family. Direct descendants of Cosima and Peter Hamilton.”
She waved a hand in front of her face at the names. “We? Whom do you mean when you say ‘we’ve’ heard?”
“The e-mail first went to the Hall’s business address,” Rebecca said, “but it was for the Hollinworth family: you and Quentin.”
Elise’s fork stopped midway as she scrutinized Rebecca. “Strangers are trying to contact my son through the Hall? Yet another reason to sell off this place and remove ourselves from being such easy targets.”
“But they’re authentically related, Mum. They’ve traced their family back to ours. Well, Father’s line anyway. I’ll be eager to meet them.”
“Meet them? Why? Are you planning a trip to the US?”
“No, they’re actually coming here. I assume they’ll want to see the Hall, since this was where Cosima and Peter Hamilton lived and reared their children.”
“Surely you’re not having perfect strangers come here, Quentin?”
“No, not exactly strangers.”
“The whole idea is positively frightening. Americans, no less.”
“They have a journal,” Rebecca offered quietly, thinking even that probably wouldn’t change Elise’s mind. But Rebecca was in this with Quentin and didn’t want him fighting alone. “A journal belonging to Quentin’s great-great-great-grandmother.”
“I’m sure they do.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe a word.
“Have you checked your e-mail today, Quentin?” Rebecca asked. A slight shift in the topic might ease the tension. “Dana sent the text of Cosima’s journal.”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, not yet. I’ll look for it tonight. So you’ve seen it?”
“Only that it was attached. I didn’t have time to open it.”
“This is all so fascinating,” Elise cut in, “but I assume you both know you could be fooled by a family of con artists wanting heaven knows what.”
“Clever con artists, if so,” Quentin said, winking Rebecca’s way.
Maybe Rebecca was beginning to adjust to Elise’s abrasive personality. Or maybe that wink, like the grin he’d aimed Helen’s way, was enough to abolish whatever discomfort Rebecca still felt. She smiled.
“They’ve offered quite an extensive pedigree,” she told Elise. Even her voice sounded like her own again. “I don’t really see how it could be false. I’ve verified what I could with public records, birth and marriage certificates. It all appears legitimate.”
Elise eyed Rebecca. “How resourceful of you.”
“Besides, they don’t want anything, Mum. Just to see the Hall, and they can do that by making an appointment for a tour anyway. And something else. When we heard about the journal, Rebecca and I looked through the vault and found letters from Cosima and Peter’s generation that we’d like to share with these cousins of mine.”
The corners of Elise’s mouth went up as she looked at her son, but it wasn’t what Rebecca could call a smile. “It’s nice if you want to investigate Hollinworth history, Quentin. Keep it within the family, though. I don’t want any tabloid memoirs released of my family or your father’s.”
“Sharing a few letters with distant cousins isn’t making much of a public debut, Mum.” He took another sip of his iced tea, and Rebecca respected his demeanor. Rebecca could learn something from him, if only when dealing with difficult clients booking the Hall. “We are keeping it in the family, after all.”
Lady Elise sighed. “I don’t like the sound of these so-called cousins. Just don’t make me say ‘I told you so’ when these people try to cheat you out of this house or some of the funds it generates. I’d rather sell it than lose anything to frauds.”
8
* * *
Mr. Truebody was not to be found, having gone to Dublin for reasons his clerk would not disclose. You might recall I have some slight reservations about Mr. Truebody, but they are insignificant in comparison to my opinion of Mr. Flegge, the local constable to
She waved a hand in front of her face at the names. “We? Whom do you mean when you say ‘we’ve’ heard?”
“The e-mail first went to the Hall’s business address,” Rebecca said, “but it was for the Hollinworth family: you and Quentin.”
Elise’s fork stopped midway as she scrutinized Rebecca. “Strangers are trying to contact my son through the Hall? Yet another reason to sell off this place and remove ourselves from being such easy targets.”
“But they’re authentically related, Mum. They’ve traced their family back to ours. Well, Father’s line anyway. I’ll be eager to meet them.”
“Meet them? Why? Are you planning a trip to the US?”
“No, they’re actually coming here. I assume they’ll want to see the Hall, since this was where Cosima and Peter Hamilton lived and reared their children.”
“Surely you’re not having perfect strangers come here, Quentin?”
“No, not exactly strangers.”
“The whole idea is positively frightening. Americans, no less.”
“They have a journal,” Rebecca offered quietly, thinking even that probably wouldn’t change Elise’s mind. But Rebecca was in this with Quentin and didn’t want him fighting alone. “A journal belonging to Quentin’s great-great-great-grandmother.”
“I’m sure they do.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe a word.
“Have you checked your e-mail today, Quentin?” Rebecca asked. A slight shift in the topic might ease the tension. “Dana sent the text of Cosima’s journal.”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, not yet. I’ll look for it tonight. So you’ve seen it?”
“Only that it was attached. I didn’t have time to open it.”
“This is all so fascinating,” Elise cut in, “but I assume you both know you could be fooled by a family of con artists wanting heaven knows what.”
“Clever con artists, if so,” Quentin said, winking Rebecca’s way.
Maybe Rebecca was beginning to adjust to Elise’s abrasive personality. Or maybe that wink, like the grin he’d aimed Helen’s way, was enough to abolish whatever discomfort Rebecca still felt. She smiled.
“They’ve offered quite an extensive pedigree,” she told Elise. Even her voice sounded like her own again. “I don’t really see how it could be false. I’ve verified what I could with public records, birth and marriage certificates. It all appears legitimate.”
Elise eyed Rebecca. “How resourceful of you.”
“Besides, they don’t want anything, Mum. Just to see the Hall, and they can do that by making an appointment for a tour anyway. And something else. When we heard about the journal, Rebecca and I looked through the vault and found letters from Cosima and Peter’s generation that we’d like to share with these cousins of mine.”
The corners of Elise’s mouth went up as she looked at her son, but it wasn’t what Rebecca could call a smile. “It’s nice if you want to investigate Hollinworth history, Quentin. Keep it within the family, though. I don’t want any tabloid memoirs released of my family or your father’s.”
“Sharing a few letters with distant cousins isn’t making much of a public debut, Mum.” He took another sip of his iced tea, and Rebecca respected his demeanor. Rebecca could learn something from him, if only when dealing with difficult clients booking the Hall. “We are keeping it in the family, after all.”
Lady Elise sighed. “I don’t like the sound of these so-called cousins. Just don’t make me say ‘I told you so’ when these people try to cheat you out of this house or some of the funds it generates. I’d rather sell it than lose anything to frauds.”
8
* * *
Mr. Truebody was not to be found, having gone to Dublin for reasons his clerk would not disclose. You might recall I have some slight reservations about Mr. Truebody, but they are insignificant in comparison to my opinion of Mr. Flegge, the local constable to
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