Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,26
for one.”
“Are you, by God?” Jenny said, quite improperly. “What is she like?”
Hetty made a sound like a snigger and fell to blowing her nose.
“I’m surprised you can ask,” Tabetha said stiffly, “considering what you did to her poor husband.”
“I’m sure Lady Cosland is delighted I jilted her husband,” Jenny retorted. “She would not otherwise be his wife, would she?”
Dan grinned. Colin’s nostrils twitched with distaste.
Jenny gave her a conciliatory smile. “I’m sorry if my presence upsets you, Tabby, but the truth is, on the strength of the old gentleman’s summons, I have as much right to be here as you or Hetty.”
Tabetha sniffed. “Who is Mr. Pilney to be paying your expenses?”
Dan gazed out of the window.
“Mr. Geoffrey Pilney. He is a perfectly respectable gentleman who wants to marry me.”
Tabetha snorted. “Another so-called respectable—”
But unexpectedly, Colin interrupted her, staring at Jenny. “Mr. Pilney of Broome Hall?”
“You know him?” Jenny asked, apparently pleased.
“We are acquainted,” Colin said faintly.
“He’s rich as Croesus,” Jenny said frankly. “But quite charming for all that.”
Hetty emerged from her handkerchief, gazing at her sister in consternation. “Then what do you want with Myerly?”
“Nothing,” Jenny replied as the butler opened the door, and two aging footmen scuttled in with trays of food, which they set on small tables in front of Dan’s mother. “Oh, Griffin, thank you! This is wonderful!”
“His lordship,” Griffin pronounced, “has asked for you to join him at your earliest convenience.”
Everyone gaped, except Jenny, whose eyes twinkled at the butler. “Is that what he said?”
“More or less, ma’am.”
She ate a piece of toast with ham and cheese and swallowed. “I shall be up directly, Griffin. I still remember the way.”
Dan regarded her with some respect as the servants left the room. “Playing him at his own game, Mama?”
“By keeping him waiting?” his mother replied, reaching for another morsel. “Lord, no. I am starving.”
Under the somewhat outraged gaze of her sisters and nephew, much to Dan’s amusement, she continued to consume her breakfast with enthusiasm.
“Perhaps,” Tabetha suggested. “I should just step upstairs and explain to Papa what’s keeping you.”
“You could,” Jenny allowed. “But unless he’s changed hugely, I’d suggest you check first that he has nothing dangerous at hand to throw at you.”
“He’ll be saving that for you, Aunt, if you don’t hurry,” Colin observed. “I cannot like my grandfather’s temper, but it’s something we must all tolerate at this time.”
“If you ask me,” Jenny said, wiping her mouth on her napkin. “the problem is that you all tolerated it all your lives.”
“This from the one who was not here!” Tabetha exploded. “I have been the one to care for him, to put up with his foul moods and tantrums!”
Jenny rose to her feet. “Then more fool you, Tabby, for I’ll wager anything you like that he’s never thanked you for it.”
Tabetha’s face flushed a mottled red, but Jenny, murmuring “Excuse me,” did not appear to notice.
Dan strolled out of the room after her and closed the door. “You are rather magnificent, you know.”
“Sisterly banter,” his mother said, waving it aside. Reaching the staircase, she glanced at him. “Is she really here so often, looking after him? Has he needed it?”
“I would doubt it. As far as I can get out of Waits and Griffin, the old devil was fine until a couple of months ago, and then went downhill.”
Her eyes, for once, were serious. “Then he really is dying?”
“I don’t know that he is. Undeniably, he’s been ill and much weakened, but…well, see what you think.”
She paused at the door of her father’s rooms. “You don’t need to come with me.”
“I know. But I will.”
She searched his face and smiled. “No one believes me when I tell them how good you are.”
“Not surprised,” Dan said as the door opened, and Waits stood there almost crying with joy.
“Miss Jenny!” He took her proffered hands and hung on to them. “It fills my old heart to see you at Myerly again at last.”
“Bring her in here, you old fool!” came Lord Myerly’s irascible tones.
Waits sighed and bowed them through.
“Well, well, Mrs. Stewart,” the old man mocked from his bed. “I am honored indeed.” He scowled, catching sight of Dan. “What are you doing here? Go away. I didn’t send for you.”
“Nevertheless, I shall stay,” Dan said mildly, holding the chair by the bed for his mother to sit.
“And why is that?” the old man challenged.
“To remind her, if necessary, that she doesn’t need to put up with your insults.”