Honor's Players - By Holly Newman Page 0,38

was just shy of being lascivious.

Tunning bowed; though his head stayed level enough for his eyes to remain upon Elizabeth. He licked his lips. “I am charmed, my lady,” he said smoothly.

Charmed, what an odd word for an employee to use. A chill passed over Elizabeth, and she wished she hadn’t teased St. Ryne so and had availed herself of a shawl.

St. Ryne witnessed Tunning's crude reaction to his wife’s near exposure. Damn the woman, was she lost to all sense of propriety? A curious possessive jealousy flared within his chest igniting a flame of craftiness.

“Here, my dear, you have been on your feet all this day overseeing the cleaning, please sit down.” He grabbed her elbow and propelled her to one of the chairs by the fireplace. With his free hand, he angled the chair away from the light of the fire then gently seated her. Her face was now in shadows, but to his chagrin he noted the light from the single small taper on the table by her elbow cast a glow upon her chest.

There was nothing for it but to emulate his mother. The Countess of Seaverness was the clumsiest woman of his acquaintance, probably in all England, yet through unbounded arrogance she ignored any destruction left in her wake.

“I’ll have Atheridge bring you some Madeira,” he said, swinging around sharply toward the bell pull. His momentum appeared to put him slightly off balance, and his hand shot out to break the imminent fall, knocking the candle off the table in its wake and sending globs of wax flying.

In an instant St. Ryne was on his knees, grabbing the candle and extinguishing its flame. “How absurdly clumsy of me. I do beg your pardon, my dear.”

St. Ryne faced the firelight, his back to Tunning. Elizabeth had no trouble seeing the mischief in his eyes, and her lips twisted to keep from laughing. “It has been a long day for both of us. No doubt we are both much fatigued.”

“No doubt,” he returned smoothly, replacing the candlestick on the table.

Elizabeth was now seated in shadows, and some of the tightness in St. Ryne’s chest released. He turned back to Tunning. “And now, my good man—”

Tunning coughed. “If it pleases, your lordship, I’ve a matter I’d like to bring to your attention.”

“Yes?” St. Ryne’s brow rose. He walked away from Elizabeth to sit behind the desk forcing Tunning to turn away from her as well.

“It’s about one of the tenant families, my lord. I think they should be replaced, they’re nothing but a pack of troublemakers.”

“Who are they? And why didn’t you say anything earlier today when we made the rounds?”

Tunning shifted uneasily, very aware of the fact that St. Ryne hadn’t asked him to sit as well. Maybe he didn’t have as complete an understanding of this dandy as he thought. “It’s the Humphries, my lord.”

“Humphries?” St. Ryne said in surprise.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Aren’t they at the Home farm?”

“Aye, but—”

“That is the only well-maintained and properly running farm on the estate!”

“I know, my lord, and that’s why I didn’t say anything afore. Truth is that appearance is deceptive and rooted in self-interest.” Tunning restively fingered his gold-filigreed watch chain.

“Self-interest!” St. Ryne laughed. “Self-interest like that brings in the rents.”

“Hold a moment, my lord, and let me say my piece,” he burst out gruffly, sweat glistening on the top of his bald pate.

Elizabeth and St. Ryne were surprised by his tone, albeit for different reasons. Elizabeth found the estate agent to be officious while St. Ryne surmised he was genuinely concerned about something.

“They’re rousing up the other tenants. They’ve got queer Republican notions and they’re inciting the others to revolt. Now I know,” he hurried on before St. Ryne could interrupt, “there have been Humphries at the Home farm for generations, but this lot’s bad blood. We’ll have trouble soon if they stay on. ”

St. Ryne frowned. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

Elizabeth stared at him. Was he seriously thinking of turning a whole family out simply on the word of this toad?

Tunning squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, my lord, it was because they keep up a good appearance that I hesitated to say anything and I also didn’t want you to think I didn’t know my business.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Truth is, I went over the books this afternoon and, though I hate to admit my own carelessness, it does appear they may be shorting you on the percentages—leastways in comparison with the other tenants. They’re not giving much