Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,16
and the sideboard, as though torn between which to ravage first. He was certainly capable of reaching the food on either. The sideboard was unprotected, but Gun liked humans, and he may have imagined these ones could be induced to deliver tidbits and save him from Dan’s ire.
Almost mechanically, Dan moved forward and trapped the velvet leash under his foot before reaching for the scruff of Gun’s neck. The dog whined and gazed longingly at the table.
Three people glared at Dan.
“I should have known!” his cousin Colin Cornwell exclaimed in disgust. “Is this animal with you?”
Dan ignored that for the thought uppermost in mind. “Good Lord, the old boy’s not really about to croak, is he?”
“I suppose that is why you came!” Aunt Tabetha accused. “And think to frighten us all off with this monster while you steal my poor father’s money!”
“Oh, dear,” said Aunt Hetty. She generally said this quite a lot.
“Good morning,” Dan said wryly. “A delight to see you all again, too.”
“Perhaps,” Griffin intoned behind him, “the animal would be happier outside?”
Dan held out the velvet leash. “Perhaps in the walled garden. And if someone could find him a bowl of scraps from the kitchen, he’d be very grateful. He won’t hurt anyone, you know. Unless I tell him to,” he added with an amiable smile at his cousin Colin. “Gun, be good.”
The dog wagged his tail and went obediently enough with the wary Griffin, who held the leash at arm’s length. Gun glanced back a couple of times, clearly hoping Dan was coming, too. But Dan’s stomach was rumbling, and he needed to talk to his family.
“How is my grandfather?” he asked abruptly.
“I’m sure you’ll receive a summons and see for yourself,” Colin said, holding his mother’s chair so that she could sit back down.
Aunt Hetty didn’t wait for the courtesy, merely sat and cast a tentative smile at Dan.
“I did receive a summons,” Dan said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Then I’ve no doubt you’ll receive a second summons to his bedchamber,” Colin said. “Always a pleasure. I suppose you had better have some breakfast.”
“I suppose I had,” Dan agreed. He didn’t much like Colin, and he particularly didn’t care for the implication that he stood in as host for their grandfather. He even sat at the head of the table.
“Shouldn’t you change first?” Aunt Tabetha asked, looking Dan up and down.
“Probably, but I’m starving.” He helped himself from the meager leavings on the sideboard—namely two slices of toast, some very thinly cut ham, and the scrapings from a bowl of eggs. But at least there was coffee.
Dan sat down beside the more timid of his aunts and smiled at her. “How are you, Aunt Hetty?”
“Oh, dear. Quite well. Apart from rheumatism, you know, but… How handsome you are, Daniel. Jenny must be so—”
“How did you get here?” Aunt Tabetha interrupted ruthlessly. Normally, their infamous sister was not mentioned in the family except on the very few occasions they met.
“Stagecoach,” Dan replied.
Colin blinked. “With that animal? Or did you buy him in Kidfield, specifically to annoy us?”
Dan took a mouthful of coffee and set about piling some eggs and ham onto his toast. “You might find it hard to believe, but I don’t actually consider you at all in the ordering of my life.”
“Is there order to your life?” Aunt Tabetha wondered.
“Not much.” Dan bit into his toast and regarded his relatives while he chewed and swallowed. Tabetha and Colin Cornwell were, as always, immaculately dressed, the former in a severe brown morning gown and a stiff lace cap over her graying locks. Colin’s coat was excellently cut, new, and clearly from one of London’s foremost tailors. His hair was cut short and brushed forward into the fashionable “Brutus” style. Aunt Hetty looked no less expensive, just with less severity. Her hair tended to escape from its pretty cap, and she trailed several shawls half-falling from her neck and her arms.
Beside them, Dan was sure he looked exactly what he was: the poor relation. Once, it had bewildered him. Now, he didn’t care. Except that if Colin inherited the old man’s money, he’d make sure none of it went anywhere near Dan’s mother. Hetty’s son Hugh was better natured. Probably. But Hugh wasn’t here, and Dan suspected Colin had come to try and cut them all out of the old man’s will. Hence, his consternation at seeing Dan.
“What’s wrong with my grandfather?” Dan asked abruptly. “He isn’t really dying, is he?”