That ended all other conversation.
“Aunt Dolores,” the duke admonished.
“Don’t ‘Aunt Dolores’ me. She must know it was a mistake. A passing impulse. If my brother had not met an untimely demise, he would have fixed it soon enough.”
“You don’t know that,” Chase said. “Nor does it signify, because that was the will when he passed. It has been a year now. You really must accept that.”
“I won’t. It is too unfair. Perverse. He had family to take care of. Instead this—this farmer’s daughter hat maker inherits an obscene amount of money for someone of her station.”
“That is enough,” the duke said.
“Yes, quite enough,” Walter echoed. “This is not the time or place.”
“It isn’t enough and there is no better time and place,” Dolores said. “If she had any decency at all she would turn it back to the estate, or at least most of it. She has to know he never really intended her to have it all. If someone hadn’t killed him—”
“Nicholas and Walter said enough and now I say it too. Must we all say it? You have forgotten yourself.” Kevin spoke sharply, and loud enough to silence Dolores. “Aunt Agnes—”
“Yes,” Lady Agnes said. “Dolores, you are not feeling well. I’m sure you would like some time alone.”
“Oh, tosh. I didn’t say anything the rest of you weren’t thinking.” Dolores stood and, with one last glare at Rosamund, strode from the dining room.
For a five count, everyone just looked at their plates. Then Kevin asked the duke about some horse he had seen race, and Minerva asked Douglas’s wife about some party she had attended, and conversation resumed.
“My apologies,” the duke murmured beside her.
“Not at all. I had no idea that the ton had such interesting dinners.”
In truth, Rosamund was relieved to have the talk move around her instead of right at her. It had been an astonishing five minutes. She hoped she never saw the likes of it again. However, if one of them was that angry, maybe all of them were. Even Kevin.
She couldn’t blame Dolores for being bitter, although she thought sisters of dukes did not act so rudely at dinner parties. Probably they didn’t. Normally, at least. The difference was that this woman did not consider the target of her rudeness worthy of anything else. She could insult thefarmer’s daughter hat maker, just as she could scold a servant, to her mind. Politeness was reserved for polite society.
Still, it was useful to know the bad feelings about the legacy. She would keep that in mind in her future dealings with this family, along with the amazing bluntness with which Dolores had said the same thing as Felicity had in the park—That the last duke had been killed.
Not a single relative, not one, had disagreed with her.
* * *
Port was passed. Kevin poured himself a goodly amount. Sipping it kept him from succumbing to the urge to go upstairs, find Aunt Dolores, and—he wasn’t sure what. He couldn’t thrash her, which was what he felt like doing.
And the family claimedhewas rude.
“That was quite a dinner,” Philip said, throwing himself into his chair after finding a cigar. “To think I almost declined the invitation.”
“It was beyond the pale,” Walter said. “However . . .” He just let that hang in the air.
“Are you making excuses for her?” Kevin asked. He couldn’t thrash Aunt Dolores, but Walter would do.
“Not at all. Her behavior was embarrassing, and an insult to Agnes and the rest of us. Yet it was understandable as well. Since that peculiar legacy affected you even more than the rest of us, I’m sure you will agree.”
“Did she really expect Miss Jameson to say,you are right, I shouldn’t have it, Please, let me give it back so you can split it up?” Nicholas said.
“I rather wish it had happened that way,” Philip muttered.
“She would be an idiot to do that. Or a saint,” Chase said. “Perhaps if she were weak, she might have been cowed by Dolores. Miss Jameson, however, didn’t even flinch.”
“No,” Nicholas said. “Damned impressive.”
Shehadbeen impressive. Kevin had felt obligated to protect her, but he doubted she needed his effort, or even that of Nicholas. He got the impression that if Dolores had continued much longer, Miss Jameson would have ceased her silence and given far better than she got, much as she had held her own with his father.
