QUOTE : You’ll be seeing him tomorrow night, anyway.”<br /><br />“I am?” Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, “She will?”<br /><br />“You’re accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading,” Lady D told her grandson. “Or have you forgotten?”<br /><br />Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair’s mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.<br /><br />“I really…” he said. “That is to say, I can’t—”<br /><br />“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said. “You promised.”<br /><br />He regarded her with a stern expression. “I cannot imagine—”<br /><br />“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and if you love me…”<br /><br />Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.<br /><br />“When I die,” he said, “surely my epitaph will read, ‘He loved his grandmother when no one else would.’”<br /><br />“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked.