“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.”

Edwina looked up from her oyster bisque. “It is his house now, Irene. He may use it or not use it as he chooses and there is nothing you or I can do about it.”

“Of course you may always stay there overnight if you go up to town to a show or to visit friends, Mama,” Cedric said. “But that is very different from Irene wanting to set up home there with her brood. Where does she intend to find servants to run it properly? She has no money to pay them, and I certainly don’t want her to take any of our servants. Nor do I want to pay for servants for Irene. It’s not my fault that she made a bad decision in her choice of a husband. I warned her that foreigners are always trouble and can’t be trusted.”

“I object to that remark, young man,” Princess Charlotte said. “Prince Orlovski and I were extremely happy and well-suited.”

“Until he was murdered by peasants and you barely escaped with your life,” Cedric said. “And Aunt Virginia’s husbands all died under mysterious circumstances. Doesn’t that prove that foreigners cannot be trusted?”