‘Alexander Smith, formerly of the 1st Battalion 2nd Foot Guard,’ said Jacob. ‘He now works for Miss Fitz-Pennington and me.’
‘Good God, you bring that man here!’ The viscount had clearly done his research into Jacob’s life and knew exactly who Alex Smith was. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’
‘I have not. You might recall that you were the one who invited me to come.’
‘Alone, Jacob, alone!’
‘Then you should’ve said, but if so, I would not have been able to attend you. Are you not aware that there is a dangerous person at large in the vicinity? Only yesterday a young man was attacked in Grasmere. My business partner insisted I bring someone to watch my back.’ He shot a look at Lady Alice, who was listening wide-eyed. ‘But perhaps we should take this conversation outside?’
‘Who was attacked? Not Mr Langhorne?’ she asked. ‘Was that why you were asking about him?’
‘No, my lady. It was one of his friends– a Mr Wright.’
‘Which one was he?’ She wrinkled her brow, trying to recall the men from the expedition to the Roman fort. ‘Not the dark-haired fellow, Mr Moss, or the officers– one of the others.’
‘He has light brown hair and comes from Colebrookdale.’
‘Then not the shepherd poet– because he is fair like Mr Smith here, and from these parts.’ She nodded as if in understanding. ‘Does the unfortunate man need anything? Can we send a basket?’
‘I’m afraid he needs your prayers. His situation is serious. He’s not regained consciousness.’
‘Then I’m pleased Miss Fitz-Pennington insisted you bring so capable a guard. Neither of us would wish to see a man we care for come to any harm.’ She gave him a look loaded with a meaning he very much did not want to take.
Arthur stepped forward and seized Jacob’s elbow. ‘You’re right, Jacob. This isn’t a conversation for the ladies. Smith, leave the room. You are not to remain in here on your own with a lady.’
‘Smith is not your man to order about, Arthur,’ said Jacob.
Lady Alice got up. ‘Please don’t quarrel. I will go upstairs to my room. I have some drawings I wish to complete. Mr Smith, make yourself at home. Finish the cake.’ With a little nod to the company, she swept out.
‘See: she’s a model hostess, so diplomatic,’ said Arthur. He strode off in the opposite direction to that which the lady had taken. ‘We’ll take this to Lord Furness. He’s on the terrace.’
With a sigh, Jacob fell into step and followed him out into the garden. Once clear of the house, the viscount let his temper out.
‘I can’t believe you!’ Arthur hadn’t yet forgiven his youngest brother for this and so much else. ‘Smith is all but ostracised in society and you think him decent company for a lady of her calibre?’
‘He and I are working on a case, Arthur. Your request that I come here this morning is interrupting something far more important than social calls.’
‘There is nothing more important than this, I assure you, and certainly not your foolish meddling in mysteries and low crimes!’
‘You’d prefer me to investigate high crimes and misdemeanours?’
They turned a corner to find Lord Furness standing on the terrace, sprinkling crumbs on the parapet for the squirrels– a picture of rural peace at odds with the quarrel between brothers.
‘Excellent– you brought him. Good morning, Dr Sandys.’ The sun made his smooth hair glow like liquid mercury and flattered his chiselled cheekbones. The Furness line looked set to inject a much-needed boost of good looks into the aristocracy, but Jacob couldn’t quite place the reason for the nobleman’s jocular tone. It seemed a little too much for a Monday morning.
He bowed. ‘My lord.’
‘You’ve seen my daughter, I hope?’
‘Yes, in the music room.’ He glanced at his brother, wondering what his cue was to be.
‘I am shocked you were alone with her– that isn’t decent.’ Lord Furness was smiling, despite his gruff words. ‘I trust an engagement is to be announced?’
‘I came with a friend and was not alone with your daughter for even a second.’ Their manoeuvrings were transparent. These two old coots were plotting. He would be amused if he wasn’t so annoyed with the pair.
‘I don’t believe he had a chance to broach the subject,’ said Arthur apologetically.
Lord Furness waved that away. ‘No matter. I already know from my daughter that she considers Dr Sandys a very eligible match. Congratulations.’
