Chapter 5: Granny O

My uncle came for Kitty on Thursday at nine, as he had promised, and the Dowager received him in the hall.

She stood at the foot of the stairs in her turban with her cane planted.

Kitty stood at her elbow with a piece of toast.

"Montague," said the Dowager. "You have the complexion of a plum."

"Ottoline." My uncle bowed, genial as a bishop. "I've come for my ward."

"Your ward is breakfasting."

"My ward is seventeen, and her guardian is under no obligation to leave her in a house of this reputation."

"It is my house," said the Dowager, "and it has the same reputation as yours, only better dressed."

Gervase came down the stairs in his shirtsleeves with a pen behind his ear.

He did not hurry.

He stopped beside me, and I felt the warmth of him along my arm.

"Brayne," he said. "You've met my wife's sister."

"I'm taking her home."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"The law gives me a guardian's right."

"It gives you a great many," said Gervase pleasantly. "I'm told you've not always been as careful as you might.

"Kitty, would you like to go?"

Kitty swallowed her toast.

"I'd rather eat my notebook."

"There you are," said the Dowager. "A conclusive answer."

My uncle looked at the four of us.

I watched him count what he could do in front of a Duke and a Dowager.

A footman had found something fascinating in the umbrella stand.

"Very well," he said, and smiled.

"Mina, my dear. I shall write to you."

He went out, and the door closed with a bland soft click.

"Charming man," said the Dowager. "I should like to see him hanged."

I found, on my way to the dining room, that my hands had begun to shake.

Gervase caught one of them and held it for a moment.

"Breakfast," he said.

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