The Wyndham Legacy (Legacy 1)

“Doubtless you’re right, ma’am. However, in the natural order of things, since you’re many years my senior, you will quite probably reach your end before I do.”

“One can only hope,” Marcus said under his breath but still within hearing of his American aunt.

“You deserve to die too. Her insults you approve.”

“Good he

avens, Mama? What did you say?”

“Nothing at all, Ursula, merely that Marcus deserves a shy wife, one who doesn’t insult her relatives, which is what the Duchess does, doubtless out of ignorance brought on by her lack of breeding.”

The Duchess laughed.

“You are such a crone, ma’am. I hope you get clipped by a carriage wheel.”

“Marcus,” Aunt Gweneth nearly shrieked. “What did you say?”

“I just told Aunt Wilhelmina that she deserves a throne for her kindness and a new carriage.”

“You have your nerve, young man.”

“Yes, I finally appear to, don’t I?” He gave her a slight bow, then turned away to Trevor. “Trevor, you mincing dandified sod, doubtless the Duchess and I will see you in London. How long do you intend to remain in England?”

“James wants to visit all the flesh pots, every gambling hall, every den of iniquity.”

“Our capital is rich in sin,” North said. “Thus it should take you a good ten years, then.”

“James is very young. He’s fast. I’ll wager he has his fill in three months. Possibly less time were you to come to London and be, er, our guide. What do you say, North? Marcus?”

“Now, brother, don’t rush me,” James said, throwing up his hands. “A man must come of age knowing every vice in existence so that he may be a wise father to his sons.”

“Goodness, you gentlemen are quite depraved,” the Duchess said. “I don’t know if I should allow Marcus to join you. Besides, my husband doesn’t know anything at all of such places, do you, my lord?”

“Nary a thing,” Marcus said cheerfully. “Not a blessed whit of a thing. Consider me a devout and pious Methodist when I enter the evil climes of London.”

“You will write me often, Willie?”

“Certainly, Gweneth. Oh, how I dislike leaving the Wyndham legacy to him and to her. It’s the American Wyndham legacy.”

“Despite all the remarkable clues we found, ma’am,” Marcus said easily, “I’m still not convinced there’s anything to be discovered. This Janus-faced nine business with the lurking monster, surely it is a monk’s ravings, nothing more. It’s fancy, whimsy.”

“I agree,” Trevor said. He shook Marcus’s hand, looked down at the Duchess, then lightly kissed her forehead, and stepped back. “Now, we’re off. Marcus, take good care of your beautiful wife. North, I hope to see you again. If you come to London, Marcus has our direction. We’ll all repair to those infamous flesh pots together. You’re not a Methodist, I hope?” He kissed each of the Twins and Aunt Gweneth, then turned to wave good-bye to Sampson, Badger, Spears, and Maggie.

“You’ve got quite a collection of interesting specimens here at Chase Park,” James said, waving now himself. “Maggie is quite the most unusual lady’s maid I’ve ever encountered. She actually patted my rear end, Marcus.”

“I trust you gave as good as you got,” Marcus said, and assisted Aunt Wilhelmina into the carriage.

“I tried,” James said, “but she just smiled at me and told me to come see her again when I’d ripened.”

They watched the carriage roll down the long wide drive of Chase Park. They waved when Ursula stuck her head out the window and shouted another good-bye.

“How dispiriting it is when such loving guests take their leave,” Aunt Gweneth said. “We’ll be quite low now.”

“It was Trevor’s decision,” Marcus said. “I swear, Aunt Gweneth, I didn’t order dear Wilhelmina to leave, despite her strange proclivities and her quite malicious tongue.”

“Still,” Aunt Gweneth said, sighed, and walked with her shoulders drooped back into the house.

Maggie sniffed loudly when she was close enough for the Duchess to hear her. “That old besom is a horror. I don’t trust her an inch, Duchess. I’m certain she was the one who pushed you down the stairs and struck your poor head in the library.”