by Cheryl Holt
“I have a question for you,” he said. “Or perhaps it’s a warning.”
“What is it?”
“Barbara, my brother’s widow, always serves an ostentatious supper. The pomp she displays can be embarrassing.”
“And…?”
“I told her you might join her, but I’m not certain you should. She’s the biggest snob ever, and I don’t believe you’d like her. She’d probably be very rude to you too. If you’d rather, you can skip the dining room and have a tray in your bedchamber, but I’ll leave it up to you.”
“Lord Benton, you’ve denigrated your sister-in-law on several occasions, but you shouldn’t be so frank with me.”
“Why not? If I share a secret, it’s not as if you’ll run out and sell it to the newspapers.”
“No, I never would, but you hardly know me. I can’t bear to hear that you don’t like your relatives. It makes me sad, and if you have such a need to reveal your dislike, I wish you’d find someone who is a more appropriate confidante.”
“There’s no one else here, Miss Bates, and you’re a good listener.”
“You’re correct. I am.”
“You’ll have to put up with me while I vent my petty objections.”
“Why don’t you like her?” she asked.
“I won’t list the reasons, but you’ll likely meet her before you depart. You’ll see what I mean. What did you think of her brother, Mr. Slater?”
“He was… cool and detached.”
He grinned. “You don’t have to be so polite. What did you really think?”
“He was cool and detached,” she repeated, her tone scolding. “Don’t pester me about him. You’ll never goad me into a disparaging comment.”
“Are you always this kind?”
“I try to be.”
“How admirable. As to myself, I generally try to be brutally candid.”
“Then candor might be your ruin someday. It’s frequently unwise to speak what’s on your mind.”
“Maybe, but it shortens the path through any discord. I like to cut to the heart of a matter. I don’t beat around the bush.”
“How is that tactic working for you?”
“Not very well. Barbara and her brother don’t like me anymore than I like them.”
“Why is that? Have you been horrid to them?”
“No, it’s because I had the gall to inherit. They’ve been managing on their own, and I’ve barged in and seized control. They view me as an interloper.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, definitely.”
The admission had her laughing, and he smiled, liking the sound of her voice.
His world was one of ships and men and lengthy voyages away from England. When he spent time with females, it was with crude doxies in port towns, so he enjoyed being home and flirting with beautiful women who understood English and all the customs he took for granted.
He was astonished that he’d divulged so much to her. Yes, he trusted her and she’d never blab his secrets, but he wasn’t talkative. It was so odd for him to babble on, but when he was in her presence, he was disconcerted as a green boy with his first girl.
Evidently, he was desperate to impress her, and he couldn’t shut up.
He yearned to tarry with her all evening, yearned to chat and loaf and learn every detail there was to know about her, so his fascination had reached an absurd level. He couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps the dreary weeks at Benton were driving him insane.
“I never expected to inherit Benton,” he confessed, “and Barbara and Richard weren’t expecting I would either.”
“It can’t have been that much of a surprise. You’re the sole male offspring after your brother, and he never sired a son.”
“Well, as you and I have recently discovered,” Peyton caustically pointed out, “he sired sons, but not with his lawful wife, so maybe we shouldn’t mention them.”
“Yes, I suppose we shouldn’t. The world’s a strange place, isn’t it? He had all those children, but you are the only one who counted.”
“I can’t decide if I’ve been insulted or if you’re simply stating the facts.”
She cast a sly glance that didn’t tell him anything. “I would never insult you.”
He smirked with derision, but still, he relished the chance to catalog his complaints. “All of this is so complicated.”
“How?”
“I love the navy, and I loathe it here.”
“You poor baby,” she sarcastically chided. “You’ve been showered with a title and an estate and a fortune. How dreadful your life is.”
“I realize I seem ungrateful.”
“Yes, you do.”
“In my own defense, I was never welcomed at Benton as a boy, so it’s never felt like home to me. My boarding school was home.”
She scowled. “Why weren’t you welcome?”
“My father didn’t like me. He has to be rolling in his grave now that his precious earldom is mine. If he wasn’t already dead, the prospect would kill him. I’m taking some solace from that.”
“What an awful comment! Don’t you dare take solace from it.”
“All right, just for you, I’ll try not to.”
“I’d appreciate it. I should locate the nearest church so I can offer up a prayer for your immortal soul. I’m very worried about it.”
“How about if you skip the worries about my immortal soul and focus on the very mortal man?”
“Yes, we’ve been discussing how difficult your life is.”
“Barbara and Richard don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here.”
“So go back to the navy and let them have it.”
“I don’t think I should. I’m not certain they’re good stewards.”
“Then hire some competent managers and bring them in instead.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“I’d give ten pounds to have half your problems. You’re wealthy and important. You hold a respected position in the military, and as part of your job, you travel the globe. Your family is prominent and esteemed. Stop whining. You annoy me.”
“I don’t mean to, but please explain this to me: How does a fellow fire his relatives? Especially when the property seems to be theirs rather than mine.”
“That is a tough situation.”
“I’m constantly besieged by internal debates about what’s fair—and what’s not. I have to take charge while ruffling as few feathers as possible.”
“Can you?”
“I doubt it. I’m predicting every feather in my path will be ruffled.”
“And you like to bluster about like a bull in a china shop.”
“Yes, I’ve been known to bluster. It’s not in my nature to be calm or quiet.”
“I’ve noticed that about you.” She shook her head and chuckled. “How can I convince you to cease confiding in me? It’s so inappropriate for you to tell me your troubles.”
“I can’t be silent. In the past three weeks, you’re the first person I’ve encountered who’s too polite to stomp off when I wax on about how I’m vexed to the bone.”
“Should I be less polite? Would that work?”
“Yes. If you’re weary of hearing my list of grievances, you should be extremely rude.”
She snorted with amusement. “I’m never rude. I never acquired that skill. My sister, Maud, is the one who’s pompous and irritating. I’m the complete opposite.”
“I’ve sensed that about you. Will it be hard to speak with her about Daisy?”
“Very hard, and I’ve been sitting here, trying to envision our conversation. I find it quite unimaginable, and I’m sure she’ll shoot the messenger.”
“You’ll be fine.”
He reached out and patted her hand. It was a simple gesture of support, but it rocked him in ways he hadn’t intended. He felt shocked by it, felt electrified by it. If he was suddenly informed she w
as a sorceress and she’d bewitched him, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
He had to pull himself away and leave her alone. He couldn’t loiter in the garden and hang on her every word. He was behaving like an idiot, like a smitten swain, which was deranged.
“I have an idea,” he said.
“What is it?”
“You shouldn’t have supper with the family.”
“They won’t gobble me up—if that’s what’s bothering you. They could never intimidate me.”
“I’d hate to have them be awful to you though.”
“You should join us too. We can be a united bulwark to push back against their snobbery.”
“I never eat with them.”
“Never?”
“No, so what if you and I have a private supper in my room?”
She studied him strangely, as if the request was too bizarre to fathom, and he had to admit he was stunned to have voiced it. A bachelor didn’t invite a young lady to his bedchamber for any reason. It wasn’t allowed.
“You and I?” Her alarm was obvious. “Have a private supper?”
“Yes.”
“No!” she firmly stated. “You and I will never share any private moments. You shouldn’t presume that we might.”
“I apologize if I offended you.”
“I’m not offended. I’m merely making my position clear. I may be a guest in your home, and I may not have a chaperone to watch over me, but I’m not easy prey. You shouldn’t assume I am.”
“Easy prey!” he huffed. “Give me more credit than that. I simply wanted to dine with you. I thought it would be enjoyable.”
“It might have been, but your suggestion has reignited my fear that you are much more like your brother than you would ever acknowledge.”
“I’m nothing like him.”
“Let’s hope not.”
She stood, crushing him with the realization that he’d chased her away. He wasn’t usually such a bungler.
“Don’t be angry,” he said.
“I’m not angry. You’re a bit more man than I can handle. I can’t deal with a sophisticated fellow like you, and I learned the hard way that I have to be careful.”
“It’s just supper.”
“Maybe or maybe not.” She stared down at him, looking very shrewd and very wise for a girl who was only twenty. “I believe I will have a tray sent to my room, but I will eat by myself. Now then, if you’ll excuse me? I should check if your rider has returned with my bag.”
“I’m sorry to have upset you.”
“I never permit handsome gentlemen to upset me,” she claimed, “but I am always wary.”
He raised a brow. “You think I’m handsome?”
“You know you are. Don’t be vain about it.”
She started off, and he called after her, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“We’ll go together to meet Daisy. Don’t forget that I’m not acquainted with her either.”
She nodded. “I suppose we can go together—so long as you mind your manners.”
“When have I not?”
She scoffed with disgust. “You’re impossible.”
She walked on, and he dawdled until she vanished into the manor. With her departure, it dawned on him that he was very morose. Gad, did he…he…miss her?
The notion didn’t bear contemplating.
He rose and went to the stables to saddle a horse. He’d spend the remainder of the afternoon galloping down rural lanes. By nightfall, any poignant emotion she’d generated would have evaporated, and he’d be restored to his usual condition.
At least he expected he would be, but as he pondered the next day and how he’d be with her for several hours, he caught himself grinning from ear to ear.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jo peeked out the window of her carriage, and she sighted Daisy’s house. It was a fine dwelling, two stories high and painted white with green shutters. There were flowerboxes under the windows and a stone walk leading to the front door.
It was the sort of place where a successful farmer or perhaps a retired local merchant might have resided, so they didn’t have Daisy living in squalor which was a relief.
Lord Benton was leaned against the gate, his horse tied to the fence, and Jo couldn’t decide if she was thrilled or irked to see him.
After their encounter in the garden the prior afternoon, she hadn’t spoken to him again. He’d flirted outrageously, and she couldn’t deny that he fascinated her. No doubt he believed she’d been flirting in return, and she probably had been. But when he’d suggested she share a private supper, she’d recognized her folly quickly enough.
She’d hurried to her room and had stayed there for the remainder of the evening.
She’d assumed he would travel to Daisy’s house with her, but a maid had told her she’d be riding alone, so she’d figured he wasn’t coming after all. Yet here he was, smiling and looking wonderful, as if he’d been impatiently watching for her to arrive.
As the carriage rattled to a halt, he marched over and opened the door himself, taking her hand and guiding her down.
“Good afternoon, Miss Bates,” he said.
“Good afternoon, Lord Benton.”
“That mode of address sounds so exhausting to me. Would you call me Commander Prescott instead?”
“No.”
“Why must you always be so difficult?”
“I can’t help it, my lord. I like to torment you.”
“I bet you weren’t expecting me.”
“No, I wasn’t. I’d quite given up on you.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“Have you been inside?”
“No.”
“Shall we go in together?” she asked.
“Yes, let’s do.”
He escorted her through the gate, and as he banged the knocker, he glanced at her and asked, “Are you nervous?”
“Not nervous precisely. Mostly excited I suppose.”
“I sent word that we would visit.”
“I’m glad you thought of it.”
He knocked a second time, and a housemaid ushered them into a cozy parlor. A young woman about Jo’s age stood to greet them. She was pretty, blond and blue-eyed, tidy in her appearance and professional in her bearing. There was a tea tray on a table, so they’d be welcomed with refreshments.
They sat on the sofa, and the woman sat in the chair across from them.
“Lord Benton, Miss Bates,” she said, “thank you so much for coming. I’m Daisy’s governess, Winifred Watson.”
“Hello to you, Miss Watson,” Lord Benton replied. Jo merely nodded.
“I had Daisy wait in her bedchamber,” Miss Watson said, “until we’ve had a few minutes to confer amongst ourselves.”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Jo said, “but I don’t wish to chat for long. I’m so eager to meet her.”
“Of course you are,” Miss Watson agreed. “I’ll be very brief.”
Lord Benton said, “I was told I have another niece and a nephew lodged with you as well. May I meet them too?”
“Yes, Bobby and Jane are here,” Miss Watson said. “They’re all upstairs, and I’ve ordered them to be quiet, although I doubt they’ll manage it. We’re located at the end of a deserted lane, so we don’t get many guests.”
There was an awkward pause where numerous comments went unvoiced. The identity of the children would be bandied in the neighborhood, and they’d be viewed disdainfully by many.
It was sad that people were so judgmental, but as her own mother’s situation had proved, rural sensibilities were easily offended. But why should Neville Prescott’s children be shunned? They hadn’t committed any sins. If there was shame to be leveled, it ought to begin with the late earl.
“Before I bring them down,” Miss Watson continued, “I wanted to explain that this has been a very trying experience for them.�
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“Are they aware they might be departing?” Lord Benton asked.
“Yes, I’ve kept them fully apprised. There’s no reason to shield them from reality.”
“What a refreshing attitude,” he said.
Miss Watson stared at Lord Benton, and her gaze was pleading. “I realize I have no right to interfere, Lord Benton, but I urge you to be kind to them. Actually, I’ll beg you to be kind—if that will help.”
“You don’t have to beg, Miss Watson. I don’t intend to be cruel, but you must understand—until Miss Bates arrived yesterday—I had no idea that these three children even existed. I’m finding my way through the whole maze, and I haven’t decided how any of this should resolve.”
“The three of them have always resided here,” Miss Watson said, “and they’re a family. They’re half-siblings after all, and they’re quite distressed at the notion of being separated.”
“How old are they?” Jo asked.
“Jane is eleven, and Bobby is twelve.”
“And Daisy is nine,” Jo put in.
“My brother was a busy man,” Lord Benton sarcastically muttered, and Jo cast a scolding glare in his direction.
“Don’t be vulgar, Lord Benton,” she warned. “Miss Watson has just been introduced to you. You’ll give her the wrong impression, and she’ll think you’re crude.”
His cheeks flushed with chagrin. “I apologize, Miss Watson.”
“Apology accepted, my lord. I teach children for a living. I’m not faint of heart.”
“That’s good to know.”
He smiled a charming smile that Jo was annoyed to see but was glad to have witnessed. She’d assumed the smiles he bestowed were for her alone, that he deemed her to be special and favored, but apparently, he smiled at every female the same way. In her dealings with him, she shouldn’t ever forget it.
“If you kick them out, Lord Benton—” Miss Watson started, but he cut her off.
“No one will be kicked out, Miss Watson. We’ll choose a viable conclusion for all concerned. I’ll be speaking to Mr. Slater about it.”
