“I used to host luncheons and picnics. Oh, how people would fall over themselves to be invited to one of my picnics.”
“I believe Lady Fortesque holds excellent luncheons,” Mrs. Grey said.
“I thought it was a picnic,” she replied, looking a little confused.
“No. It is a luncheon,” Oliver assured her.
“Will they have sandwiches?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I have no idea.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “If they don’t have sandwiches, I’m not going.”
“I’m sure they will have sandwiches, of some sort, Aunt Petunia.”
“Fine, but if there are no sandwiches I’m holding you responsible, my dear boy.” She turned to her companion. “Mrs. Grey, it appears we are going on a picnic.”
“Luncheon,” Oliver and Mrs. Grey said at the same time.
Aunt Petunia raised a gray brow. “No need to get disagreeable about it.”
This could be a very interesting day, Oliver thought.
“Is your Lady Blackbird going to be there?” Aunt Petunia asked when they had finally got underway. “I have read that she made a lovely study at the park yesterday. Not sure what it was that she was studying, especially at a park. Black birds I assume.”
Oliver sat forward. “It is Lady Blackhurst, and where did you read that?”
She looked at Oliver. “Blackhurst? Henry did not like her husband. Said he was despicable and someone should put him straight.”
Oliver felt the hairs on his neck stand up. His conversation with Dalmere at the Wainwright ball coming back to him. “Put him straight?” he asked his aunt. “Did he say anything else?”
“Well, let me see. It was some time ago, but I do remember he came in all agitated like he had on a badly starched shirt and it was bothering him. He was pacing up and down fit to wear out my rug. I told him to sit down or buy me a new rug.”
“And?”
“And?” His aunt raised her brow in some confusion.
“What else did he say about Blackhurst?” He was dreading the answer.
“Oh, yes, Henry. He said the man deserved some lead shot. I didn’t quite understand why he wanted to give him such a thing when Blackhurst was obviously rich enough to purchase his own.”
Mrs. Grey looked at Oliver and then at his aunt before saying, “I don’t think he meant it quite like that, my lady.”
She waved her hand as if dismissing Mrs. Grey’s announcement. “He wanted to run away with her and all. I told him not to be so ridiculous. One does not run off with another man’s wife even if the husband was a disgusting excuse for a human being, which is what Henry said he was. He was quite adamant he was going to save the… lady.”
“That would beLadyBlackhurst. I remember you telling me about Henry’s affections for her,” Oliver said, but he was feeling deflated and more than a little confused. Every indication suggested that Henry wanted to kill Blackhurst, had maybe even planned to do it. The question was, would his usually mild-mannered brother have actually pulled the trigger?
“If her name is Blackhurst why on earth is she called the Black Bird?”
“They call her the BlackRaven, Aunt. It is just a pet name thetonhas given her,” he explained, still his mind coming to terms with his aunt’s words. He knew she was not always with him in the present but her long-term memory seemed to be very much intact.
“Eh? She has a pet raven. Well, I don’t think that is an appropriate pet for a young lady. She should get a dog.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, Aunt.”
And so the questions went on until his aunt fell asleep about five minutes later. He was thankful for the silence. He loved his aunt dearly, but he was beginning to think bringing her to the luncheon was a bad idea. What if she brought up Henry and his feelings for Lisbeth while talking to her? What if she brought up Blackhurst? How would Lisbeth react? He would make sure that Mrs. Grey paid close attention when he was not there and made sure to distract his aunt if she brought up Blackhurst or Henry.
They made their way slowly to a light airy room at the back of Lady Fortesque’s house. Again he was awestruck by the amazing fresco on the ceiling of the main hall, but again, time and duty prevented him from being able to truly appreciate it. French doors opened wide, inviting one to wander in the extensive garden beyond. A few couples were taking advantage of the opportunity to explore while a little sun poked through the ever-present clouds.
