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

been strong enough to resist the earl’s demands, but Oliver seemed more frail.
    “I’m not sure usefulness is the first quality I’d look for in a mate,” I said gently.
    “You would if you were an Elstyn.” Oliver paused. A tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he glanced at me. “On second thought, perhaps you wouldn’t. You’d marry for love and damn the consequences.”
    I looked at him closely. “What sort of consequences?” “Estrangement from one’s family.” He lowered his eyes. “A questioning of rights that would otherwise be assumed.”
    “Is that why everyone’s here?” I pressed. “Is Derek’s birthright in question?”
    Oliver lifted his eyes to gaze at me somberly. “I should think so,” he said. “I should think it very likely. Uncle’s not getting any younger. He’s got to consider the future.”
    “Would it be legal for someone other than Derek to inherit Hailesham?” I asked.
    “Gina can find a way to make anything legal,” Oliver replied. “She’s extremely good at what she does, especially when she has a vested interest.” He hesitated. “I imagine you’ve run into similar difficulties in your family.”
    I nearly sprayed the tablecloth with tea. After a valiant swallow, I hastened to clear up Oliver’s extraordinary misconception.
    “My family consisted of my widowed mother and me,” I told him. “Our entire apartment could have fit into your uncle’s drawing room. I never had to fight for my inheritance because a) there was no one to fight with, and b) there was nothing to inherit. So, no, I’ve never experienced anything remotely like the difficulties you’re describing.”
    “I do so admire your frankness.” Oliver sighed deeply. “The trouble with my family is that no one tells the truth. Claudia says she misses her husband, but she doesn’t. Derek and Uncle Edwin act as if they hate each other, but they don’t.”
    “Don’t they?” I interjected.
    “They wouldn’t be able to inflict such dreadful wounds on each other if they didn’t love each other.” Oliver glanced toward the windows. “Then there’s Simon. My perfect brother. Poor chap. He pretends to be happy, but he isn’t.”
    I toyed with my fried tomatoes. “Why isn’t Simon happy?”
    Oliver laid his knife and fork aside, saying, “I’m hoping you’ll find out.”
    I looked up from my plate, startled.
    “Something’s troubling Simon,” Oliver went on, his brow furrowing. “It’s been troubling him for some time. He won’t—he can’t—admit it to any of us, but I think he might tell you.”
    I focused on the tomatoes. “What gives you that idea?”
    “He likes you,” Oliver replied.
    “If you ask me,” I said, “your brother likes anything in a skimpy dress.”
    Oliver smiled but shook his head. “I watched the two of you in the rose garden last night. He was looking at you, Lori, not your dress. He trusts you.”
    “He’s only known me for five minutes,” I protested.
    “Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Oliver said. “Perhaps it’s because you’re not part of our world. You’re not an Elstyn, you’re not English, and you weren’t born to wealth.” He rested his hands on the arms of his chair. “My brother hasn’t met many women like you, Lori. You speak your mind. You don’t paint your face or color your hair. You don’t try to conceal the fact that you’re dazzled by Simon, or irritated by Claudia, or jealous of Gina.”
    I felt myself go crimson. “Remind me never to play poker with you, Oliver. In fact, remind me never to play poker, period.”
    “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Oliver said earnestly. “You simply can’t help being honest. Perhaps that’s why my brother trusts you. I’m convinced that he’ll confide in you.”
    It was comforting to know that although Oliver had discerned much from my treacherously transparent countenance, he hadn’t yet figured out that his big brother had already confided in