Read Online The Ashford Affair by Lauren Willig - Free Book Online Page B

know much about my grandparents, but I do know the basic things, like where they grew up”—his face turned grim—“and where they died.”
    Clemmie tilted her head in inquiry. All this looking down was making her neck hurt. She perched, gingerly, on the corner of the bed.
    “Auschwitz. Both my dad’s parents.” Jon tapped a finger against the corner of the book. “Trust me, I’d trade you.”
    “It’s just—it’s too weird,” said Clemmie. “It’s like something out of a Frances Hodgson Burnett novel.”
    Jon grinned. “You make a very cute Little Lord Fauntleroy. Especially with the new haircut … What was that kid’s name?”
    Clemmie held up her hands. “Search me. I was always more a Secret Garden girl.”
    Jon plopped the book back in her lap, leaning over her arm to turn the pages.
    “You see that?” He was pointing at the massive epergne, the one with all the elephants.
    “It would be hard to miss it.” He smelled of generic dandruff shampoo, Old Spice, and laundry detergent. Guy smells. Lazy Sunday morning hanging out in bed smells.
    She really needed to get back out there on the dating market. Clemmie forced her attention back to what Jon was saying.
    “Apparently, Granny Addie’s uncle was almost appointed Viceroy of India.” At Clemmie’s blank look, he explained, “The viceroy was the Governor of India. It’s basically playing king on behalf of the king. The viceroy had semi-regal powers. Hence the name. Vice. Roy. Roy from the French, roi. Demi-king.”
    “Your students must love you,” said Clemmie dryly. “So what happened?”
    Jon grinned. “They appointed someone else. But apparently, Lord Ashford never really got over being passed over. He picked up any Indian knickknacks he could, to remind people that he might have been there.”
    “That’s quite a knickknack.” Clemmie pushed her hair back behind her ears, asking the question that was eating at her. “Jon, how do you know all this?”
    “Because I asked.”
    Clemmie gave him the stare she used on annoying junior associates.
    “This is my time period,” he reminded her. “Modern Britain. I stumbled on some stuff about the family—your family,” he corrected himself, “when I was working on my dissertation. So I asked Granny Addie about it.”
    “When?” Clemmie asked.
    Jon did some mental computation. “It was right after I did my research year in London. That would have been … nine years ago? Awhile.”
    “So you’ve known this for a long time.” Clemmie moved the book away from him and closed it, resting her palms on the cover.
    Jon sighed. “Look,” he said, and, for a moment, he sounded eerily like Aunt Anna, her favorite expression in her favorite tone. “I think it was easier for Granny Addie to talk to me. I wasn’t part of the family. It made things … simpler.”
    Clemmie nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, “I get that.” Although she didn’t, really. “And you asked.”
    Jon leaned towards her, bracing an elbow on the bookshelf. “It’s not a unique art,” he said, his hazel eyes intent on hers. “You can ask, too. If you really want to.”
    Yes, but would Granny Addie still be able to answer? “That sounds like a dare.”
    “It wasn’t meant to be.” Jon levered himself up off the daybed. It felt, somehow, colder without him there. He stood, looking down at her. “Knowledge can be a double-edged sword. You need to decide whether it’s worth cutting yourself on it.”
    “Did you get that out of a fortune cookie?” Clemmie got clumsily to her feet, her legs stiff from sitting. “You have my coat somewhere, right?”
    “On the chair. In the hall.” Jon followed her out into the hallway as she retrieved her coat. She felt his hands take the back of her coat, relieving the pressure as she tried to struggle into the sleeve. “Are you sure you want to go poking around in the past, Clem?”
    Clemmie tugged sharply on the lapels of her coat, pulling it into place. “You