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“You’re acco,” Lady D told her grandson “Or have you forgotten?”

Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St Clair’sin obvious distress He looked a bit like a fish, she decided A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish

“I really…” he said “That is to say, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said “You promised”

He regarded her with a stern expression “I cannot iine—”

“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and ifyou love me…”

Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr St Clair shot a dirty look in her direction

“When I die,” he said, “surely randmother when no one else would’”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked

“I’ll be there,” he sighed

“Bring wool for your ears,” Hyacinth advised

He looked aghast “It cannot possibly be worse than last night’s musicale”

Hyacinth couldn’t quite keep one corner of herup “Lady Pleinsworth used to be a Smythe-Smith”

Across the roolee

“I had best be getting ho to her feet “I shall try to translate the first entry before I see you to, Mr St Clair”