. We don’t want dolphin instead of dauphinoise, do we?”
Pea waited for the Count to take Rose’s vacated seat, but he remained standing. Because why be comfortable when you could use your immense height to glower down at people?
“What is it?” he said as she opened her mouth then closed it again.
“About my rooms here. They’re lovely, of course. Beautiful. Exquisite.”
“They were my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
Gosh. She’d had no idea. Now this was going to be even more awkward.
