Libby just shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Isn’t it a beautiful morning, Meggie? Would you care for a sweetmeat? The almond ones are exquisite. Niles tells me they have no substance to them at all so I can eat as many as I wish without gaining flesh. As for having more light in this room, goodness no. A woman of a certain age looks much fresher if there isn’t too much ghastly sunlight showing all the imperfections, don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” Meggie said and stared at Libby. She knew to her toes that Libby had been with Lord Kipper. She recognized that very self-satisfied look, that air of utter complacency, that sparkle that came from somewhere in the inside that made one want to hum and smile and fold one’s hands across one’s lap and do nothing at all except enjoy the sweet flow of life. She’d seen it on her own face when she’d looked in the mirror that morning. If William weren’t such a rotter, she’d still have that smile on her face, damn him.
“Thank you, but I’m not all that fond of almonds, Aunt Libby.”
Libby stopped humming. She rose slowly, shook out her skirts. “What is wrong, Meggie?”
“It’s William.”
“Oh my God—my precious boy is hurt? Someone has harmed him? Oh no. Don’t keep me waiting, Meggie, spit it out.”
“No, your precious boy is just fine. However, he has done a very bad thing.”
“Not just a simple bad thing? A very bad thing? That’s impossible. He is delightful. He is perfect, or nearly so. Now, what is this all about?”
“Come downstairs with me and I will let Thomas tell you.”
“Thomas is a man. Thus he will be rough and not at all conciliatory. You will tell me.”
“William has evidently gotten a local girl pregnant. Her father was here and quite enraged. He wanted to kill William. Thomas told the father that he would see to things, and so he will.”
“Oh, is that all?” Libby heaved a huge sigh of relief and sat herself down again. “Thomas can give the father a bit of money, tell him boys will be boys, and all will be well. You frightened me, Meggie. It wasn’t well done of you. Do tell Mrs. Black to bring me a bit of tea. Thank you.”
“But, ma’am—”
“Go away, Meggie.”
Meggie went. Pendragon Castle—it sounded so very wonderfully gothic, so very mysterious, filled with romantic legend. It sounded as if ancient memories and perhaps a sprinkling of magic could make their way into your bones if you lived here.
Surely Pendragon Castle hadn’t expected to have such a strange concatenation of people living in it, giving it not a whit of mystery, romance, or magic. What would future generations believe permeated the castle walls after this crew departed?
Thomas was pacing the estate room. He looked harassed. He looked to be talking to himself.
Meggie said from the doorway, “Aunt Libby doesn’t care. She doesn’t think it’s anything at all. She says you’ll just give the father a bit of money and that will be that.”
Thomas looked heavenward in utter weariness and said, “Why am I not surprised?” He sighed, plowed his fingers through his hair, which made her smile even through the dark cloud of misery William had brought into the castle.
Meggie said thoughtfully, “I suppose you could have him gelded, like a horse.”
“Now, there’s a good thought. Who would we get to do it?”
“The girl’s father,” Meggie said without any hesitation at all.
Thomas walked over to her and pulled her against him. “This is a damnable situation,” he said against her hair. Her hair—it smelled of some sort of flower, he didn’t know which. He found himself rubbing his nose in her hair, realized what he was doing, and pulled back.
“I am going to tell William that he will marry the girl, if, that is, she and her father will have him. I will also give her a dowry. And I will tell William if he doesn’t change his colors and become a decent husband, I will have him join the King’s navy. What do you think? I will also cut him off without a cent. That will doubtless provide his biggest incentive to keep his male parts at home with his wife.”