said patiently, then broke off as Reyn and the servants entered the room. She rose in an instant. “Captain! This is a most unexpected visit.”
Reyn went to her and kissed her hand, something he’d not done in this sort of context. There was no secret squeeze or sweep of his tongue. “Lady Kelby, please forgive me in all my dirt. I was just passing, and remembered you wished to discuss the renovations of your stable block as soon as possible. Have I come at a difficult time?”
“Oh, no. You are always welcome. That is to say, I know how valuable your time is. If you could join us for tea, I’m sure we can discuss it once my guest and her son leave.”
Reyn glanced at the other inhabitants of the room. A youth had risen at his entry, a lad of no more than fifteen or sixteen whose plump cheeks had not yet seen a razor. Though he’d not lost his puppy fat, the boy was tall, with a mop of auburn hair and dark eyes. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar.
His mother remained seated. She was a faded blonde with a great deal too many curls for a woman her age, and possessed of an unremarkable figure. Her blue eyes settled on him with shrewdness. He felt a little like a chop in a butcher shop window.
“And who is this, Maris?”
Reyn saw Maris flinch at the use of her Christian name. “May I present my neighbor, Captain Reynold Durant? Captain, this is my niece-in-law, Mrs. Kelby and her son, Peter. My husband’s nephew David’s wife and son. My, what a mouthful that is.”
Reyn felt the room shift. “How very happy I am to meet you,” he said blandly. He found a seat before he fell into it. “I was not aware Mr. Kelby was married.”
“Do you know my husband?” From her tone, it was clear that any friend of David’s was an enemy.
“A passing acquaintance only. I met him at Kelby Hall when I was doing some work for the late earl.”
“What kind of work was that? Stable renovations? I saw no evidence of new construction when I was there.”
“Inventorying his antiquities collection. I regret to say I did not complete the task before the earl passed away. An opportunity arose to alter my career path, and so you find me the owner of Merrywood Farm. I raise horses.”
Though a trifle pale, Maris was pouring tea and passing plates as if she entertained David Kelby’s wife every day of the week. Reyn took a bracing gulp from his cup.
“Peter is horse-mad, aren’t you, darling?” The boy blushed as he bit into his seed cake. “We haven’t been able to afford a suitable mount for him, but all that will change now that David will be earl. God willing. No offense to you, Maris, but you must realize we pray for the delivery of a healthy girl.”
“Mrs. Kelby—Catherine—I do hope your wishes will come true,” Maris said, her voice soft.
“Well, I’m due something after the way David has treated me. Treated us,” she said as her son’s blush darkened. “And if my hopes are dashed, I can always move here. It’s nothing to Kelby Hall, of course, but better than the rectory, isn’t it, Peter? My father is a man of the cloth,” she added for Reyn’s benefit. “No doubt he’d miss us, but it is past time we had property of our own.”
Poor Peter said nothing, looking much like a chubby trapped fox.
Reyn saw his chance to assist. “I was under the impression, Countess, that Hazel Grange is not part of the entail. Didn’t your husband purchase it specifically for you and any daughters that might result from your marriage?”
“Exactly so, and that is what I’ve been trying to explain to C-Catherine. Hazel Grange is mine outright. Mr. Woodley can explain it all.”
“That fussy old woman?” Catherine Kelby scoffed. “He tried to turn me out of the Hall yesterday, but I know my rights. It is David’s family home, and we are David’s family, whether he acknowledges us or not. I have the marriage lines. No one will dare say my boy is a bastard.”
“Mama!” Peter Kelby was in agony.
“Stop interrupting, Peter. You’ve done nothing but contradict me at every turn today. What will the countess think? You’ve been most impertinent, talking out of turn.”
Pot, meet kettle. Reyn found Catherine Kelby outrageously outspoken. For a clergyman’s daughter, she was not meek or mild.
“Would you like another