was a woman. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Countess, your servant. You know you may depend upon me and my sister Virginia should any difficulty of any nature whatsoever arise. Just send us word. We’ll talk another time. I’ll tell Mr. Swift that you’re desirous of his company this morning when I see him. Good day to you, Mr.—Lord Kelby.”
Reyn hoped he’d given the impression of a friendly neighbor, a consummate gentleman. But he also wished to convey to Kelby that the countess was not isolated. She had champions, even if they were young servants, a country parson, and a faux scholar and his sister.
“Keep an eye on Kelby,” Reyn said to Aloysius as he left. “I have an odd feeling about the man. I don’t think he wishes the countess well.”
“Of course, sir! He threw me out of the breakfast room, he did, saying he had private matters to discuss with her ladyship. But I’ve been right outside, just in case. We remember what he was like, always sneaking around Kelby Hall. He’s not fit to fill the old earl’s shoes. All of us hope the countess has a fine bonny son. That’ll fix him.”
Or make their problems worse.
Chapter 29
Maris had bitten her cheek raw as Reyn ruffled David’s feathers with his neighborly attentions. She couldn’t really be angry with him for disregarding her wishes and coming into the house. Like some protective sheepdog, he’d made it very clear to David that she was not alone, even if he was stretching the truth by miles. She was as yet unacquainted with any of her neighbors save those at Merrywood.
“What a bore he is,” David drawled once Reyn left.
Maris buttered a piece of toast she did not want. Her stomach was still in knots. “Do you think so? He does seem very devoted to his horses. I do not know him very well, but his sister has been all that is kind since I moved here last month.”
“Jumped-up climbers, no doubt. And he’s in trade.”
“Horse breeding is perfectly respectable for a gentleman. And I believe they are in some way connected to the Marquess of Wayneflete, although they do not speak of it.” Henry had done an extensive family tree for Reynold Durant to make sure there would be a drop of bluish blood, no matter how diluted, in any future Earl of Kelby.
David snorted. “Wayneflete is as far up River Tick as one can go without drowning.”
“Thank goodness one cannot be judged by the behavior of one’s relations,” Maris said with deceptive sweetness. “Let’s get to the point, David. Why are you here again so soon?”
“I thought you might be missing me.”
Maris gave an unladylike snort. “Cut line, David. Is it money? Mr. Woodley has assured me you are receiving a most generous allowance while we wait.” Involuntarily, she placed a palm across her stomach. “You can’t have run through it already.”
“Oh can’t I have?” David muttered. “But it’s not about money. This time.” He shifted in his seat, radiating discomfort. Maris had never seen him when he was not in perfect control of his emotions, not that he’d ever displayed anything but pique and cunning heretofore. What could have caused this sudden glimpse into his humanity? Who would have thought he even had humanity?
She found she was curious. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t quite know where to begin.”
Maris stopped herself from saying “the beginning.” She decided not to make anything easier for the man who had brought such heartbreak to the house of Kelby.
The silence stretched. Maris added jam to her uneaten toast. Finally David sighed.
“There is a woman, you see.”
There would be. David had left a trail of broken hearts behind him all his life. Maris looked up from her plate expectantly.
“She may come to see you.”
“See me? Whatever for?” Maris did not relish acquaintance with one of David’s castoffs, even if she did have some sympathy for the woman’s plight.
“Well, here’s the thing. I’ve explained the bloody circumstances about the bloody earldom to her, but she doesn’t believe me.”
“Imagine that. Someone finds you untruthful.”
“Don’t take such pleasure in my ruin. The woman has her hooks in me and I cannot see a way out.”
He did look hunted, less ruddy and cocky. And could it be his russet hair was thinning just a little? “Have you made her a promise of marriage?”
“Not lately.” He sounded nearly . . . amused.
“I fail to see what I can do to help you, David. Not that I want to. Mr.