“Not at all,” Featherstone said loftily. “Beg your pardon, Lady Clara. You’re not offended, are you?”
“I am, rather,” Clara told him. “I accept your apologies, however, if it will speed you out the door. Lord Alden has better friends.”
“She has a saucy tongue,” Colliver observed to Featherstone. “Wonder if Carlisle likes the taste?”
Alden ran at them. Harvey strained at the lead Clara had clipped onto his collar, and finally lunged, ripping the strap from her hand. He charged the door, reaching it at the same time as Alden.
Featherstone slammed it, he and Colliver peering fearfully through the glass as Harvey jumped on the French door, teeth bared with his snarls.
Alden stood next to Harvey, arms folded. Clara couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was giving his former friends his hard-eyed glare.
The two men regarded Alden and Harvey in alarm for another moment, then they faded back into the house, out of sight.
Harvey gave them a final growl before he sat down, keeping watch on the door. Alden patted his shoulder.
“Good lad, Harvey. Another beefsteak for you.”
Harvey looked up, his tongue lolling, tail thumping.
“Please make certain they go at once,” Alden said to Milford.
“Of course, my lord. It will be my pleasure.” The valet gave Alden a nod, moved past Harvey, who panted up at him, and slid noiselessly into the house.
Alden turned and made for Clara, and Harvey, finished with menacing, loped beside him.
“Please accept my many apologies for my asinine and disagreeable friends. I will thrash them if I ever see them again.” Alden’s anger flared once more, then faded, his anguish plain. “I would never hurt you for the world. I can only hope to make it up to you, and promise that those cretins will never come near you again.”
“Their behavior isn’t your fault,” Clara said with some surprise. “More the fault of whoever raised them. They are naught but spoiled brats.”
“Itismy fault,” he insisted. “I am the fool who let them stay here. I should have banished them yesterday, but it was pouring, and I thought to give them shelter at least for the night. See how they repay me? They spoke of the cut direct, but I will be shunningthem.”
“You were being kind,” Clara said. “They didn’t deserve it, but again, it is hardly your fault that they are rotten.”
Alden’s eyes began to lose some of their bleakness. “I suppose not.”
“Mr. Forsythe had much better manners.”
The starkness returned. “Worth twenty of them.” He set his mouth in a grim line. “Let us not speak of it.”
“No.” She laid her hand on Alden’s arm. “We will not.”
Mr. Forsythe must have returned to his own home the previous night, she reasoned, or he’d have prevented the other two coming outside. Probably he’d have been helping Alden with Harvey as well, if he’d stayed.
She glanced down at herself and her water-blotched frock. “I am a mess. I must go home and clean myself up, or Mama will scold me.”
Clara looked up to see Alden’s gaze fixed on her bare hand on his sleeve. He covered her fingers with his own, warming them, warming her.
“Will you come back?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Yes,Clara wanted to gush.Anytime you wish.
She cleared her throat. “Why don’t you have a wash and change as well? Then bring Harvey to my house and have breakfast. My sisters will be thrilled with both of you.”
Alden’s brow puckered. “They’ll be pleased to see a misanthrope and a damp hound?”
Clara sent him a smile. “Of course they will be. It’s just going on nine o’clock. Be there as soon as you are able.”
Alden stared down at her, mystified. Before Clara could stop herself, she rose on tiptoes, brushed a quick kiss to his lips, and skimmed to the garden gate. Harvey barked once as she slipped through to the lane.
