“Acroft in the croft?”

“Perhaps. In any case, he was discharged from my grandfather’s service. I heard he married the lass, and they had seven children in seven years.”

“No Bavarian castle for her, then. Just as well, given how things went in Bavaria after that.”

“Who was your crush at thirteen?”

“Oh, I was a good girl at thirteen.”

“No, you were not.”

“No, I was not,” agreed Iris. “And curse you for seeing through me so easily. His name was Trevor. He was also thirteen—none of your older-stable-boy ambitions for me. We were in school together. He had a keen interest in the sciences, and we often went after school to the Natural History Museum.”

“Ah, I know it well. I’ve chased after my son there on many occasions. Did you hold hands under Dippy? Kiss amidst the creepy crawlies?”

“No, but we discussed beetles at length.”

“A solid basis for romance.”

“We were the smart ones in the class. He was the only boy who treated me as an equal, so naturally I responded. I was frequently left on my own at that stage of my life. Mummy was off pamphleting and organising clinics, Daddy was doing whatever Daddy did, which was unclear after the Crash—I suspect it involved drinking at whatever club was still willing to extend him credit—so I was frequently on my own. No nanny at that point—the household staff was down to the cook and one overworked maid, so when Trevor and I came home from the museum one day, there was no one else around.”

“Aha!”

“It was purely for scientific research,” said Iris blandly. “We wanted to see what the human body looked like. We were very solemn and serious about it, and sat across from each other on the rug in my room without touching. Then we put our clothes back on and played backgammon in the drawing room. So, it was a much more prosaic experience than yours.”

“Prosaic!” exclaimed Gwen. “You saw a naked man at thirteen!”

“A naked boy.”

“I didn’t see a live naked man until after I was married!”

“Did your husband know about him?”

“I shall throttle you. I was referring to my husband, of course.”

“Didn’t you tell me you took some art class with life models when you were younger?”

“They were draped, you ninny. Whatever happened to Trevor?”

“I ran into him earlier this year. He talked about beetles. He continues to study them.”

“Not as interesting when you’re an adult, I suppose.”

“Well, he was off to the Amazon to find some new ones, so not quite as dull as all that. I felt the old stirrings, to tell you the truth. There was a moment where we looked at each other and I knew that he remembered that afternoon without saying anything about it. He smiled, and I blushed, can you believe it? I actually blushed. But I was otherwise involved at the time, so that was the end of it. I didn’t become a naturalist, and I don’t think I would have been happy tramping through the heart of darkness unless there was at least one good club within walking distance.”