It’s about time. You may sit with me; all the handsome men do.”
Amused, he took the seat next to her on the sofa. Lady Sophronia was tiny and must be over ninety, but her hair was still elaborately arranged, and dyed an unnatural shade of red. Unlike many elderly ladies who clung to the fashions of their youth, she wore a modern gown, although with the most unusual cape over her shoulders.
She noticed him looking at it. “Otter,” she confided, stroking it gently. “A gift from my second fiancé. Such a fine man he was; Russian, you see, and so virile.”
Wes blinked. “Indeed.”
“Have you been to Russia?” She nodded at Lady Alexandra, who was holding court for Justin and some of the other young people by the windows. “Alexandra tells me you’re quite a world traveler.”
“I have been to Russia, ma’am, though only once, and not for long. I prefer climates warmer than England, not colder.”
She gave a snort of laughter. “Missed your mark this time! There hasn’t been this much snow at Kingstag in decades. I should know, I’ve been here for seven of them.”
“Have you really?” he said in admiration. “You must know everything there is to know about the castle, then.”
Her gaze turned sharp. “More than likely. What’s sparked your curiosity?”
Unconsciously he glanced at Mrs. Cavendish. She was speaking to the eldest Cavendish girl, Lady Serena. “Nothing specific,” he said absently. “Mrs. Cavendish very kindly took me on a tour of the house today.”
“Did she? Viola’s a good girl.” Lady Sophronia nodded. “Wretched luck, of course, but she’s got spirit. I like her.”
“Wretched luck?” Wes tried to look only mildly interested, even though he’d gone tense and somehow concerned. Did Sophronia only mean that she was a widow? Reduced to working for wages? What bad luck had Viola Cavendish suffered?
The elderly lady shook her head and wagged her finger at him. “It’s not my place to tell you her life story. If you want to know, you’ll have to get it from her.”
Wes sat up a little straighter. “Indeed, Lady Sophronia, I meant no offense—”
She cackled with laughter. “No, of course not! You can’t keep your eyes off her. I may be old but I’m not blind. She’s a pretty girl . . .” She paused, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side, and gave a small shrug. “Not a girl, I suppose, but certainly young enough to be foolish about some things. Well, I’ll tell you this: her husband—a good lad, James, but no head for money, and a man without money is hardly worth marrying—was Wessex’s third cousin. Their great-great-grandfather was my uncle, and a duller person you never met. He was a Calvinist and as a consequence never spent a farthing on anything frivolous in his life. What a waste!” She shook her head, looking piqued. “He left his children provided for, but James . . . The men in that branch of the family are handsome as anything, but idiots, all of them, each in his own way. Thank goodness Wessex inherited some sense with his title, or we’d all be living on turnips and roasted squirrels. Have you ever eaten a squirrel?”
“Er.” Wes blinked at the diversion. “No. A crocodile once, on the banks of the Nile. But James . . .?” For once he had no interest in talking about his travels.
Sophronia seemed pleased. “Crocodile! How exotic.” She gave him a triumphant smile. “I knew you were not a dull person. I have no patience for dullards. You must tell me more about Egypt, and your visit to Russia. I always longed to see Sergei’s homeland. A Cossack shot him before we could marry. Such a cowardly thing to do. A proper duel with swords would have been at least romantic and exciting.”
“Of course,” he said, trying once more to get the conversation on more interesting topics. “I take it Wessex was close to his third cousin?”
“What? Oh no, he barely knew the boy.” She frowned. “Such a pity. James’s grandmother was my bosom friend. We had such times together! But she had a weak heart, as did all her family; they died young, every one of them I can remember. Naturally Wessex would look after James’s widow, but Viola was the one who insisted on a position.”
“She seems part of the family.” He watched as the woman in question spoke quietly to Lady Serena, who smiled warmly in return and clasped her hand for a moment. “Quite warmly received.”
Sophronia scoffed.