“Ooh, seedcakes,” said Graeme, reaching for the cake plate as Victoria began to pour. “Taffy’s are the best, Miss Knight. Cook’s aren’t nearly as good.”
“Actually, Cook’s are rather dreadful,” said Grant. “And Taffy only makes hers for special occasions. Hand me one, will you, Graeme?”
Victoria clutched the Chinese porcelain teapot and stared at the twins. Not only were their hands in a distressing state of grubbiness, they were wolfing down the cakes like . . . well, ravenous wolves. To say their manners were appalling understated the case.
“Good God,” muttered Alec when Graeme wiped his mouth on his sleeve. It was a sentiment Victoria shared. The earl had claimed that his brothers were gentlemen, yet so far she’d seen no evidence to back up that assertion.
She peeked at Arnprior to gauge his reaction to his brothers’ disgraceful behavior and almost dropped the teapot. He was, once again, singularly focused on her. Was he waiting to see if she would reveal her distaste or faint dead away at the twins’ boorish behavior? If so, he was in for a surprise.
Still, she had to close her eyes for a few seconds to clamp down on a surge of frustration. She was tired and crabby from the long days on the road, and she had yet to even wash her face or brush the travel dirt from her clothes.
Alec touched her arm. “Victoria, are you quite well?”
She forced a smile. If the earl was testing her ability to maintain her poise—which seemed the only reasonable explanation—then she was more than ready to show her mettle.
“I’m quite well, thank you,” she said as she prepared Alec a cup. After handing it over, she regarded her host. “And what do you take in your tea, my lord?”
“I take it plain.” Arnprior nodded his thanks when she served him, and then began chatting with Alec while she prepared cups for the twins.
Graeme gave her a pointed wink when she handed one to him, which she just as pointedly ignored. Victoria already had his measure. He was basically harmless, and best dealt with by refusing to respond to provocations he cast in her path.
When Grant bobbed his head and shyly thanked her, she rewarded him with a smile that prompted a scowl from his twin. Clearly, Graeme was the mischief-maker, while Grant simply followed his brother’s lead. If left to his own devices, Grant would probably be much less disposed to get into trouble. It was a vulnerability she intended to exploit—if she decided to stay in this madhouse past the next twenty-four hours.
She glanced at Mr. MacDonald, sitting apart by the fireplace. She didn’t know if he was chilly, or making a point by being standoffish. Probably the latter. “Mr. MacDonald, what do you take in your tea?”
“Milk and two lumps,” he barked.
She prepared the cup and held it out. The old man sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. Victoria refused to budge from her chair. She had to draw a firm line or be forever bullied by him and everyone else who might be inclined to follow his lead. Having been a governess for several years, she’d come to expect a certain disregard from those she served. But she would no longer tolerate bullies or any sort of brutish behavior, even from someone holding a favored position in the household.
Especiallyif he had a favored position, given the disaster of her last situation.
The room had fallen silent again.
“Is there a problem, Miss Knight?” the earl finally asked.
“Not at all, my lord.” She continued to hold the cup steady, resisting the urge to stalk over and dump it on the old man’s head. Or Lord Arnprior’s, for that matter, if he didn’t stop scowling at her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alec struggling not to grin, and that gave her a boost of courage. Her arm was beginning to tire, though, so she hoped the impasse wouldn’t last much longer.
“For pity’s sake, Angus,” the earl said, “just fetch your blasted cup.”
The old man jerked up his chin. “If ye think I’ll be pan-derin’ to some—”
Grant jumped to his feet. “I’ll bring it to you, Grandda.”
The young man snatched the cup from Victoria’s hand, slopping tea into the saucer, and hurried over to his grandfather.
Mr. MacDonald smiled at his grandson. “Yer a good lad. Anyone who thinks ye need tutorin’ on your manners is daft.” Then he shot Victoria a triumphant sneer.
She forced herself to calmly pour her own cup, taking a sip while she composed her thoughts. Arnprior had gone back to observing her with that steady but rather grim regard. She apparently wasnotpassing the test, even though she’d kept her poise under trying circumstances.
After setting her cup down on the table with a decided click, she met the earl’s gaze. “I have a few questions, my lord, if you don’t mind.”
“About your tasks?” Arnprior nodded. “Yes, we’ll get to that in a minute.”
“I think we should get to it now,” Alec said bluntly. “Miss Knight can then determine if she wishes to take up the position or return to Glasgow with me.”
Mr. MacDonaldandthe twins perked up considerably. It seemed the twins were not looking forward to her tutelage, after all.
