Page 10 of Mr Winterbourne's Christmas

“My dear, do fetch your brother some tea. He’s come all the way from Buckinghamshire and he must be simplyparched.”

Althea met Lysander’s gaze and gave him wry grin. Their mother’s laziness was a long-running source of amusement between them. “Yes Mama,” she said dutifully and moved towards the tea tray

Lysander glanced about the room. “Where’s Father?”

His mother wrinkled her pretty nose. “Still in town,” she said, the faintest hint of irritation in her tone. “He insisted on staying for some absurd dinner at his club, which means he won’t get here till tomorrow. I’m very cross with him—he sent out several personal invitations, and now he’s not here to greet our guests. It’s too mortifying!”

Lysander automatically responded with a soothing murmur and gazed around the room, taking in the other guests whilst his mother prattled on about his father’s rudeness. His parents’ particular friends, Mr. and Mrs. Griffiths and Major and Mrs. Gould, were talking together animatedly. And sitting by the fireside was his eccentric great-aunt Maud with her companion, Anne Greenhill, a playmate of the Winterbourne children from years ago who had fallen on hard times after her father’s death.

As his gaze tracked across the room, a new and very welcome arrival entered the room—his oldest friend, Lord Perry Cavendish.

“Perry!” he called, rising from the chaise longue. “I had no idea you were coming!”

“Zander!” Perry crossed the room, grabbing Lysander’s hand and shaking it with his usual energy. “Arrived yesterday. Told your mama not to let on to you I was coming. Are you surprised?”

“Astonished!” Lysander laughed. “And pleased, of course.”

“Bella’s with me,” Perry said, adding in a lower tone. “Watch out, she’s husband hunting.”

Lysander grinned. Perry’s sister had been searching for a husband the last time he’d seen her.

“Oh, I think she’s probably immune to me. Last time we met she made it very clear she wanted someone with rather deeper pockets than mine.”

In fact, Lysander remembered, Arabella Cavendish had been rather taken with Adam on that occasion, though Adam hadn’t particularly noticed her.

Perry shook his head. “She’s a minx. M’mother says I’ve to keep a beady eye on her.” He tapped under his left eye to stress the point.

Lysander grinned. “Isn’t that her job?”

“Poor woman’s exhausted,” Perry said. “You know how Bella is. She’s already broken off one engagement!”

“Hallo, there—I come bearing tea.”

They both turned at this new voice. It was Althea holding out a dainty cup and saucer to Lysander who leaned forward to take the tea and quickly kiss her cheek.

“Where’s that husband of yours?” he asked.

“Writing letters,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Adding, as though, it explained everything, “Politicians!”

Simon had become a Member of Parliament a few months before—the Winterbourne family name having oiled the wheels of his selection as a candidate.

Althea turned to Perry and said brightly, “Peregrine, dear, may I get you some tea?”

“No chance of a proper drink, I suppose? Brandy, say?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Althea said promptly. She’d known Perry since he was a baby and did not stand on ceremony with him. “It’s tea or you can go thirsty. One lump or two?”

“Two,” Perry said glumly. As she walked away, he added, “Your sister’s a harsh woman. Your mama would have let me have brandy.”

“You drink too much brandy,” Lysander said without heat. “Tea will do you good.”

“Probably,” Perry agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced. “So, how’s this working man thing going? Strikes me as a rum old business, Zander. Tiring, is it?”

Lysander chuckled and began to tell him about his daily life at Edgeley Park—albeit leaving out some of the more interesting details involving Adam.

“Is Freeman here?” Perry asked after a few minutes, quite as though he’d read Lysander’s mind. “Your mama said he was invited.”

“Yes,” Lysander said. “He should be down shortly.”