THE MAD AND THE MADDER“Gentleman,” said Grace, standing. “Might I suggest a snack. It would do none of us any good to keel over dead before a plan was formulated.”
“Good idea,” said Fothergill, then grimaced.
“It’s all right,” said his superior. “I’m not sure there’s much in the cupboards, Miss Grace. I don’t eat much these days. When one crests sixty-ish, one loses one’s appetite.”
“But not for life.”
“Oh, never that, Miss Grace,” grinned Lord Cuthbert.
“I shall be mere moments.”
With that, Grace departed the living room in a blur of yellow and left the men to their own devices.
Lord Cuthbert waited for her footsteps to echo away before turning to Headlock. “How has she taken the news?”
“Her father?”
“Yes. It cannot be easy to lose one’s father once, only to find him then lose hi
