“I am glad to hear it,” said I. “Now, Cousin, we need to speak regarding Parian’s wages.” Archibald’s lips formed the habitual sneer, but I steeled my expression. “If he is to remain here, his wages must be reduced so Agnes can be paid for all the work she does.” “Parian is an invaluable asset to Lapis Lazuli House!” Unfortunately, Parian chose that auspicious moment to enter the drawing room with a half-eaten custard tart—custard dribbling down his chin—and an opened bottle of wine. Upon seeing us, his eyes widened. The retreat was swift.
