Now, when Charles knocked, Edmund was there and invited him to sit down.
“I’ve just been for a walk. I was wondering, do the Adamses still rent Darrow Farm?”
“Yes, indeed. Do you remember old Adams?”
“Remember him? He terrified us both for years.”
The brothers laughed. “Yes,” said Edmund. “I’m afraid he’s dead, but his son keeps the farm up. He makes a very good living out of it, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you remember—?”
They launched into a nostalgic conversation about the former tenants of the farms, which spread into a discussion of the masters at their grammar school, and it was nearly time for dinner when they had stopped.
“Are Molly and the boys coming back?” asked Lenox.
“I shouldn’t think so. They’re bound to go over to the Lenox Arms, which the boys think is the most thrilling thing they do. And Molly, truth be told, likes it herself. I’m afraid she’s quite lenient about it. But old Jos. Turner runs it, and he’s a good man. He’s in charge of nearly all the politics down at Markethouse, these days.”
This inaugurated another conversation, about Jos. Turner and his father, also called Jos. Turner.
They decided to eat in the library. It was dark by now, because the winter nights began early. Edmund lit some lamps and the two ate in front of the warm fire, on small trays, while snow began to fall outside.
Sunday had been a quiet day, but by Monday the house was again in full swing. Molly had invited a friend of hers to stay, a rather pompous but good-natured old woman named Lady Milton, and the boys went to school in the old wing of the house with several of the local boys. Edmund rode out with the land’s steward to look at the fields he had taken for himself, after an older childless tenant’s death, and Charles, who kept a three-year-old mare in the country, rode out with them.
The entire household had a lively lunch together with the local curate, who had just married a bashful young girl, and Lady Milton, who acted as a sort of godmother to Molly.
After lunch Lenox retreated to his small study, where he sat by the fire and read one of the books that his bookseller had shipped out the other day, at his request that anything new be forwarded to the country. It was a study of the Italian artists with color plates, and he was enjoying it quite a lot.
But he laid it aside after a few moments, to write down several thoughts he had had about Barnard, and made a note to ask McConnell for his opinion before picking the book up again.
He looked out the window. Yes, he thought, he was very comfortable—very happy here, among his family. But he would only stay for another ten days, not another three weeks as planned. And though he smiled at the prospect of the ten days, he smiled, too, at the prospect of being back on Hampden Lane, where any ring at the door could mean a new case.
His thoughts were interrupted, though, when he saw a single figure on the skyline. It occurred to him that he had been waiting all day to see such a thing, for it was the day when Lady Jane had said she would come up from the city to visit her brother, who had only recently become the next earl, after their father’s death.
He had been keeping an eye out for a carriage—but of course, he realized, she would ride. She was an excellent rider, even in winter, and had been since they were children and rode all across the county together. It was typical of her, Lenox thought, his feet up on his desk and his back to the fire—a singular strand of strength, beyond most women, ran through her, even when she seemed weak. So very few women rode.
A few minutes later the reunion was complete. She had kissed Molly and Edmund, given the boys (who had been permitted to leave their schoolroom) a small present, and said hello to Lady Milton. And lastly, she had given Charles a kiss on the cheek and looked into his eyes happily, while her hat brushed against his hair, and said she was very glad to see him again, and London had been lonely without him.
Chance had it that it was nearly
, and all of the party consented, graciously, to stay, though Lady Milton said that she had really better be going afterward.
One thing Charles could say for Molly was that she served an excellent generous tea, almost as good as his mother’s. There were hot muffins and biscuits, and there were a few sandwiches for the boys, who gulped them down as Charles and Edmund once had. Then there was a slice of cake all round, and after half an hour Lenox and Lady Jane had fallen into easy, happy conversation together while the group broke into smaller parts and everybody helped themselves to a third cup of tea.
Soon, unfortunately, Lady Milton would be obliged to go, and Sir Edmund returned to his office to look over a new report on the French alliance, and the boys went outside to play a complex ongoing game, which nobody but them could understand. Molly and her friend went upstairs to have a little time to themselves before Lady Milton’s departure, and the two neighbors were left alone.
“I should be going, I’m afraid,” said Lady Jane, “before it becomes dark.”
Charles looked through the window. “It’s started to already,” he said. “May I ride back with you?”
“Oh, you needn’t—it’s awfully cold, you know.”
“Ah, but I’ve been to get new boots, and I never get too cold, anyway.”
“Well, then,” she said, “yes, thank you,” and they took their coats from the butler and walked out to the parkway, where they only had to wait a moment for their horses.
“You shall have to come over for supper tomorrow,” said Lady Jane, while they waited. “Stephen”—her brother—“wanted me to ask.”
“Of course,” said Charles. “How long do you plan to stay?”
“Oh, two weeks or so.”
“Well, we shall see a lot of each other, I daresay.”
“Yes,” she said, and smiled.
The air was cool, but it was a beautiful night, and they rode off in tandem, galloping out of the park and into the countryside. They rode briskly to the west, talking and laughing together, until some minutes later Edmund, glancing up by chance in his library, could only see their twinned figure against the pale darkness of early evening, blurred together into one, far off in the distance.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
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A Beautiful Blue Death Page 27