man’s family history. “What about something to drink? I have to warn you, I’m addicted to Lapsang Souchong tea. Helen claims that it tastes like dirty socks.”
“I… I could do with a cuppa. Thank you, sir.”
“Good,” he declared. “Have some and tell me what you think.”
She was adding a lump of sugar to the brew when the front bell rang again. Footsteps came running up a stairway in the back. “I’ll get it my lord,” a woman’s voice called. It was a Cornish accent. “Sorry about the last time. The baby and all.”
“It’s the croup, Nancy,” Lynley murmured to himself. “Take the poor child to the doctor.”
The sound of a woman’s voice floated down the hall.
“Breakfast?”
A lighthearted laugh. “What a propitious arrival I’ve effected, Nancy. He’ll never believe it’s purely coincidental.” Upon her last sentence Lady Helen breezed into the room and paralysed Barbara into a moment of breath-catching, ice-sheathed despair.
They were wearing identical suits. But while Lady Helen’s had obviously been cut by the designer himself to fit her figure, Barbara’s own was off-the-rack, a through-the-looking-glass chain store copy with rucked seams and altered hemline to prove it. Only the differing colours might possibly save her from complete humiliation, she thought. She grasped her teacup but lacked the will to lift it to her lips.
Lady Helen paused only fractionally at the sight of the policewoman. “I’m in a mess,” she said frankly. “Thank God you’re here as well, Sergeant, for I’ve a terrible feeling it’ll take three heads to see me clear of the muddle I’ve made for myself.” That said, she deposited a large shopping bag on the nearest chair and went directly to the sideboard, where she began browsing through the covered dishes as if food alone were sufficient to see her through her dilemma.
“Muddle?” Lynley asked. He glanced at Barbara. “How do you like the Lapsang?”
Her lips felt stiff. “It’s very nice, sir.”
“Not
that awful tea again!” Lady Helen groaned. “Really, Tommy. You’re a man without mercy.”
“Had I known you were coming, I’d hardly have been so remiss as to serve it twice in one week,” Lynley replied pointedly.
Unoffended, she laughed. “Isn’t he piqued, Sergeant? From the way he talks, you’d think I was here every morning, eating him out of house and home.”
“There
is
yesterday, Helen.”
“You vicious man.” She turned her attention back to the sideboard. “These kippers smell appalling. Did Nancy bring them up in her suitcase?” She joined them at the table with a plate piled high with a gastronomic argument of eggs and mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and bacon. “What’s she doing here, by the way? Why isn’t she at Howenstow? Where’s Denton this morning?”
Lynley sipped his tea, his eyes on the report on the table before him. “As I’ll be out of town, I’ve given Denton the next few days off,” he replied absently. “No need for him to come with me.”
A crisp piece of bacon halted in midair. Lady Helen stared. “You’re joking, of course. Tell me you’re joking, darling.”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting along without my valet. I’m not totally incompetent, Helen.”
“But that’s not what I mean!” Lady Helen drank a mouthful of the Lapsang Souchong, grimaced at the taste, and set down the cup. “It’s Caroline. She’s gone off on holiday for this entire week. You don’t think … Tommy, if she’s run off with Denton, I’ll be absolutely lost. No”—this as he was about to speak—“I know what you’re going to say. They have every right to their personal lives. I agree completely. But we simply must come to some sort of compromise over this—you and I—because if they get married and live with you—”
“Then you and I shall get married as well,” Lynley replied placidly. “And we’ll be as happy as hedgehogs, the four of us.”
“You think it’s
“I… I could do with a cuppa. Thank you, sir.”
“Good,” he declared. “Have some and tell me what you think.”
She was adding a lump of sugar to the brew when the front bell rang again. Footsteps came running up a stairway in the back. “I’ll get it my lord,” a woman’s voice called. It was a Cornish accent. “Sorry about the last time. The baby and all.”
“It’s the croup, Nancy,” Lynley murmured to himself. “Take the poor child to the doctor.”
The sound of a woman’s voice floated down the hall.
“Breakfast?”
A lighthearted laugh. “What a propitious arrival I’ve effected, Nancy. He’ll never believe it’s purely coincidental.” Upon her last sentence Lady Helen breezed into the room and paralysed Barbara into a moment of breath-catching, ice-sheathed despair.
They were wearing identical suits. But while Lady Helen’s had obviously been cut by the designer himself to fit her figure, Barbara’s own was off-the-rack, a through-the-looking-glass chain store copy with rucked seams and altered hemline to prove it. Only the differing colours might possibly save her from complete humiliation, she thought. She grasped her teacup but lacked the will to lift it to her lips.
Lady Helen paused only fractionally at the sight of the policewoman. “I’m in a mess,” she said frankly. “Thank God you’re here as well, Sergeant, for I’ve a terrible feeling it’ll take three heads to see me clear of the muddle I’ve made for myself.” That said, she deposited a large shopping bag on the nearest chair and went directly to the sideboard, where she began browsing through the covered dishes as if food alone were sufficient to see her through her dilemma.
“Muddle?” Lynley asked. He glanced at Barbara. “How do you like the Lapsang?”
Her lips felt stiff. “It’s very nice, sir.”
“Not
that awful tea again!” Lady Helen groaned. “Really, Tommy. You’re a man without mercy.”
“Had I known you were coming, I’d hardly have been so remiss as to serve it twice in one week,” Lynley replied pointedly.
Unoffended, she laughed. “Isn’t he piqued, Sergeant? From the way he talks, you’d think I was here every morning, eating him out of house and home.”
“There
is
yesterday, Helen.”
“You vicious man.” She turned her attention back to the sideboard. “These kippers smell appalling. Did Nancy bring them up in her suitcase?” She joined them at the table with a plate piled high with a gastronomic argument of eggs and mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and bacon. “What’s she doing here, by the way? Why isn’t she at Howenstow? Where’s Denton this morning?”
Lynley sipped his tea, his eyes on the report on the table before him. “As I’ll be out of town, I’ve given Denton the next few days off,” he replied absently. “No need for him to come with me.”
A crisp piece of bacon halted in midair. Lady Helen stared. “You’re joking, of course. Tell me you’re joking, darling.”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting along without my valet. I’m not totally incompetent, Helen.”
“But that’s not what I mean!” Lady Helen drank a mouthful of the Lapsang Souchong, grimaced at the taste, and set down the cup. “It’s Caroline. She’s gone off on holiday for this entire week. You don’t think … Tommy, if she’s run off with Denton, I’ll be absolutely lost. No”—this as he was about to speak—“I know what you’re going to say. They have every right to their personal lives. I agree completely. But we simply must come to some sort of compromise over this—you and I—because if they get married and live with you—”
“Then you and I shall get married as well,” Lynley replied placidly. “And we’ll be as happy as hedgehogs, the four of us.”
“You think it’s
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