assured her.
*
“I hope you don’t mind,” Dan’s mother said to him during dinner that evening, “but I accepted Lady Cosland’s invitation to dine. On behalf of both of us.”
Dan, who had been performing complicated calculations in his head, dragged himself into the real world with a start. “What invitation?”
“Lady Cosland’s,” his mother replied patiently. “They are holding a dinner party for all the important families of the area to celebrate Lady Katherine’s engagement.”
“Oh, that. But we’re not an important family of the area.”
“Apparently, we count because of our connection to Grandfather,” Hugh explained.
Dan’s eyebrows flew up. “What, did they invite the old gentleman, too? Is he going?”
“How could he when he cannot get out his bed?” Aunt Tabetha demanded.
“I’ll wager he could if he wanted to,” Dan remarked. “But I take your point.”
“He wouldn’t go to Hornby if he could,” Colin said. “He hasn’t spoken to Cosland in decades.”
“Don’t suppose Cosland has invited him in decades either,” Dan replied.
“I’ll tell you what, though, Dan,” Hugh said, frowning in his direction. “Think you might need a better coat for the occasion.”
“This is my better coat. I’m hurt you didn’t notice.”
“I noticed it was black and not blue. And I know you’re not remotely hurt. I could lend you one.”
“It wouldn’t fit,” Hugh’s father said vaguely.
“I won’t care so long as it’s pink. Or yellow,” Dan said, grinning at Hugh. “Is it?”
“Of course not, dear boy,” Hugh said, apparently affronted. “Colors are for morning wear. Evening clothes are black. Apart from waistcoats.”
“I can’t wait,” Dan assured him.
He sat back while the servants cleared away the dishes and brought in an apple sponge pudding with vanilla custard.
Griffin, overseeing matters to his satisfaction, bowed to the table. “His lordship has asked me to pass on his invitation that you take a glass of wine with him after dinner. In his rooms.”
“Who?” Tabetha demanded.
“Everyone, ma’am,” Griffin replied. He bowed again and left.
“All of us?” Hugh said doubtfully. “Not sure I care to have a glass of wine thrown at me.”
“You’ve got to be quick,” Dan acknowledged.
“Is there even room for us all up there?” Mr. Ames demanded.
“I daresay Waits will make enough room,” Aunt Hetty said doubtfully.
“There is nothing worse than being forced into a crowded room with a sick person,” Mr. Ames said with a frown of worry.
“Then don’t go,” Aunt Tabetha retorted. “I doubt he meant you in any case.”
“Why would he not?” Hetty demanded with unexpected spirit. “I suppose my husband must count among everyone!”
Dan’s mother reached for her spoon. “If he doesn’t want us all, I imagine he’ll weed us out at the door in no uncertain terms. We should all go and be prepared to run.”
“Your levity is inappropriate,” Tabetha said grandly. “Have you considered he wants to see us all because he is actually dying?”
“No,” Jenny replied.
Hetty laid down her spoon. “Suddenly, I am not hungry.”
“Save it for later,” Hugh advised. “Think I will, too.”
After a day spent among numbers and riding about the various farms, Dan was not about to give up any part of the somewhat meager meal. Eventually, realizing everyone was staring at him, he shoveled in the last spoonful and rose, still chewing, and gestured with his hand toward the door.
“What’s got into the old devil?” he murmured as he walked upstairs with his mother.
“Who knows? You saw him last. How was he?”
Dan shrugged. “He let me prattle on for a bit but didn’t shout. Threw me out when his man of business turned up from Kidfield. I hope he wasn’t trying to dismiss the Patricks because I’ve been nagging him…”
Lord Myerly was discovered in his dressing room. Wrapped in a startlingly fine embroidered dressing gown, little worn but probably dating from the previous century, he sat in an armchair by the empty fireplace. Other chairs had been brought in, and he waved everyone toward them with surprising cordiality. Naturally, there weren’t enough. Hugh stood somewhat nervously behind his father’s. Colin leaned his shoulder against the side of the mantelpiece farthest from the old man. Dan, after helping Waits to distribute glasses and wine, rested his hip on the arm of his mother’s chair.
For a recluse, Lord Myerly seemed to enjoy being the center of attention as he gazed around his family.
“Don’t look so worried,” he said at last. “I won’t keep you long. Just thought you’d all like to drink a toast with me.”
“Your continued good health, Grandfather,” Colin said politely.
The old man glared at him. “My toast!” he snapped. “Which is to my