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He wasn’t going to tell her the true reason. The less people knew about him, the better now that he’d reached his ancestral lands. “Curiosity. Wondering at the state of the place.”
“There might be others inside.”
He was winning her over, and a true pleasure it was. “I don’t think so. The stables are empty with the gig gone. And the shutters are closed on the upper floors.” In fact, Ferrington Hall looked as if it hadn’t had any careful attention in years. “My name’s Jack,” he added.
She tossed her head.
“It would be polite for you to give me your name now.”
“No, it would not. This is not a proper introduction.”
Certainly a society girl, Jack concluded. And yet he couldn’t resist. “Very well, I shall call you Miss Snoot.” He turned toward the house. “Are you coming along with me, Miss Snoot?”
“Do not call me that!” But she followed him.
Jack enjoyed the sound of her footsteps behind him. He enjoyed the thought of her trailing in his wake.
For the first time, he went right up to Ferrington Hall, his father’s birthplace, as he understood it. He peered through a tall window. He’d never seen such a large house. There were such mansions in America, but he hadn’t moved in those circles.
“The furniture is all under covers,” said his lovely companion. She’d put her nose to the glass right beside him.
“Those sheets spread over things, you mean?”
“Yes. No one can be living here.”
“Didn’t I say so?”
“I wonder what has become of the earl,” she murmured.
Jack stiffened. “What’s that?”
“The Earl of Ferrington. This is his house. He’s missing.”
“Is he now?”
“Yes. His great-grandmother Lady Wilton is concerned.”
“You don’t say so? Friend of hers, are you?” If she was, this would be the end, however pretty the girl was.
She frowned. “No. I havemether.”
“A lovely old lady, is she?”
His companion shook her head. “I would not describe her in those terms.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think anyone would.”
Perhaps it was all right. Jack wanted it to be all right. “What term would you use then?”
“Irascible?” She put a gloved hand to her lovely lips. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say…”
“Mean as a snake, is she?” Jack inquired, elated at the slip. A girl who didn’t like Lady Wilton had definite possibilities.
She pressed her lips together on what might have been a smile. But she didn’t answer.
“Shall we look in some other rooms?”
“We really shouldn’t.” But she moved along to another window.
They made their way around the house in this manner, Jack now and then saying, “After you, Miss Snoot.” Her indignant objections to this label were a pure pleasure.
