“Yes,” Alexandra added, “we are grateful for your perceptions.”
Ten minutes later, Alexandra was left alone with Annabelle Trelawny while Hollis saw to a problem in the kitchens. She said immediately, “You mustn’t worry that Hollis is still heartbroken over Miss Plimpton. Hollis always knows what he’s about.”
“Oh no, that doesn’t really worry me,” Annabelle said comfortably. “He’s right. I did know Miss Plimpton.” Annabella actually shuddered. “She was six years older than I and fancied that she knew everything. She was officious, my lady, but of course I would never tell my dear William that. I’ll never forget one time when he visited Miss Plimpton. I hadn’t yet left the house when I heard her tell him that her soul was fashioned in exactly the proper way to assist his soul to perfection. I would have thrown a vase at her, but dear William said something to the effect that his soul needed all the help it could get. Her death was really rather stupid, rather in keeping with her character. She was so busy telling one of her father’s parishioners all the errors of his ways that she didn’t see a step and fell off it, hit her head, and it was all over.”
Alexandra said, “Blessed hell-er, excuse me-but how very amazing this all is.”
“Well, perhaps I shouldn’t be pouring out all this vinegar, but the fact is, if Miss Plimpton had lived, she would have made the poor man miserable.”
When Hollis came back into the drawing room a few minutes later, the ladies merely exchanged a glance and that was that. A perfectly pleasant conversation followed among the three of them, about nothing and everything. Annabelle patted Hollis’s hand several times, easily done since his right hand was sitting very close to her shoulder, and said, “I have imposed myself for an exceedingly long time on her ladyship, William.”
Hollis hurried around the chair to assist her, although she didn’t need any assistance at all. By visual reckoning, Alexandra thought she was at least fifteen years Hollis’s junior. Was his name really William? But, the odd thing was, they looked very natural standing side by side, and when Hollis took her arm, he gave her such a sweet smile that Alexandra thought it matched hers, and hers was potent indeed.
When Hollis reappeared that evening at the dinner hour, he gave everyone a placid smile and announced that he and Annabelle were going to be married. Soon, he added, since a man couldn’t count on hanging about forever, and besides, a man wanted his wife with him at Christmas, when he placed a present in her hands and earned her gratitude.
“What sort of gratitude could Mrs. Trelawny show Hollis?” Jason wanted to know as he watched Hollis glide in his stately manner from the drawing room, but he knew. The thought of Hollis and Mrs. Trelawny even kissing, much less taking off their clothes, made his innards cramp up. His father, knowing exactly what he was thinking, threw his napkin at him, and said, “Gratitude is gratitude at any age. Never forget, Jason, if a man has the will and the parts, he’ll do just fine until he’s planted deep.”
Jason was hard-pressed not to hoot with laughter, but one look at his mother’s face stilled him. He cleared his throat. “Judith and Lady Arbuckle have finally agreed to come for a visit. I believe they will arrive tomorrow.”
“Excellent,” Jason’s mother said. “I have this feeling that we should perhaps get to know Judith McCrae a bit better. What do you think, Jason?”
“Oh yes,” Jason said. “Oh yes,” and he left the dining room, whistling.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JASON LOOKED LIKE a proud parent as the girl he planned to marry said to his father, “I have heard that Jason can tame any wild animal he finds.”
How did she know that?
“It’s true,” Douglas said slowly, his eyes on his son, who looked so besotted he was in danger of drooling. “He found an injured marten when he was five years old. The marten allowed Jason to wrap him in his coat and bring him home. He kept it in his bedchamber for two weeks. There have been a long line of creatures for him to tend since then.”
Judith saw that Jason wanted to know how she knew this and said simply, “Lord Pomeroy told me. He said he should know, since you burped up milk on his shirt when you were eight months old.
“I also heard it said that you even train cats to run in the cat races.”
“Who told you that?”
She lowered her eyes just a moment, a maneuver Douglas recognized and admired. “Why, I believe it was Corrie’s vampire who told me that. Devlin said he’d always wanted a racing cat, but there was some sort of approval that had to be granted. Is this true?”
Her dark eyes twinkled outrageously as she added demurely, “Devlin also told me that the cat races were held during the day, so what was he to do?”
“He should sod off,” Jason said under his breath.
Douglas said, holding his grin back, “The Harker brothers, old now, but still in charge of all racing rules, demand to know the bona fides of anyone who wishes to race cats. Jason here, even though cats don’t treat him to infinite trust as do other animals, still race well for him.” Douglas arched a black brow. “You spoke of Corrie’s vampire. Did you know that Devlin’s grandfather, the old duke, never left his house for the last five years of his life? Kept all the windows covered, not a hint of sun did he allow in. So Devlin is evidently following in his path, is he?”
“He does wear a hat when the sun is strong,” Jason said. “I think James wants to drive a stake through his heart, a rather black heart, according to James. With his bare hands, I believe I heard him say.”
“Oh dear,” Alexandra said under her breath and stared helplessly at the open doorway where the dowager countess of Northcliffe stood, those bright old eyes of hers glued on Judith.
No hope for it, she thought, and rose, sorry that she hadn’t had the time to warn Judith. “Mother-in-law, this is Miss Judith McCrae, here with Lady Francis Arbuckle, her aunt. Judith, this is Lady Lydia.”
“Ma’am,” Judith said, rising immediately and giving the dowager a graceful curtsy suited for a duchess. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Jason has told me about you.”
“He has, has he?” The dowager humphed loudly and took herself to a large winged chair and sat herself down.
“I asked Hollis to fetch me some nutty buns. Where are they?”
“Why don’t Judith and I find out?” Jason was on his feet, his hand reaching for Judith’s when the dowager said, “Oh no. I want the girl to remain here. Jason, you go get my nutty buns for me. Now, girl, you have a cheap Irish name. Who are your parents? How is Lady Arbuckle related to you? Where is Lady Arbuckle?”
“She went to her room, a headache, I believe.”
Douglas said, “Mother, Alex already told you about Judith. She isn’t here for an inquisition. Let Alex pour you a cup of tea and give one of your lovely smiles to our young guest.”
The dowager said, “Young lady, do you know that the Virgin Bride visits the ladies of the house?”
Judith, mouth ajar, said, “No, ma’am. I haven’t yet met the Virgin Bride. Jason has mentioned her, as did Corrie, but I don’t know anything about her.”
“She is a ghost, you ninny, a real ghost that my dear son Douglas refuses to admit lives here. The poor thing was left widowed even before she was a wife, and thus her name. I don’t believe it, of course, but my daughter-in-law here-who has more hair than she deserves and the color simply doesn’t fade, which is a pity since it is such a vulgar shade-and wouldn’t you think it would as she’s gained years? She believes in the Virgin Bride, claims that she’s visited her innumerable times, but will this famous ghost bother to tell her the name of the man trying to kill my son? No, she won’t, and I am tired of it all! I don’t think the Virgin Bride finds you worthy anymore, Alexandra. She finds you paltry and loose, always sticking our your bosom so that men will admire you, and wouldn’t you think that such a bosom would disappear as she’s gained years?”