Page 28 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

She showed him where she had mended a tear in the old silk, and restitched the embroidered peacock whose body had been separated from his tail by the injury.

‘That’s very fine work,’ he said. ‘You are an artist.’

‘Oh, no, sir,’ she demurred automatically.

‘What’s your name?’ he demanded.

‘Dory, sir.’

‘Well, Dory, as one artist to another, I advise you to accept a compliment when it’s offered. As long as it’s just, and not empty flattery. Your stitchery is wonderfully fine. This peacock says you are an artist – and so do I.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. When he smiled, you could see he must have been handsome when he was young. ‘I liked your playing, too.’

‘Then stay and listen,’ he said, sitting down at the piano again.

‘Oh, no, sir, I must get on. Mrs Webster—’

‘I understand. Off you go. But you’re welcome to come and listen to me any time.’ His smile became a boyish grin. ‘I love an audience.’

Since his mother had gone away, Giles had been having a tray in the library instead of going down to dinner, so that he could keep working, and since the girls took their meals in the schoolroom unless summoned to dinner, Uncle Sebastian had been fed at the small table in the morning-room. It suited Mrs Webster not to have formal dinner to arrange, meaning she could divert the servants’ energies elsewhere. She was as surprised to get orders from Mr Sebastian as Giles, Rachel and Alice were to receive hand-written invitations to dinner in the dining-room, with ‘Dress: formal’ at the bottom.

Sebastian was waiting to receive them, his hair sleeked back for once, his coat brushed, his face wreathed in genial smiles.

‘Interesting,’ Giles said, as his hand was formally shaken. ‘To be invited to dine in my own house.’

‘I despaired of getting you to a civilised table any other way,’ said Sebastian. ‘Sherry?’

Rachel and Alice arrived a little late, flustered, but excited. ‘Is it a game?’ Alice asked.

‘Just dinner,’ said Sebastian.

‘It’s so late,’ Alice gloated.

‘We weren’t sure what to wear,’ Rachel apologised. ‘We don’t have dinner gowns.’

‘Daisy said our velvets would be all right,’ said Alice. ‘They’re our best.’

But Rachel was anxious. ‘Only Alice’s is brown, not black.’

‘Mesdemoiselles, you look charmingly,’ said Sebastian, and bowed over their hands in turn. ‘May I offer you a glass of orgeat?’

‘What’s that?’ Alice cried.

‘You’ll love it,’ Sebastian promised.

Giles looked at his little sisters in their frocks and hair ribbons, saw their eyes shine with pleasure, and felt guilty. Eating on a tray suited him, and he preferred solitude, but he realised uncomfortably that their entire lives consisted of solitude, and the chance to put on the best frock and eat at a different table was a welcome break in the monotony.

He turned to Sebastian. ‘I am properly rebuked,’ he said. ‘I have been thoughtless.’

Sebastian smiled kindly. ‘No-one is rebuking anyone. We all need a little company from time to time – even you! And I haven’t entertained in years. High time I did.’

It was a successful evening. Sebastian was charming, drawing the girls out so that they chattered and laughed. Dinner was slightly better than usual, thanks to Sebastian’s having given very detailed instructions – and was certainly better than the nursery fare the girls usually faced.

And after dinner, in the drawing-room (he decreed no dividing), Sebastian organised some games, and concluded by going to the piano and playing some sweet, sentimental tunes that the girls could sing to.

At last he rose, clapped his hands, and said, ‘Off to bed with you now, chickies!’

Alice gave him a grave look. ‘We’re not chickies. Rachel will be seventeen next year.’