Clara turned quickly away at the thought, her face flaming. “You spent all night in the shed?” she asked. “That was thoughtful of you. I’m certain Harvey was frightened when he found himself alone.”
“He was noisy,” Alden said, some of his gruffness returning. “I didn’t want him waking the neighbors. He quieted when I stayed with him.”
“Wasn’t that sweet?” she asked Harvey. “Making sure you weren’t alone.”
“Sweet.” Alden huffed. “Have a care around whom you bandy that word about.”
Clara shot a grin at him. “I’d only—”
She broke off, suddenly uneasy, as two gentlemen sauntered through the French doors that led from the house into the garden.
They wore riding clothes—breeches, boots, and jackets—though their ensembles looked too fine for the athletic feat of horseback riding. Both gentlemen were obviously still half asleep and peered about with bloodshot eyes, squinting as though the light was too much for them.
One had fair hair, the other dark. Otherwise they looked very much alike. Neither was Mr. Forsythe, so these must be the men he and Alden had protected Clara from yesterday.
“Damn and blast,” Alden said. “I thought they’d lie abed until afternoon.”
“Wewouldhave lain abed,” the blond man said, hand over his mouth to hide a yawn, “but you were making such a bloody din.”
“Ah, but with good reason,” the dark-haired man said. He sent Clara what he must believe was an enticing smile.
“If you go back into the house now,” Alden said evenly, “I won’t have to thrash you.”
“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Carlisle,” the blond man said. He gave Clara a bow. “George Featherstone, at your service, madam.”
“William Colliver,” the dark-haired man said. “How do you do, good woman?”
Milford broke in with shocked disapproval. “She isLadyClara Griffin, sir. Daughter of the Earl of Duxford.”
“Even better,” Featherstone said. “Aristocratic ladies like to kick up their heels. Or wash dogs.” He laughed, then winced and rubbed his temple.
Alden started forward. “I warned you.”
Harvey, who’d been regarding the two gentlemen with uncertainty, now stepped in front of Clara. His floppy ears pricked and a low growl rumbled in his belly.
“Is that thing dangerous?” Colliver pointed a trembling, gloved finger at Harvey. “Doesn’t look it. Spindly, too. Best put it down, Carlisle, and have done.She’smuch more comely.” The finger switched to Clara.
“How very flattering,” she said with a grimace.
“Did you hire her to look after us, Carlisle?” Featherstone asked. “Or is she just for play?”
Clara began a retort, but her words were drowned by Alden’s roar.
“Out!” He ran at the men, menace in every stride. “Run, before I put my hands around your miserable necks.”
The dandies only blinked at him. “Steady on, Carlisle,” Featherstone began. “It’s only a joke.”
Alden reached them, and the two moved nervously backward. “Apologize to the lady, and then begone.Now.”
“Will take our valets a bit of time to pack.” Colliver retreated one more step. “What happened to your famous hospitality?”
“You wore that out long ago.” Alden towered before them, fists balled, and Harvey’s growls increased. “Milford will send your things on, that is, if I don’t put them on a bonfire. I want the lot of youout.”
“Right.” Featherstone stepped inside the house and peered out through the doorway. “We could give you the cut direct for this.”
“Drop you entirely,” Colliver said as he joined Featherstone.
Alden’s stance told them he cared not one whit. “You are forgetting the apology.”
