He didn’t. Instead, he again pulled out the crumpled bit of paper, smoothed it, and said, “They told me you was Mr. Melrose Plant.”

“I am. You’re familiar with titles, I assume?”

“Yeah. That’s what you got?” He surveyed the marble foyer. “Nice place. Kind of—ostentatious—that the word?”

“I hope not. It’s a word, yes. I bet you like big ones.” Melrose gestured toward the living room. “Come on in and have some tea.”

“Good idea. I could use a cuppa.” He looked almost happy before he hid it.

Taking his usual wing chair, Melrose indicated the chair on the other side of the fireplace, and Gerrard sat down, giving the living room another sweep of his eyes.

“That’s some Christmas tree you got there.”

“Pretty ostentatious, isn’t it?” For indeed it was. The sumptuously decorated tree—over-decorated, Melrose thought—had come from a tree farm just outside of Sidbury. Martha, Ruthven and Pippen had set to work with heirloom crystal balls and figurines; tiny china animals by Herend, Wedgwood and Spode. It would have given Claridge’s tree a run for its money, and “money” was what it screamed.

“Nah. It’s a Christmas tree. Supposed to be fancy, ain’t it? And look at all them fancy presents!” Gerrard let out a soft whistle.

Melrose looked. Most of them had been wrapped by Pippen, who, Melrose was surprised to hear (since Pippen, their new maid, didn’t look old enough to have worked anywhere, including here) had held a job in the gift-wrapping department at Harrods. “Quite a stack, I’ll admit.”

“A lot of money’s wrapped up in that lot.”

“Right. Incidentally, what’s your family name? If your first name’s Gerrard.”

“Gerrard,” he said.

“What? Both names? Gerrard Gerrard?”

“That’s it.”

“Couldn’t your mother have found another first name for you?”

“Too lazy, I expect. We’re a lazy lot.”

Melrose shook his head. “Not according to the FamilyHire agency. They said you’re diligent and hardworking.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“And they also said you’re stubborn, self-centered, arrogant, and demanding.” Melrose smiled. “And clever.”

“Sounds about right, except for the clever bit.”

“And you’ve got a sense of humor. They didn’t tell me that.”

“Didn’t know, it’s my guess. But if I’m stubborn and all that other stuff, why’d you want me?”

“Because I need those excellent qualities to deal with someone else who has them. She’s my aunt.”

“Yeah. I got one of them, too.”

Just then, Ruthven arrived with the heavily-laden tea tray, and Gerrard sat up, arrow-straight.

“Ruthven, this is Gerrard. I told you he’d be staying with us—for how long—?”

“Booked me for two weeks. I could do longer, o’ course.” He was studying the tea tray when he added that.

To Ruthven, Melrose said, “Perhaps you could show him to his room after tea.”