Chapter 41

She was still livid about it when Jeremy and I came round for dinner a few nights later. “Abominable child! Your father and I would never have permitted a child of ours to behave in such a manner!”

“But St John is little more than a baby, Lady Glynnis.”

“Nevertheless, Jeremy, James never behaved in such a careless manner at that age, and neither did Pamela. As a viscount’s son, the boy should know better.”

“But—”

“I fail to see why I should make any allowances for the boy.” She frowned, first at Jeremy, then at me.

“Perhaps a change of subject is in order,” Father murmured, and signalled Wilson to refill our wine glasses. “Tell me, James. What did you think of Macmillan’s ‘Wind of Change’ speech?”

“Beyond the fact that it was the same one he gave in Accra in January?”

Father scowled fiercely at me, but there was a hint of amusement in his gaze, and the conversation was turned.