“But cruel,” Carily complained, clutching his heart as though wounded.“If I may not stay, at least come and walk with me in the garden.”
“No,” Tabitha said bluntly.
Barty was already opening the door while Carily tried to stare Tabitha down.She sighed wearily, and a hint of colour seeped into his face.At last he turned smartly and followed Barty from the room.
I do hope you are not going to be troublesome...
Chapter Seven
At Sark Park, Ralph, acknowledged as the earl by almost everyone, paced his study.At least, he called it his study and tried desperately to think of it as his own, but in truth it still smelled of his uncle Althorpe.It was full of his uncle’s old-fashioned furniture and tobacco-stained walls, hung with his uncle’s taste in pictures—hunting and banqueting scenes.And even the books old Sark had kept here, calling them too artistic for feminine eyes, were somewhat coarsely illustrated examples of plain vulgarity and not remotely to his taste.He was sure Portia had discovered them, for she abetted his efforts to keep the children out of the room.Which was useful when Ralph needed to think.
As he paced, he was manufacturing a false crisis in his mind that would be guaranteed to bring Lily home while leaving Tabitha well out of the way at Hawthorn Court.Lord Hazlett’s last letter had stated that his grace was travelling by easy stages and would no doubt write before he arrived, which made his visit sound imminent.And Lily, such a pretty little thing, would surely be irresistible, particularly to a man starved of female companionship.By then, the young idiot would be desperate to give away wealth he would hardly miss, without paying too much attention as to exactly where it was going.
Then, whatever happened, even if the worst came to the worst, he would be safe.It remained a capital plan, if only Tabitha could be prevented from interfering.Considering Sark had abused and bullied the woman for the entire five years of their marriage, it was utterly ridiculous and yet oh so typical of the man that his one sign of respect to his last wife was to give her control of Ralph’s one immediate asset.Lily.
A knock interrupted his tortuous calculations, and he scowled at the footman who entered.
“My lord, a gentleman has called asking for a moment of your time.”
The duke so filled his thoughts that he jumped to an immediate conclusion without pausing to think that the duke had neither written in advance nor sent in his card.Ralph’s scowl melted.
“Show him in, Joseph, show him in!”
Ralph straightened his cravat where he had tugged at it absently and brushed down his coat.Anxiously, he eyed the decanters on the side cabinet.There was enough in each for a glass, though an invalid might well prefer tea...
“Mr.Smith,” Joseph announced, inexplicably, and a man older than himself walked into the room.
Even the sickest twenty-year-old could not look thirty years older.Ralph felt his welcoming smile fade and strove to hold it in place as the stranger bowed.
“I hope you will forgive the intrusion,” Mr.Smith said in the accents of a gentleman.“But I thought it best to come to you first, both to apologize for my tardiness, and to give you fair warning before the scandal sheets get hold of the story, as they inevitably will.”
“What story?”Ralph asked blankly.
“Perhaps you had better sit down.”
Ralph raised his eyebrows.“My good sir, don’t you feel it is a little impertinent for you to invite me to sit?”
