Sheer Folly by Carola Dunn Page A

share it with us?” Pritchard enquired with a grin.
    â€œCertainly not,” said Lucy, simultaneously with Julia’s, “Oh, we couldn’t possibly, I’m afraid.”
    â€œJust a bit of juvenile schoolgirlish nonsense,” Daisy explained. “Not at all funny to anyone else.”
    â€œWell, Lord Rydal, at least your obsession has given us all a bit of a laugh. If this isn’t enough fish for you, you’re welcome to mine, too. Winifred, you know I don’t like fish.” Ignoring her resentful look, he beckoned to his butler. “Barker, present this to Lord Rydal, with my compliments.”
    Rhino looked askance at such a brazen departure from ordinary etiquette, but to insult his host at his own table would be an even worse breach of decorum. He was apparently conversant with the rules of good manners, even if the guiding principles escaped him. Daisy noticed that he ate all four sardines.
    Dinner continued without further untoward events. Mrs. Howell managed to eat with her lips pursed. Daisy wondered whether she was contemplating revenge, perhaps in the form of offering her brother-in-law nothing but kippers and kedgeree for breakfast. Silent, she made no demands on Sir Desmond’s attention. He apparently forgave Daisy for being a journalist and entertained her with a smooth flow of small talk. He had an endless fund of anecdotes, no doubt very useful to a civil servant, and some of them were even quite amusing.
    At the end of the meal, Mrs. Howell was still lost in a brown study. She made no move to lead the ladies from the dining room. Daisy disliked the practice except insofar as it allowed her to escape cigar smoke—it was bad enough that Rhino had lighted a fresh cigarette after each course. She wondered whether the plumber’s household had abandoned the custom of the ladies’ withdrawal, or had never followed it. Then she realised that Lady Beaufort was staring at her with a slightly desperate fixed look. When her ladyship saw that she had Daisy’s attention, she nodded towards their hostess.
    Daisy leant forwards and said gently, “Mrs. Howell, shall we leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars?”
    She came to with a start and a shudder. “Cigars? Horrible things.” She stood up. “He
will
smoke them, though he knows I hate the smell.”
    Daisy didn’t believe it was the thought of cigars that had made her shudder.
    The host went to the door and politely held it as the ladies departed. Daisy hung back so she was last to reach him. “Would you mind awfully if I used your telephone, Mr. Pritchard?” she asked. “It’s a trunk call, I’m afraid, but of course I’ll reverse the charges.”
    â€œOf course you won’t, my dear. Make as many calls as you want.”
    â€œThanks, one will do! I promised my husband I’d ring to let him know I arrived safely.”
    â€œThat’s the ticket. But don’t hang about waiting for the connection. Barker can fetch you to the telephone when the call goes through. I’ll tell you what, how’s this for a notion? Why don’t you ask Mr. Fletcher to join us at the weekend? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. He’d be very welcome.”
    Daisy beamed at him. “That’s frightfully kind of you. I’m not sure whether he’s going to be free, but I’ll pass on the invitation.”
    â€œAnd . . . I don’t suppose . . . Do you think Lord Gerald might like to come down as well?”
    â€œI’ve no idea what his plans are, but I’ll tell Alec to ring him up and ask.”
    â€œBetter check with Lady Gerald first.”
    â€œShe won’t mind. If he comes, either she’ll be glad to see him, or she’ll be too busy taking photos to notice. We’re both so much looking forward to exploring the grotto tomorrow.”
    â€œNo need to wait if you’d like to take a look