Page 14 of What Lies Beneath

“What have I told you about poking your nose into other people’s business?” Regina told the girl, tweaking that appendage as Tilly peered at the address on the parcel. Regina hurriedly put it away as Tilly stepped back, rubbing her nose.

“Sorry,” the girl said sheepishly. “Only do come. Mrs Morgan has made laverbread and cockle pancakes and whilst they are delicious when they’re hot, when they’re cold—”

Tilly pulled a face and Regina laughed.

“Very well, let us go at once! What a travesty to allow such a feast to go uneaten.”

When she had first arrived in Wales, Regina had baulked at the traditional Welsh delicacy, for the idea of bread made from seaweed and cockle pancakes was appalling, but in truth she had come to appreciate the unusual and salty start to the day. Especially when cooked by such a talented woman as Mrs Morgan, who could turn the simplest of ingredients into a feast.

Still, despite her words, Regina found herself dragging her feet as Tilly hurried her down to the breakfast parlour. She did not wish to see the earl again, not yet at least. They had not spoken since that night, not past a murmured ‘good day,’ or ‘good afternoon,’ as they passed each other going about their day. That he had requested she share breakfast with him and Tilly had her nerves jangling, and her heart quickened as she grew closer to the parlour. She told herself there was no need to be afraid, but even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t fear she was experiencing. No, it was far worse than that. It was anticipation.

Before she was ready, Tilly flung open the door and dragged Regina by the hand into the room.

“Here she is, Papa. You were right, she was hiding in the nursery.”

“Ah,” the earl said, setting down the newspaper he had been perusing and looking at Regina with the glimmer of a smile in his eyes. “Well done, Tilly.”

“I was not hiding,” Regina protested sharply, though that had been exactly what she’d been doing. Ashburton obviously knew it as well as she did, a fact he illustrated by quirking a pale blond eyebrow at her. Drat the man. “I had things to attend to,” she replied with dignity.

“She has a parcel to send, Papa, but she won’t tell me what it is,” Tilly added as the footman loaded her plate with a sausage, an egg, and two cockle pancakes. She then took two pieces of fried laverbread and reached for her knife and fork, blithely unaware of having dropped Regina into difficulty.

“I should think not. Curiosity killed the cat, my girl, and don’t you forget it,” Ashburton said mildly, but his gaze shifted to Regina. “I am going into town this afternoon. I would be happy to post the parcel for you.”

“Oh, no, my lord, but thank you all the same,” Regina said politely, hoping he would leave it at that.

“It’s no trouble,” he added.

“All the same. I would rather post it myself,” she replied, her voice firm.

“Why?” Tilly piped up around a mouthful of sausage.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Regina said automatically, allowing the footman to serve her the same selection as Tilly.

Obediently, Tilly chewed, swallowed, and then asked once more, “Why won’t you let Papa post your parcel?”

Regina cursed inwardly, but only smiled at Tilly. “Sometimes, there are things you wish to do by yourself.”

“Leave it, Tilly. Mrs Harris clearly has her reasons,” the earl warned his daughter, for which Regina was grateful, but he was not yet finished. “If you are set on posting it yourself, why don’t you and Tilly accompany me? You are most welcome to do so. I have some business to attend to, but we could meet for lunch and do some shopping in Monmouth before we return home.”

“Oh, what a splendid idea,” Tilly exclaimed, immediately delighted by the prospect. “We need to buy Christmas presents, don’t we, Papa?”

“I do not,” he remarked dryly, “having spent a small fortune whilst we were in London.”

“On me?” Tilly said, eyes wide.

“Who else?” the earl replied with a shake of his head.

“And did you get Mrs Harris a present too?” she asked innocently.

“Tilly!” Regina scolded, shaking her head. “Your father does not go around buying presents for his staff.”

“But he bought Mrs Morgan a present last Christmas, and he gave Kerridge a box of cigars for his birthday last month,” she added, naming the jovial little man who had joined the staff earlier in that year as butler. “Didn’t you, Papa?”

“I did, and you are quite correct, Tilly. I have been remiss, but do you know what Mrs Harris would like for Christmas?” he asked, with apparent sincerity.

“She loves books,” Tilly said, considering this. “But you let her read whatever she wants in the library, don’t you? But maybe she would like her own copy.”

“An excellent notion,” Ashburton agreed, but Tilly had now had a better idea.