“I also said I didn’t want you filling your head with nonsense. And those libraries are stocked full of novels and other ridiculous stories.”
“Not true, sir,” Clayton spoke up. “I visited the place myself. There are a great many books, and many of them are improving tomes. Non-fiction and such.”
Auric was not listening. He got abruptly to his feet, and Eliza flinched.
“It’s too late now,” he snarled. “But I do not approve. Next time you wish to procure a gift for my family, I would appreciate it if you would consult me beforehand.”
“They are my family too.”
Eliza’s hand fluttered out, resting warningly on Clayton’s sleeve. Mind your tongue, the touch told him. He’s not in the mood for this.
Drawing in a deep breath, Clayton smoothed out the vibrantly coloured front of his waistcoat.
“I’m sorry you disapprove,” he said at last, “but this is what Amelia wanted. It is her birthday, after all.”
Auric did not glance at his daughter. He was glaring balefully at Clayton, with an anger that could not possibly have been conjured only from the gift of a book and a library subscription.
“A word, if you please,” Auric said abruptly. “In my study.”
“But, Auric, the luncheon…” Eliza began, tailing off when he glowered at her.
“It’ll keep,” Auric snarled. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room.
Edward came shuffling over to where his mother sat.
“I’m hungry, Mama.”
“We’ll have to wait a little longer, it seems,” Eliza said, sounding forcibly bright. “Don’t keep him too long, will you, Clayton?”
He smiled tightly back at her. “I’ll do my best not to ruin Amelia’s birthday.”
Eliza looked away. “It is not you who is ruining it.”
He said nothing. There was nothing to say to that, really. It wasn’t like Eliza to blame her husband at all, even when he was at his worst.
It did not bode well for their future.
Swallowing down his misgiving, Clayton strode out of the room, following his father down the dark hallway.
The Earl of Wrenwood’s study was not designed to be comfortable or inviting. The few memories Clayton held of theplace from his youth were never good. The room was out of bounds to everyone, with only the butler allowed to do light cleaning. Occasionally, Auric would notice dust on the mantelpiece or something like that, and fly into a rage, bellowing and waving his arms at the servants, and insist on a full, deep clean of his study, regardless of what else was going on in the house.
Otherwise, access was forbidden. Clayton was only summoned to the room when he was in deep, deep disgrace, generally shortly before the cane hanging above Auric’s fireplace was about to be used.
The room was dark, with heavy velvet curtains covering the single window, and a pall of dust and cigar smoke hung in the air. There were armchairs angled towards the fire – one heavily used, one dusty and barely sat in – and a wide, deep desk dominated half of the room.
Auric settled himself in a high-backed leather chair behind the desk, steepling his fingers. There was no chair set in front of the desk, leaving Clayton with nothing to do but stand.
“A circulating library is a vulgar thing, Clayton,” Auric said, after a long, heavy pause. “I do not want my daughter to enter such a place.”
“They are not vulgar,” he answered coolly. “They are becoming more fashionable by the day and are frequented by ladies and gentlemen of all types. The finest ladies in the land attend them. As I said before, I visited the place myself before I bought Amelia a subscription. I’m sure Eliza will accompany her, or else I will. If you don’t wish her to collect books, a library is a fine solution.”
“A better solution is for her not to fill her head with nonsense,” Auric ground out. “But that is not why I summoned you here.”
Clayton swallowed hard. Despite himself, the old fear wassurfacing. He fought to keep himself from glancing fearfully at the cane hanging over the mantelpiece.
I hope he doesn’t use that on Edward or Amelia. If I find out he has, I do not know what I would do.
“Oh?” he forced himself to say. “Shall we sit by the fireplace and talk?”
