regarded the gilt of the ceiling and regained some measure of control over his temper. Everywhere he turned, there was another excuse, another reason why he must yield and give way. Why he must accept this thoroughly unsuitable woman. ‘I suppose we must all bow in the face of love and romance.’
‘My cousin concurred with me about the solution, considering the Countess’s condition and her maid’s situation. Everyone was agreed that you would see the logic.’
‘Everyone neglected to consult me.’
‘Your letter stressed the urgency. I barely had time to scrawl three lines to my stepmother once the scheme was agreed.’
Simon resisted the temptation to swear long and loud. As if forgoing letter writing to one’s stepmother was somehow akin to his situation. ‘You will be rewarded in heaven.’
‘There is no need to blaspheme, Mr Clare.’
Simon pressed his lips together and held back a few more choice words. ‘And how precisely are you related to the Earl?’
‘As I’ve already mentioned, I am the Earl’s second cousin. Our maternal grandmothers were sisters. The connection sealed the matter. Your sister had no wish for some stranger to look after her nephew. I am not a stranger, but a relation.’ Her lips curved in a placating smile.
Simon tightened his grip on this cane. Same obstinate arrogance as his brother-in-law. Same assumption that they ruled the planet and all must give way. He did not need arrogance; he needed help with Robert. ‘Let me see your bare hands.’
She held out a delicate hand, long fingered and smooth without a callous or blemish. ‘I have no fear of work.’
Simon resisted the urge to ask if she had ever lifted anything heavier than a china tea pot.
‘What sort of qualifications do you possess? My son has had scarlet fever. The worst has passed, but he remains weak. He will require proper nursing, not someone to wipe his brow with eau de cologne.’ Simon refused to think about the nights he had spent by his son’s bed. Silently he cursed the school for not noticing, and then sending him home in a cold carriage. Whatever happened, Robert would be educated elsewhere. And he refused to think about the other problem, the tendency Robert had begun to exhibit. It had to be temporary— the boy would return to his old self in time. Diana would have brought him back.
‘Your letter did indicate the nature of the illness. It was what made Lord Coltonby adamant. I know how to run a sick room, quite probably better than your sister.’
‘An unusual accomplishment. I would have considered dancing lessons or water colours to be more your forte.’
‘My father was a viscount, and my mother the daughter of a baronet, but that does not preclude me being able to nurse.’ Her chin angled higher and her tone became more clipped. ‘One does what one must and I need to support my family, regardless of my parentage.’ Her mouth became thin, but her gaze did not waver. Simon felt a glimmer of respect rise within him. Angrily he dampened it down. ‘My stepbrother James requires a commission in the army. I happened to be at Coltonby House, seeking advice, shortly after your letter arrived. It seemed the best way. Lord Coltonby will help my brother and I will assist you. One cannot accept charity, Mr Clare.’
‘And why does your family not assist your stepbrother? Surely you have male relations capable of the task. Why does he seek to hide behind petticoats?’
Simon was gratified to see Miss Benedict glance down at the floor. Two bright spots appeared on her cheeks and for the first time in their encounter her poise appeared shaken. She rapidly recovered.
‘My eldest brother died a year ago. His carriage turned over on the way to visit me. There is no one else, no one else who cares.’ She plucked at the lace on her collar. ‘He left a wife and a son who will never know his father. It is my sister-in-law Sophia who is head of the family now, and she…she has other concerns.’
Simon pursed his lips. The undercurrent to her words was obvious. The sister-in-law had quite rightly decided to stop the allowance of some feckless aristocrat. It was admirable in a way that Miss Benedict wanted to help her brother. But he doubted that she was the right person for Robert. Even Robert’s current nurse had problems and she had arrived with a string of recommendations and references. All he had to do was find the right words to refuse Miss Benedict’s assistance.
Just then an earsplitting yowl emanated from the basket as it rocked on the woman’s arm. She immediately started to make cooing noises to whatever creature lay under the cloth and the din subsided.
‘What in the name of all that is holy is that?’
‘A cat.’ Her cheeks had the grace to develop a slight pink tinge. ‘Little more than a kitten, actually. I discovered him at our stop near Catterick. The poor thing was mewling its head off beside its mother. The innkeeper wanted to drown him.’
‘And you decided to save its life. How saintly.’ Simon stared at the basket. ‘What are you planning on doing with this cat?’
‘All the kitten wants is a bit of milk and a warm corner in which to sleep.’ Her voice was low and she appeared to be talking to his boots. ‘A chance to live.’
‘Are you prone to picking up stray animals that happen across your path, Miss Benedict?’ Simon raised one eyebrow, intrigued. She knew he was about to dismiss her and she was trying to distract him.
‘I will let you know when I discover the next animal in dire need.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘Surely your heart has been touched by this animal’s plight, and you will not refuse him shelter.’
‘It has been claimed that I have no heart.’
‘Having met your sister, I find that impossible.’
Simon gritted his teeth. He would allow Miss Benedict to stay the night, but in the morning, she would have to go. Back to Coltonby with a warning—he had managed thus far on his own and did not need to depend on the kindness of strangers. There would be no need to trouble Robert.
‘Master, Master!’ The upstairs maid’s frightened voice echoed from the hallway, interrupting him. ‘It has started again! Worse than ever. Mrs Smith says to come quickly.’
‘Stop that unholy racket!’ Simon thundered, ignoring Miss Benedict’s questioning glance, and the maid’s wails ceased. Simon tilted his head as a better solution occurred to him. If Miss Benedict saw Robert in this state he had little doubt that she would flee on the first coach, cat and all.
‘I am sorry, truly I am, but young Master Robert is being impossible. He has heard the carriage and swears that it will be her ladyship.’ The maid had burst into the room without knocking. ‘And now Jenkins has told Mrs Smith that Miss Diana is not here after all. And the nurse refuses to go back in. Not after what he did to her the last time. He is the very devil incarnate. Mrs Smith says that I must come and fetch you. I am not to take no for an answer. You must see your son.’
Simon raised his eyes to the ceiling. The day had descended from awful to disastrous. There was no telling what measures would be required to restrain the boy.
‘Mr Clare, are you going to introduce me to your son?’ Miss Benedict stood there, her face composed and her shoulders relaxed. ‘I believe he is awake. He will want to know that his aunt is well.’
Simon
