Free Gunpowder Plot by Carola Dunn Page B

everyone has what they need.” She seized a plate, piled it indiscriminately with food, and disappeared into the drawing room.
    “Next year, Babs is jolly well going to have to play hostess in chief,” Gwen muttered. “Mother’s not strong enough.”
    “Mother, you look ill,” Jack said. “Come and sit down.” Leaning on his arm, she let him support her to a chair by the wall. She sat down and her colour improved a little.
    Adelaide followed them, complaining. “Jack accused Reggie and Adrian of stealing fireworks. They’re all always accusing my boys of things they haven’t done.”
    Jack opened his mouth to retort, then closed it, biting his lip.
    Lady Tyndall shook her head sadly. “No, Addie, I’m afraid in every case I’m conversant with, the boys have been the culprits.”
    “You always take Jack’s side. It’s not fair! I’m going to tell Father.
    He’ll make you stop maligning them.”
    “I’ll tell him myself,” said Jack, striding to the door to the drawing room. “It’s past time he stopped believing the brats are angels.”
    Adelaide ran after him. Lady Tyndall leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed.
    “Excuse me,” Gwen said to Daisy, Miller, and Gooch. “I must go to her. Please help yourselves; we can’t have guests going hungry. I’m so sorry, Mr. Gooch, that you’ve landed in the middle of a family squabble.” She went to sit beside her mother, holding her hand and talking to her in a low voice.
    Miller looked helplessly at Daisy. “I’m out of my depth,” he confessed. “What’s the proper thing to do?”
    “Pretend we haven’t noticed anything amiss. Take a plateful as quickly as possible and leave. Otherwise, Gwen will be worrying about us on top of the rest. Mr. Gooch, try some of this galantine. Partridge or pheasant, at a guess.”
    Gooch eyed the aspic-coated game with suspicion. “Where I come from, we don’t muck about with our tucker.”
    “Cold roast beef, sir?” Miller suggested. “Rolls and butter?”
    “Good-oh. Ta, mate. I hope my wife got hers.”
    “I’m sure Gwen or Babs found Mrs. Gooch something she’ll enjoy,” said Daisy. She and Miller searched the table for plain food for the Australian. “Here’s some beetroot salad. Is that too— er— mucked about for you?”
    “No, thanks. I’m not that hungry. I reckon I’d better go and look for the missus. She must be wondering where I got to.”
    He went through to the drawing room, passing Jack in the doorway. Jack came in, frowning.
    “I can’t find Father.”
    “Perhaps he’s in the billiard room,” said Gwen. “He was talking to someone earlier about the duelling pistols. They might have popped in there to take a look while waiting for the crowd at the table to clear.”
    “Why would he have closed the door?” Jack crossed the room and opened the connecting door. “No lights. No one here.”
    “Could he have gone up to his study?”
    “I suppose so. I’m not going to track him to his lair. I’ll tell him about the rockets later.”
    “Oh, do go up, Jack. He must not realize how time is passing. Mother can’t possibly do any more, and at least one of the parents ought to be visible after inviting half the county. Two counties.”
    “Right-oh.” Jack flicked the electric light switch on and disappeared.
    “Is this where we hop it?” Miller asked Daisy sotto voce.
    “Just a minute. Gwen, if you feel you ought to be out there with your guests, I’ll be happy to sit with your mother, or help her upstairs to her room. Would you like to go and lie down, Lady Tyndall?”
    A faint movement of her head could have been a nod or a shake.
    Her eyes were still closed.
    “I can easily carry your mother upstairs, Gwen,” Miller offered.
    “I don’t know,” Gwen said doubtfully. “Do you think she ought to see a doctor? Dr. Prentice is here.”
    Lady Tyndall roused herself to shaky speech. “No, no doctor. If Mr. Miller will kindly give me his arm, we shall go up