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‘You must come and have some tea.’ Elise whipped towards the exit.
‘Ah...there you are, miss; your father has sent me to look for you before the brew gets stewed. I’ve already brought a fresh pot, but that’s going cold...’ Betty Francis’s voice faded as, over Elise’s shoulder, she spotted the young woman had company. She gawped at the sight of an imposing gentleman standing at his ease by the mantel. The housekeeper could see from Elise’s face that something was amiss and her lips formed a knot. She might only be an employee, but she’d been around Mr Dewey’s daughters since they were knee high and believed she had a right to protect them from anything, or anyone, who might do them harm.
‘I...we...were coming along to the parlour,’ Elise said in a rush. ‘Viscount Blackthorne has just arrived from London and will have some tea as well. Would you make a fresh pot, please, Mrs Francis, and bring more biscuits, too?’
The housekeeper was unable to immediately close her dropped jaw to answer. Young Dr Burnett and elderly Squire Thaddon were what passed for gentry in the locality and Betty tended to like what she knew and distrust the rest.
She’d noticed straight away that he was Quality...but a viscount? Proper aristocracy were not much in evidence in these parts until later in the year when they arrived in great processions and took up residence in the halls and manors nestling in lush Hertfordshire valleys. The routs and parties that went on through the autumn and winter months brought plenty of work for local people as guests arrived from far and wide to stay at the big houses. Then come spring they were all gone back to town to enjoy the London frivolities while the locals took a breather and pinched pennies for lack of employment.
Mrs Francis gave Alex Blackthorne’s tall broad physique and darkly handsome face a sidelong look. ‘I’ll put the kettle on again, then, and get out the biscuit box,’ she announced, turning on her heel.
* * *
‘I do recall your family.’ Walter Dewey took his spectacles from the arm of the chair and put them on, giving Alex a long, calculating look. ‘I believe your mother was originally from Scotland and had a brother.’
‘Viscount Blackthorne is a friend of Hugh Kendrick’s,’ Elise quickly interposed. ‘I mentioned to you that we met that gentleman in town, Papa.’
‘I recognise the name,’ Walter confirmed. ‘I recall he paid undue attention to your sister.’
‘Hugh is the nephew of one of Aunt Dolly’s neighbours.’ Elise hoped to placate her father with a mention of his favourite relative. ‘Edith Vickers moved from Mayfair to Hammersmith and has become good friends with your sister. Aunt Dolly likes Hugh.’
Elise flicked a sympathetic glance at Alex, a poignant glow enveloping her as his subtle smile thanked her for attempting to defuse the situation. It was obvious from her father’s prickliness that he’d not forgotten the Blackthorne family ties and knew the viscount’s maternal uncle had once been his detested enemy. She wondered if repayment of the monetary debt owed by Thomas Venner might improve her father’s mood. Her eyes strayed to Alex’s face, merging with his questioning long-lashed gaze. She answered him with a small nod. Now the memory of his old foe had lodged in her father’s mind it would be a missed opportunity if Alex did not raise the matter and offer to repay what Thomas owed.
‘I’m pleased to meet you, sir.’ Having judged it a timely moment for formalities, Alex stepped forwards, extending a hand.
Walter hesitated momentarily before gripping the chair arms to lever himself upright. The upholstery continued to support him while he held out five thin, freckled fingers to be firmly shaken. The ritual over, he sagged back on to his seat.
‘Please do sit down, Lord Blackthorne.’ Elise indicated a chair close to the unlit hearth. ‘Where is Bea?’ she asked her father cheerily. ‘Surely Dr Burnett has not already left.’
‘They have gone together into the garden to look for feverfew and borage.’
Elise cast a startled glance her father’s way as she perched on the edge of the sofa, hoping Mrs Francis would bring the refreshment and create a diversion to lighten the atmosphere.
‘The doctor is a fellow who knows all about potions and lotions, you see,’ Walter explained, peering over his spectacle rims at the viscount. ‘My daughter Beatrice mentioned we have a physic garden and Colin expressed an interest in taking a look at our stock of plants. Feverfew and borage are what he is after, by all accounts, since the slugs and rabbits made a mess of his.’ He peered lengthily at his younger daughter before again removing his spectacles and folding them neatly. ‘Why do you not take your guest for a stroll and join them outside?’
