Free Cavalier Case by Antonia Fraser

looked just like Cy himself, an impressive public figure, Jo you know, except for the complexion, Sir Bartleby's complexion and tor that matter his nose being very red. Cy's nose and complexion are not red. They are distinctly pale given his aversion to good country air. But it you imagine our dear Cy in armour, with a broad yellow sash—"
    It was an agreeable picture. But the general message received by Jemima was that Lady Manfred's ghost, being "an impressive public figure" of a ghost, looking like a bottlenosed Cy Fredericks rather than a romantic soulful vision, could now be safely down-peddled so long as his earthly role was properly acknowledged.
    Only Zena, irritated no doubt by Lady Manfred's defection, tried to drop a little vinegar into it all. "I've never much believed in that Potter ghost," she murmured to Jemima in her turn. "It was probably just Lord Manfred coming home unexpectedly. After all, Sir Bartleby Potter himself only got hold of Taynford a couple of years earlier. Before that it belonged to a heavily Royalist family." 
    So much for Cy's second bold assertion of the family owning Taynford Grange since "Charlemagne" thought Jemima.
    But Jane Manfred elected not to hear Zena. She helped herself to an enormous second plateful of summer pudding and double cream as she spoke, which recklessness, given her by no means sparse figure, endeared her to Jemima.
    "We will discuss it tomorrow. At the Planty. After our game. Have you forgotten? We're playing a doubles at some unearthly hour tomorrow morning. Dan, you're going to do all my running for me. Before discussing my investment in the country tennis club. You, me and that woman who runs the Planty, Alix, what's her name."
    "Oh yes, Charlotte," began Dan hurriedly. "It is true that I'll have to go up later tonight—"
    "I wonder if on the subject of the Cavalier Celebration and the characters involved, the cool voice of television could be heard— Jemima spoke politely but firmly; Megalith Television must not be ignored altogether in favour of plans for the new country club.
    "Of course it can!" cried Dan. He beamed at her. "I've had a brillaint idea. Why don't you play tennis with us tomorrow morning? Alix is longing for you to test out the Planty. And then we can all talk ahout this television thing."
    In all this Nell's anguished cry - "But Daddy, you promised me" - passed unregarded by Dan, if not unnoticed by Jemima. For the rest of her visit, however, Jemima found Dan to be in an ebullient mood which seemed to be connected to his projected escape from Lackland Court later in the day (or night in fact - "when the traffic dies down"). Even her tentative suggestion of a further quick "chat" to Haygarth about the history of the place was perfectly well received. Jemima, in the general atmosphere of bonhomie , seized the moment to mention it.
    "Anytime after tomorrow!" responded Dan jovially. "He finally retires tomorrow morning. This lunch was his swansong. Then there'll be all the time in the world for the old boy to take you down memory lane. I fear he's suddenly turned pretty depressed about leaving so it will be a pleasure to him. One warning: don't let him get on to Cousin Tommy's war record."
    "And the ghost.?" Jemima decided to press her luck since the sharpness with which Dan had dismissed Jemima's appeal to talk to Haygarth on her last visit was noticeably absent.
    "Ah, the ghost!" There was a pause. Dan drummed his fingers on the table, a habit he had, Jemima noticed, only when in the presence of his family. "Of course. That's your subject. As the tennis club is mine, I doubt if Decimus will come a-haunting the players. Ghosts outlive their usefulness like everyone else." He was interrupted by a cry from the nursery end of the table. It was Nell once more.
    "Oh Daddy, can I go up on the battlements after lunch? Please, Uaddy, will you take me up? You promised."
    This time she did get her father's attention. Dan's face cleared; it was as