caught her breath at this obvious jibe at his absent older cousin. She had heard some of his conversation with the old earl and gathered there was some doubt about the legitimacy of his birth. She hadn’t expected the issue addressed so openly.
Last night she’d had the sense that the old man’s barbs had found their mark with the heir. Not that he’d had shown any reaction. But there had been something running beneath the surface. Anger. Perhaps resentment. And a sense of aloneness, as if he too had hoped for acceptance from this family.
She certainly did not approve of sniping at a person behind their back and their family quarrels were certainly none of her business, so she ignored the comment and buttered her toast. She had more important matters on her mind. Getting back to school. Preparing her lessons. Helping Sally find ways to reduce expenses still further if the earl’s munificence was indeed ended.
She smiled at the butler as he added chocolate to her cup. ‘Manners, may I request the carriage take me to St Ives after breakfast? I would like to catch the stage back to Wiltshire.’
‘I can’t do that, miss,’ Manners replied stone-faced.
Startled, she stared at him.
Gerald frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘His lordship’s orders. You will have to apply to him, miss.’
The heat in her cheeks turned to fire at the thought of asking his lordship for anything.
‘Damn him,’ Jeffrey said with more heat than he seemed wont to display. ‘He hasn’t been here five minutes and already he’s acting …’ His voice tailed off and he reddened as he realised Gerald’s avid gaze was fixed on his face.
‘It isn’t fair,’ Gerald said. ‘You should be the heir. He should have the decency to withdraw his claim.’
‘He can’t,’ Jeffrey said. ‘The heir is the heir. The proof is irrefutable.’
‘It still isn’t right,’ Gerald muttered.
Jeffrey gave Mary an apologetic smile. ‘Gerald takes things too much to heart. And I am sorry about the carriage, Miss Wilding. Would you like me to speak to … to his lordship?’ He stumbled on the last word as if he was not quite as sanguine as he made out.
‘I would certainly hate to inconvenience anyone,’ Mary said. ‘Perhaps I shall walk.’
‘There’s a path along the cliffs,’ Gerald said. ‘I’ve walked it often. Take you a good while, though.’
‘I advise you not to try it, Miss Wilding,’ Jeffrey drawled. ‘The Cornish coast is dangerous for those who do not know it.’
Another roadblock. Her spine stiffened. She gave him a tight smile ‘Thank you for the warning. Perhaps I should seek the earl’s permission to take the carriage, after all.’
Or not. How difficult could it be to walk along the coast? Sea on one side, land on the other and no earthly chance of getting lost. Unlike her experience in this house. And she had absolutely no intention of asking his lordship for anything. The thought of doing so made her heart race.
‘Where is the new lordship,’ Gerald asked, his lip curling with distaste.
‘I believe he rode out, sir,’ the butler said. ‘More coffee?’
Gerald waved him off.
‘I wonder what he is riding?’ Jeffrey said. ‘A man like him probably has no idea of good horseflesh.’
Like him? Now that was pure snobbery. She wondered what they said about a woman like her, a penniless schoolteacher, behind her back. No doubt they had thought she had come to ingratiate herself. How mortifying that they were very nearly right. She felt her shoulders rise in that old defensive posture and forced them to relax, keeping her expression neutral. These young noblemen were nowhere near as vicious as schoolgirls, nothing to fear at all.
‘Aye,’ Gerald said. ‘A man like him will be all show and no go.’
Jeffrey raised a brow. ‘As if you would know, cuz. Isn’t it time your mother let you have a decent mount of your own?’
Gerald hunched a shoulder. ‘I’m to get one on my birthday. And a phaeton.’
‘God help us all,’ Jeff said sotto voce.
The door swung back and the earl strode in. His silver gaze swept the room, taking in the occupants in one swift glance before he made for the empty place at the head of the table.
The new earl was just as impressive in the grey of morning as he had been in the glow of lamplight. Perhaps more so. His black coat hugged his broad shoulders and his cravat was neatly tied. He was not wearing an armband. Perhaps he considered the black coat quite enough, though the rich fabric of his cream waistcoat, embroidered with blue sprigs, suggested he hadn’t given mourning a thought when he dressed.
The shadowed jaw of the previous night was gone, his face smooth and recently shaved. He was, as her girls would say when they thought she could not hear, devilishly handsome. Devilish being the most apt word she could think of in respect to the earl, since his face was set in the granite-hard lines of a fallen angel who found his fate grim.
Oh, jumping Jehosophat, did it matter how he looked? After today, she would never see him again.
‘Good morning,’ he said to the room at large.
The two young men mumbled grudging greetings.
‘Good morning, my lord,’ Mary said with a polite calm. It wasn’t right to treat him like some sort of pariah in his own house. She wouldn’t do it. She would be civil. Even if it was hard to breathe now he took up so much of the air in the room.
His eyes widened a fraction. ‘Miss Wilding. Up and about so early?’
‘As is my usual wont,’ she replied, sipping her chocolate, not tasting it at all any more, because all she was aware of was him.
Heat rushed to her cheeks and she hoped he did not notice.
After responding to Manners’s enquiries about his preferences for breakfast, he picked up the newspaper beside his plate and disappeared behind it.
A strained silence filled the room. It demanded that someone break it. It was just too obvious that they had stopped talking the moment he entered. He would think they were talking about him. They weren’t. At least, not all of the time. It made her feel very uncomfortable, as if her skin was stretched too tight.
She waited until he had eaten most of his breakfast. Sally, widowed by two husbands and therefore an expert, always said men were not worth talking to until they had filled their stomachs. ‘My lord?’
He looked up, frowning.
Perhaps he hadn’t eaten enough. Well, it was too late to draw back. ‘May I request that your coachman drive me to St Ives this morning? It is time I returned home.’
He frowned. ‘Not today. Your presence is required in two hours’ time for the reading of the will.’
The
