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***
Robin had sent a messenger to the house to ready it for company before he’d left for… wherever it was he’d gone. But that didn’t help Finn at the moment. Evidently, they’d arrived before the messenger did. None of the staff greeted them at the door. Where the devil were they? Mr. Ross should at least be nearby. He never left his post. And Mrs. Ross, the cook-housekeeper, should have been there to greet them as well. Blast and damn. Finn moved to pull off his gloves but changed his mind. It was damn cold in the house. And dark. And empty.
“Hullo,” he called. His voice echoed around the empty foyer.
“Looks like no one is home. Let’s head back to London,” Miss Thorne chirped. She started back toward the door.
“Something is wrong,” Finn murmured to himself. “Wait here,” he muttered as he started toward the kitchen. Certainly someone would be in the kitchen. But that room was empty as well. “Where the devil is everyone?”
“It appears as though your house isn’t quite ready for company,” Miss Thorne said, a satisfied smile on her face. “I believe we should make the trip back before the weather gets any worse.”
Just then, the back door opened and a tall man stepped through it. He had an apple clenched between his teeth and bit into it viciously. He stopped short when he saw Finn and Miss Thorne standing there. “Beg your pardon,” he said around the mouthful of apple. He held up one finger as he chewed and swallowed so hard that Finn could hear the gulp across the room. “My lord,” he finally croaked out. He bent at the waist, and that was when Finn finally recognized him.
“Benny?” Finn asked. That man with shoulders as broad as the doorway couldn’t possibly be Benny Ross, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Ross. The last time he’d seen Benny… He couldn’t remember the last time.
“Yes, my lord,” the young man said. “It’s a brisk day, isn’t it?”
If brisk meant cold enough to freeze a man in his tracks, yes, it was. “Where are your parents?” Finn asked. “Did you receive the notice that I would be arriving?”
“Yes, my lord. We received it. That’s why I’m here. Papa took a fall down a flight of stairs a few days ago.” He held up a hand when Finn began to protest. “Don’t worry. He’s going to recover. Just got a nasty bump on the head and a sprained ankle. He’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“And Mrs. Ross?” Finn asked. Certainly she was on the premises.
“She has refused to leave Papa’s side.”
This wasn’t good. Not good at all. He had a house with no servants. An offended faerie and a house with no servants.
“That settles it,” Miss Thorne chirped. “We’ll be going back to London.” She waved at Benny and said, “It was nice meeting you.”
Benny looked to Finn for confirmation. “You’ll be leaving, then?”
Benny looked much too happy about that. “No,” Finn sighed. “We’ll be staying.”
“I was about to say, you don’t want to get caught in this storm.” Benny parted the kitchen curtains to look out. “It looks to be a nice one.”
“Is there anyone else who can come and take care of the house? One of your sisters, perhaps?” If Finn wasn’t mistaken, Benny had five sisters, all of whom were older than he was.
Benny flushed. “Oh no, my lord. Papa suggested that, and Mama said it wasn’t a good idea. What with you being a bachelor and all.”
Mrs. Ross thought he would defile one of their daughters? He shrugged. One of them was quite attractive.
“But I’ll be here for you. Mama sent a cold lunch. And I’ll go back and get the evening meal before the storm sets in fully.” He looked quite pleased with himself. He pointed toward the front door. “Shall I go and take care of the horses?”
“Build a fire, first, will you?” It was growing colder by the second. Even the kitchen, which was always hot as blazes, was cold enough to make his face numb. “In the sitting room, the library, and the bedchamber.”
Benny’s brow rose. “One bedchamber, my lord?”
Finn nodded. “Yes, just one.”
***
One bedchamber? Was the man daft? There was no possible way Claire was going to share a bedchamber with him. “Have you lost your senses?” she hissed as Benny stalked out of the kitchen toward the front of the house. “I will not share a bedchamber with you.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Miss Thorne,” Lord Phineas drawled. “Trust me, the idea of it doesn’t settle well with me, either.”
He didn’t like the idea of sharing a bedchamber? She highly doubted that. A small part of her was momentarily offended by his comment. She’d been told she had striking features. “Why don’t you want to share a bedchamber with me?” she asked impulsively. She wanted to bite the words back as soon as they left her mouth.
“I tend to favor a warm bed partner, Miss Thorne. Not a cold one.” He stalked past her and into the corridor.
