Something Dangerous (Spoils of Time 02)

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Authors: Penny Vincenzi
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and then called a taxi and went to Lytton House. He was in Celia’s office for less than five minutes; that afternoon Pandora received a note, delivered by hand, inviting her and Sebastian to a family dinner at Cheyne Walk on the following Thursday.
I do hope it will be convenient for you; the entire family will be there, including Barbara Miller and my parents, the Earl and Countess of Beckenham, all of whom are most eager to meet you. As of course am I. I look forward to receiving your acceptance.
Yours sincerely,
Celia Lytton
    It was, as Pandora remarked just slightly huffily, strongly reminiscent of a royal command: ‘Suppose it wasn’t convenient?’ but Sebastian told her that as with a royal command, convenience was not even a consideration.
    ‘She has asked us, my darling and we will be there. And I daresay you will fall in love with her as everyone does and forgive her all her monstrous behaviour.’
    ‘I have no intention of falling in love with Celia Lytton,’ said Pandora firmly.
    Sebastian grinned at her. ‘Well, we shall see,’ was all he said. And then watched her struggling not to let it happen.

    ‘So, my little genius, what are you going to do now?’ he said, refilling Barty’s glass.
    ‘Oh – I haven’t thought yet.’
    ‘I bet you have.’ His dark blue eyes were on hers, thoughtful, probing.
    ‘Well – only vaguely. You know.’
    ‘Enjoy a bit of well-earned leisure?’
    ‘Goodness no. Nothing I’d hate more. I like to be busy, all the time.’
    ‘I know you do. But a few weeks wouldn’t be a bad idea. Are you going to this villa of theirs?’
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Barty with a sigh, ‘I really don’t want to. But what excuse do I have, and—’
    ‘Might be fun.’
    ‘It won’t be fun,’ said Barty.
    ‘What won’t?’ said Kit. He had left the room to get himself some lemonade.
    ‘Oh – nothing,’ said Barty quickly, ‘just leaving Oxford, looking for a job.’
    ‘Why do you have to look for a job?’
    ‘Because she likes working,’ said Sebastian, ‘she’s addicted to it. Like your mother.’
    ‘And you,’ said Kit.
    ‘Well, maybe.’
    ‘But not the Terrors.’
    ‘They don’t seem too addicted to work, no.’
    ‘Anyway, Barty, you don’t have to look for a job,’ said Kit, ‘you’ve got one already.’
    ‘I have?’
    ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘What is it?’ said Barty, intrigued.
    ‘Well, working at Lyttons,’ he said, adding with all the simplistic logic of a child, ‘everyone in the family does.’
    ‘But I’m not—’ said Barty and stopped.
    ‘The Terrors don’t,’ said Sebastian, cutting into the conversation smoothly.
    ‘I expect they will. Mummy – Mother – says they will one day. When they’ve grown up a bit. I heard her talking to Father about it.’
    ‘You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations, young Kit,’ said Sebastian, ‘it’s not the done thing, you know.’
    ‘Oh, but I was there,’ said Kit, looking hurt. ‘Not listening outside the door or anything. I was reading, they never take any notice of me, just carry on talking. Mostly about boring things. Anyway, that’s what she said, Mummy, I mean. And then she said that of course Barty would too. As soon as she came down from Oxford.’
    Barty had gone rather pale. ‘Did she really, Kit?’
    ‘Yes, of course. She said you should train to be an editor, that you’d be wonderful. Better than Giles, she said you’d be,’ he added with a sweet smile.
    ‘I think Giles will be a wonderful editor,’ said Barty staunchly.
    ‘Mother says he has no idea.’
    ‘But—’ said Barty and stopped again.
    ‘Of course he could be,’ said Sebastian quickly, ‘a wonderful editor, I mean, but I know Oliver sees him moving into the managerial side. He will be Mr Lytton the Third after all. LM says he’s marvellous with figures.’
    ‘Well, there you are,’ said Barty. ‘Much more important than being an editor.’
    ‘Anyway, she wants you to be an

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