Charlotte did not expect one. It seemed that Barclay Hamilton had so violently resented her marrying his father that even after all these years he had not forgiven her. Perhaps it was a form of jealousy, perhaps a devotion to his mother which would not permit him to let anyone take her place. Poor Amethyst; the ghost of the first Lady Hamilton must have stalked her all her married life. At that moment Charlotte conceived a fierce dislike of Barclay Hamilton, in spite of all she saw in his face that she might otherwise have found peculiarly pleasing.
She was about to help herself to another cake when the parlormaid returned and announced Sir Garnet Royce. He followed her so closely it was impossible for Amethyst to deny that she would see him, and from the calm certainty in his eyes he apparently took it for granted that he was wel-
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come. His brows rose when he saw Charlotte, but it did not disconcert him.
'Good afternoon, Amethyst; good afternoon!'
'Miss Charlotte Ellison,' Amethyst supplied. 'She has been good enough to come in person to express her sympathy:'
'Most kind.' Garnet nodded briefly. 'Most kind.' He had acquitted courtesy, and he ignored her now as he would have a butler or a governess. 'Now Amethyst, I have completed the arrangements for a memorial service. I made a list of people it would be suitable to invite, and those who would be offended if they were not included. You can read it, of course, but I am sure you will agree.' He did not make any move to pull it out of his pocket. 'And I have chosen an order of prayer, and several hymns. I asked Canon Burridge if he would conduct. I am sure he is the most appropriate.'
'Is there anything left for me to do?' There was a slight edge to her voice, but not enough to be exceptional in the circumstances. Charlotte would have resented anyone else's taking charge so completely, but perhaps she had become too independent since her marriage and her slide down the social scale. Garnet Royce was doing what he believed best for his sister-his face reflected decisive, practical goodwill-and Amethyst raised no objection, although for an instant a frown flickered across her brow, and she drew breath as if to say something contrary but changed her mind.
'Thank you,' she said instead.
Garnet went to the table where Barclay Hamilton had left the papers he had delivered. 'What are these?' He picked them up and turned them over. 'Property deeds?'
' 'Barclay brought them,'' Amethyst explained, and again the shadow of anger and pain crossed her face.
' 'I '11 look at them for you.'' Garnet made as if to put them in his pocket.
'I should be obliged if you would leave them where they 164
are!' Amethyst snapped. 'I am perfectly able to look at them myself!'
Garnet smiled briefly.' 'My dear, you don't know anything about them.''
'Then I shall learn. It would seem an appropriate time,' she retorted.
'Nonsense!' he said, good-natured but totally dismissive. 'You don't want to be bothered with the details and administration of the estate, and with learning new terms. Law is very difficult and complex for a woman, my dear. Allow your man of affairs to ascertain that everything is in order, as I am sure it is-Lockwood was meticulous about such things-and I will explain to you what it means, what you have, and advise you what steps to takie, if any. I doubt there will be much to alter. You should have a holiday, get away from this tragedy, calm your mind and your spirits. It will be good for you in all ways. Believe me, my dear, I still remember my own bereavement clearly enough.' His face became shadowed with a memory he did not share except by implication, and Amethyst offered no sympathy. The loss must have been old, or crowded out by her own so current wound.
'Spend a few weeks in Aldeburgh.' He looked at her, his distress replaced by solicitude again. 'Walk by the sea, take the fresh air, visit with pleasant people and talk of country ways. Get away from London until all this business is over.''
She turned away from him and looked out of the small space hi the window that was clear beneath the blinds.
'I don't think I wish to.'
'Be advised, my
