It stung to hear her situation put so bluntly by someone who was effectively a stranger.
“I have lived there since I was orphaned at the age of thirteen. I am now twenty.”
“And you do not get along with Lady Gillray?”
“You might say that. But my sister is married to the Duke of Greystone. They are in the country, but when they return, I will live with them. So, you need not worry about me.”
“I did not say I was worried. Only that I offer my help.”
Christine looked up at him, desperately trying to see through the stony exterior.
He gives me nothing. But I know that he must be doing this for his own agenda. He is a wolf, not even pretending to wear sheep’s clothing. But what choice do I have?
Seven
“What a display you put on last night, old chap!” Ernald Thynne, Earl of Newton, exclaimed.
He strode into view around a bay window, his wife Elizabeth on his arm. Striding was not the most accurate term to describe Ernald’s gait. He was too portly. A waddle was more correct.
“Newton,” Tristan greeted, rising from the bench where he had situated himself to watch the sunrise.
He smiled, and for once, it was not forced. There were a few people whose society he did not avoid. Ernald, his old school friend, was one such.
“Newton,” Ernald mimicked, “how formal he is. We have battled together on the playing fields of Eton, endured the lash for each other’s misdemeanors, and he greets me like everyone’s least favorite brother-in-law on the scrounge for a pound.”
“He is merely less loquacious than you are, my dear,” swan-like Elizabeth said, patting her husband’s arm.
“I did not see you, Elizabeth, last night. Did you leave me to endure the first evening of this circus alone?” Tristan asked.
“I arrived in time to see you devastate the Dowager Duchess’ first game,” Elizabeth said in a chiding tone.
Tristan scoffed. “Ridiculous. I played the game for as long as I could and left when I could stand no more.”
“Or when you had achieved your objective?” Elizabeth said with an arched eyebrow.
She was rapier sharp while her husband tended towards sledgehammer blunt.
“What would that be?” Tristan asked innocently.
“I will leave you, gentlemen, to discuss that. I will stretch my legs,” Elizabeth said, taking her leave.
“A fine woman, I don’t know what I would do without her,” Ernald said.
“Nor do I,” Tristan said sardonically.
“And now, old friend, why don’t you tell me about the woman you wish to make indispensable in your household?”
Tristan looked at his old friend, at the gleam in his eye.
He has learned a fair bit of sharpness from his wife. Time was, he would not have noticed a thing except the buffet.
“Does the name Christine Davidson of Southbria,” Tristan said, “mean anything to you?”
Ernald frowned, rubbing his palms together the way he always did when thinking. “Southbria? Yes, wasn’t that the cad who ran off with everyone’s money?”
“Charles Davidson, Earl of Southbria. Yes, cad is the least of the words I would use to describe him. A fraudster would be a factual term for him.”
“Wait!” Ernald said, catching on, “This Christine person is his wife?”
