Read Online Aunt Dimity Takes a Holiday by Nancy Atherton - Free Book Online Page A

them.”
    “My uncle will be disappointed,” Oliver commented. “He believes riding to be an essential skill for every gentlewoman.”
    I snorted derisively. “Scratch me off the gentlewoman list, then. I’ll get over it.”
    Oliver gave me a searching look, then nodded once, as if in approval. “If you’d like fresh tea or coffee . . .”
    “I’ll be fine with what’s here.” I turned to survey the silver serving dishes crowding the sideboard. “Your uncle must have a shipload of galley slaves down in the kitchen.”
    Oliver shrugged diffidently. “The regular staff’s not as large as you might expect. Uncle Edwin takes on extra help when he has guests.”
    He seemed almost apologetic, as if he were embarrassed by his uncle’s aristocratic lifestyle. I wondered if he shared Derek’s aversion to conspicuous consumption.
    I loaded a plate with kippers, scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, and kedgeree and took a seat across from Oliver. It was the perfect opportunity to ask if he’d received a poison-pen letter, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. It wasn’t a subject that came up often in everyday conversation.
    “Enjoying the reunion?” I began.
    “Not much.” Oliver shrugged. “I manage my uncle’s portfolio. I’m better with paperwork than with people.”
    “Even when it’s family?” I said.
    “Especially when it’s family,” he murmured.
    I raised a forkful of kedgeree. “Did you all travel down together?”
    Oliver looked as though I’d asked him to juggle the kippers.
    “We never travel together,” he assured me. “I like to arrive early, Claudia always runs late, and Simon and Gina prefer absolute punctuality.”
    “So you got here first,” I prompted, fixing the timetable in my head.
    “Yes,” he replied. “Though Cousin Nell was here before me. I believe she arrived from Paris two nights ago. Uncle Edwin sent the car to fetch her from Heathrow.”
    While Oliver addressed his fried eggs, I ruminated. If Oliver had his facts straight, the Honorable Nell Harris—Derek’s darling daughter and the apple of Lord Elstyn’s eye—had arrived at Hailesham Park two days ago, in plenty of time to create the poison-pen letter and deliver it to Simon’s room. She could have torched the turtledove as well.
    I thought back to Nell descending the grand staircase as we crossed the entrance hall the night before. She’d been the last to come down to dinner. Had she been busy comforting her pyrophobic teddy bear, as she’d claimed? Or had she been scrubbing the stink of kerosene from her clothes?
    I remembered, too, the strange look she’d given Simon when Lord Elstyn had declared the fire accidental. In retrospect, it seemed as if she’d been gauging Simon’s reaction, checking to see if he’d made the connection between the fire and the death threat.
    Was the exquisite, intelligent Nell attempting to protect her father’s interests by driving Simon—the earl’s favorite—from the house? Or was Oliver attempting to cast suspicion on someone other than himself?
    I gazed contemplatively at the man sitting across the table from me. His meek exterior might disguise a veritable snake pit of jealousy and resentment. He might envy Simon’s looks, his easy way with people—even his marriage.
    “Are you married, Oliver?” I asked.
    Oliver turned beet-red and ducked his head just as Giddings arrived with fresh toast. Giddings placed the toast rack at my elbow, examined the serving dishes on the sideboard, and departed.
    “You know, Oliver,” I said after a moment of silence, “marriage isn’t for everyone.”
    “It is in my family.” A note of wistfulness entered his voice. “I simply haven’t been lucky enough to find someone as . . . useful . . . as Gina.”
    It was a revealing comment. Oliver, it seemed, was being subjected to the same kind of pressure Derek had experienced as a young man. Like Derek, he was expected to make a useful match—to place duty before love. Derek had