“I thought we were about to go out hunting foxes,” Jack said. “And I’ve seen all kinds of weapons and animal heads on the walls.”

“That is quite different. Those things are acceptable violence. The English nobility has always hunted and served in honorable battles.”

“Georgie said I should try to get along with my cousins, so that’s what I was trying to do.” Jack shrugged.

“In the future, John, please ask me or even Georgiana if a particular pursuit is acceptable before undertaking it,” Edwina said.

“I do wish you’d stop calling me John,” Jack said. “That’s never been my name, and I keep thinking you expect me to be my father and not me.”

Edwina drew herself up in her seat and took a deep breath before answering. Maybe she realized that what he was saying was true. She wanted him to be her John, returned from the grave. “It’s just that John is a more suitable name for a viscount,” she said. “And one has never heard of a duke called Jack. And I expect you to call me Grandmama.”

“Right-oh,” he said.

I felt for her at that moment. She was going through the same exasperation I often felt in my attempts to educate Queenie. I was glad when tea was cleared away and we walked back into the house. I decided to find something to read in the library. As I passed Cedric’s study, I heard raised voices and suddenly a door opened and Irene stormed out, her face bright red.

“That man is impossible,” she said to nobody in particular as she disappeared down the hallway in front of me. “A nasty, spiteful miser. He’ll get his just deserts someday.”

I found a book and retreated to my room, where I read peacefully until it was time to dress for dinner. There was a full complement of guests at the dinner table, but talk was at a minimum until Cedric said, “I understand there was a bit of a ruckus this afternoon. Something about young Jack throwing knives at people?”

“John was merely demonstrating his prowess with a knife,” Edwina said before anyone else could answer, “and I must say it was most impressive.”

“Most impressive?” Irene demanded. “He missed my daughter’s head by inches.”

“Too bad,” Cedric muttered loudly enough for the Starlings to grin.

“Anyway, the incident will not be repeated,” Edwina said. “I have told John that his knife will be kept in the tack room and not brought out without my permission in future. Since there are no brigands in the neighborhood and our food comes to us on a plate, he will actually have no need of it here. So you may stop fretting, Irene. The matter is forgotten.”

We went back to our soup until Irene blurted out, “Mama, I have to tell you that Cedric has refused to let me take the children to stay at the London house. He is not using it. He always stays at his club. It’s just sitting there, and it is the height of spite and selfishness not to allow my family to use it.”