‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is.’
‘I suppose you want to take her along as well as that infernal stolen horse?’ said Hilary sarcastically.
‘I have said it is not stolen,’ snapped Melusine indignantly. ‘And certainly I wish that Joan will come with us.’
Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. After all, you may easily come to fetch Mrs Ibstock when you need her. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification.’
‘Yes, that is reasonable,’ agreed Melusine, nodding.
Lucilla shoved Roding out of the way so that she could take hold of Melusine’s hands again. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. After all, if Valade—or no, what did you say was the villain’s name?’
‘Gosse,’ Melusine supplied.
‘Well, if the fellow Gosse is still at large, there’s no saying what he will be at next, is there? I see nothing for it but for you to see General Lord Charvill at once. After all—’
‘Yes, but I do not wish to see him,’ Melusine protested. ‘And it is perhaps not so necessary that I do so, because Joan has told me of another who may like to say I am the daughter of Mary Remenham.’
‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly.
‘I do not remember the name,’ Melusine said, turning to Mrs Ibstock. ‘You said?’
‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss.’
Roding started. ‘Sindlesham? But Gerald has gone out of town to visit that very person.’
Chapter Ten
‘I am come on a mission of some delicacy, ma’am,’ Gerald said calmly to the old lady.
‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat.’
Gerald could not suppress a grin. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’
A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. ‘I allow anyone in. I am quite indiscriminate, I assure you.’
Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald.
‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. ‘I have an arthritic complaint, which is why you find me retired from fashionable life. I rarely set foot in London these days.’
If she suffered from dragging pain in her joints, Gerald thought it explained why her features were prematurely lined. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface.
‘It is London’s loss, ma’am.’
Her features broke apart in a laugh. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy.’ The sharp eyes twinkled. ‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime.’
She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘You are an avid reader, I take it.’
‘Voracious. And not a worthy tome in sight. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit.’
Gerald laughed. ‘No doubt accompanied by the latest crim con tales.’
Mrs Sindlesham’s lips twitched. ‘But of course. Do sit down, dear boy. I have no intention of allowing you to depart in a hurry.’
Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. He had not thought to find a lady so ready of humour and willing to give him a hearing.
‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing.
‘Do you need an excuse?’
‘Oh, you know what doctors are. They will insist upon a catalogue of things one must not do, which does nothing but fill one with the greatest desire to do them.’
Gerald laughed. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from.’
Mrs Sindlesham’s alert glance found his. ‘She?’
‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. It slipped out—as did that “she”.’
‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. Much too young for you.’
‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. But come, sir. You intrigue me.’
To Gerald’s relief, the entrance of the butler interrupted them, relieving him of the necessity to explain himself. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip.
It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories.
