Page 80 of The Summer Country

“Robert?” Charles couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed the door open, stepping into the room, arresting Robert mid-rant. Across the room, Jenny grimaced at him. Charles ignored the warning and concentrated on Robert. “Mrs. Boland was wondering if you might mix more of your famous punch.”

Mary Anne moved toward Charles with thinly veiled relief, her diamond earrings swinging against her dark curls. “I’ll do it. Your brother”—she made the words sound like a slur—“always puts too much lemon in.”

“Not so fast.” Robert grabbed Mary Anne’s arm, pulling her into a punitive embrace. “Someone told me they saw my wife’s maid at the overseer’s house at Peverills last week. What was my wife’s maid doing at the overseer’s house at Peverills?”

Charles froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No? If her maid was there, I’ve a pretty good idea my wife was there too. And do you know who else someone saw going in? You, brother. You.”

“Of course I was there,” Charles said, trying to keep his voice level. “The new overseer arrives in two weeks. There were repairs to be seen to. . . .”

“And precisely where were you placing the screw, brother?”

“Stop embarrassing yourself and me,” said Mary Anne sharply. “I’ve no idea what you’re on about. When was this supposed tryst?”

“Tuesday afternoon,” Robert shot back.

“Tuesday afternoon,” spat Mary Anne, glaring at her husband, “I was asleep in my bed, alone. Queenie was sitting with me. You can ask her.”

“And how would I know she wouldn’t lie for you?”

“Would she risk disobliging her master?”

“Oh, am I master here? I thought you’d forgot.” Robert folded his arms across his chest, swaying slightly on his feet. “If you were here, then what was your maid doing at Peverills?”

“Whoever told you that was mistaken,” said Charles, moving to stand between Robert and Mary Anne. “It was one of the maids from Peverills your friend saw. I had her in to clean for the new man.”

Robert regarded him suspiciously. “They said it was Mary Anne’s girl.”

“One woman in an apron and cap looks much like another,” Charles said lightly, the words like glass on his tongue. He was all too aware of Jenny behind him, half-hidden by bed curtains.

Robert looked narrowly at Charles, or as narrowly as he could with his eyes half-crossed. “He said he heard . . . you know.”

“Is that so unusual? You’ve said it yourself, a man would have to be a saint not to take what’s offered. I’m no saint, Robin.”

That was almost enough to appease Robert. Almost. For a moment, his face lit. “My high-and-mighty brother, sampling dark fruit! The colonel always said you would sooner or later.”

Charles resisted the urge to plant a leveler on his brother’s chin. “As you see,” he said tightly, “your suspicions are unfounded.”

It was a mistake to remind him. His expression darkening, Robert turned to his wife. “Whatever it was, I don’t like that maid of yours.”

Mary Anne’s color was high in her cheeks. “Jenny didn’t do anything. Didn’t you hear Charles? It was a mistake. You’re making a fool of yourself and me.”

Robert swayed on his feet, his eyes on Jenny. “You’re too thick. It isn’t right. Someone’s got to remember who’s master here. Don’t like it.”

“Oh no.” Mary Anne stepped in front of Jenny, facing her husband down. “Jenny is mine. She’s mine and you won’t take her from me.”

“She’s mine to sell if I please,” retorted Robert belligerently.

This wasn’t how they’d planned it, but he’d take what he could. Charles clasped his hands behind his back, trying to hide the sudden racing of his heart. “I’ll buy her off you. If you’re selling.”

“We’re not,” said Mary Anne fiercely, just as Robert said, “Oh?”

“We could use a new housekeeper at Peverills,” Charles said rapidly. “Old Doll is getting on. . . .”

“Not Jenny.” Mary Anne clutched at Robert’s arm, forcing him to look down at her. “I won’t give up my Jenny.”

For a moment, no one spoke, all eyes fixed on Robert.