Tea and Scandal Read Free

Harold was always a bit of a toper, beginning with ale for breakfast, through to a jug of brandy before hitting the tick at night. Mind you, he held his spirits like a gentleman. ”
    “ Nothing wrong with a wee drop, ” Horace said, tilting the wine decanter into his glass.
    Lady Sykes directed one withering look of disgust at her brother. He looked little better than a groom, in his wrinkled jacket and with that unkempt head of gray hair. He was the image of their papa, a hulking man with no elegance and no manners. Lady Sykes preferred to forget her ancestors. Thank God Horace made his home with Scawen, or she would be lumbered with him in London.
    “ It was the brandy that rotted Pargeter ’ s brain, ” she announced. “ Pargeter must have been insane to marry her. Insanity is an excellent excuse to overturn the will. And who performed the ceremony? I made sure it was Vicar Hellman, but he tells me he knew nothing of the marriage until he heard it from Lord Malton. They did not post any banns. That looks fishy. I doubt they were ever legally married at all. ”
    “ Special license, I believe, ” Scawen said, with a kindly smile. “ Perfectly legal. ”
    Lady Sykes snorted. “ I shall ask Belton to look into it. ” She rose, gathering her shawl around her, to retire.
    Phoebe regularly retired to her chamber at nine on the dot to fire offa barrage of scolding letters to all her near and dear. The gentlemen agreed they could not cope with her were it not for those few free hours at the end of the day. They exchanged a sorry look when the door knocker sounded. Nine was late for a caller, but not too late for Belton, and his calls always put Phoebe in a pucker. Lady Sykes resumed her seat, mentally arraying accusations, complaints, questions, and demands to put to Belton.
    Morton, the butler, appeared at the door of the saloon. “ Lord Fenwick, ” he announced.
    Lady Sykes leapt from the sofa as if she had been goaded by a cattle prod. “ Lord Fenwick! What the devil is he doing here? Show him in, Morton. ” She turned to Swann, adding, “ You ought to speak to that butler, Scawen. Leaving Lord Fenwick standing in that drafty hall, and in a soiled jacket, too. ”
    “ Fenwick never wore a soiled jacket in his life, ” Scawen chided her. “ A regular out and outer. ”
    “ Morton never wore a clean one. ” She said no more, for she had to compose her face into a smile to greet Lord Fenwick, who was top of the trees.
    To describe his appearance did not do him justice. He was of sufficient height and breadth of shoulders to qualify as well built. While not excessively handsome, his features were regular and pleasantly arranged: well-barbered brown hair, clever gray eyes, a straight nose, good teeth. His jackets, while impeccably cut, did not soar to any Olympian heights of dandyism. Yet with no outstanding features, he still managed to create a special air of consequence. His breeding showed in his easy manners, which never gave offense — unless he wished to.
    Lady Sykes had never quite managed to trace his relation to herself, but as they were both connected to Pargeter, she claimed kinship, and made the most of it.
    “ Fenwick! What a delightful surprise! ” she gushed. “ Do come in. Should you not be in London, enjoying the Season? ”
    Fenwick advanced gracefully across the room and made his bows all around. Then he lifted Phoebe ’ s hand and bestowed a kiss above it. “ I followed my heart — to you, dear Cousin Phoebe. What should the ton be discussing but your absence? ”
    She lapped it up like a hungry cat taking cream. “ Flatterer! Who would miss poor old me? ”
    “I not only missed you, my dear, but was so upset I asked Nigel where you were sequestering yourself, and came darting, ventre à terre ,at once to find you. ”
    “ Chasing after a filly, in other words, ” Scawen said.
    “ Au contraire, Cousin. ”
    “ Eh? What do you mean? ”
    “ He means a filly is chasing after him,