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“Why doesn’t Captain Balfour wish to keep it? From what Betty has shared, it’s looking far nicer these days. Perhaps once he sees it …”
Ah. Betty who had recently been employed as one of Mannering’s cleaners and was also the daughter of Mrs. Cleever’s cook. “I’m given to understand that there may still be a few issues.”
“If he should happen to choose to marry someone of an eligible age”—her gaze swept Theo up and down, ensuring Theo knew who she didnotconsider eligible—“he might reverse his decision.”
Theo’s smile stiffened.
“My young daughters are happy not to have to forgo the company of Miss Rebecca, though I wonder if she has any idea as to when her uncle may finally appear?”
“I’m sure she knows as much—or as little—as I do.” A guilty laugh filled Theo’s throat. “If you’ll please excuse me.” She hastened away and advised Becky in hurried whispers of the imminent threat of questions from Mrs. Cleever, reminding of the need to be circumspect.
This conversation was in itself interrupted by an invitation to visit the solicitor’s family, which immediately prompted Becky’s pleas to attend.
Theo, as Becky’s chief guardian, could find no reason to refuse. “I’m sure you would enjoy such an outing. It has been a while since you have had opportunity to mix with your friends.”
“You are so good to me.” Becky gently squeezed Theo’s hand.
“Just remember to take care.” She raised her brows in a silent prompt to recall their interrupted conversation.
“Always.”
Somehow her mother had managed to invite the Bellinghams, now that the squire had returned, to partake of a dinner for the morrow, which would likely prove an interesting challenge to their desire to preserve the secrecy of their guest. She volunteered to pass on the news to her grandfather upon their return home. Visits to the general largely proved not such a pleasant task. Though his temper was exacerbated by his bouts with indigestion and gout, for some reason he never took kindly to being told he should refrain from imbibing quite so much in the way of rich foods and spirits.
Once home, she knocked on the library’s door and entered at the grunt she’d always taken as a sign that she might go in.
“I came to see if you should like some company.”
“I can think of nothing worse,” her grandfather grumbled.
“Then I shall be sure to tell the squire his visit is unwelcome on the morrow.”
“Giles is coming here? Well, I suppose I could do the pretty and be civil.”
“Mama and I would be most grateful. I know that Sir Giles enjoys speaking with you.”
“Because he’s surrounded by a bumptious wife and dunce of a son. He coming too?”
“Frederick? I imagine so.”
He snorted. “No need to look so woebegone, my dear. I can have a word with him if you don’t want him hanging around.”
“And send him off with a flea in his ear? I thank you, but no. Besides, I have no desire to make things uncomfortable for poor Mama.”
“She and Elvira have always been thick as thieves.” His brow lowered. “Elvira Bellingham is a gossip. You’ll want to stay well clear of her while Balfour is here.”
“That, unfortunately, cannot always be, as tomorrow night proves.”
“That woman has a way of ferreting things out,” he warned.
“And yet she is still to learn the truth of his identity, for which we remain grateful.”
He huffed. “Methinks it will prove only a matter of time.”
“I’m sure you are correct. But until then, we shall make the most of our little subterfuge.”
“Minx.”
His epithet drew a sparkling recollection of the way the captain had so referred to her, and she drew in a sharp breath to press down the emotion. “May I do anything for you?”
