Emboldened by that thought, she entered the empty yard that adjoined the kennels, a limestone structure at the other end. The yard, too, was surrounded by limestone—high walls meant to keep the hounds in when they were dashing about.
At once she spotted her brother leaning on his cane and speaking to the Master of the Hounds, Mr. MacTilly. She closed the gate behind her, so no dogs could escape.
When Mr. MacTilly saw her coming, he halted his conversation to tip his hat to her. “A good day to ye, miss. Come to take some of the wee beasties for a walk, are you?”
“That . . . and to speak to my brother.”
Joshua swiveled to face her, his weathered face wrought in a frown. “What about?”
“And a cheery good morning to you, too,” she said acidly. “You must have risen quite early. If you came home last night at all.” When Joshua’s frown deepened, she cast Mr. MacTilly a meaningful glance, who hastily said, “I’ll go gather the hounds most in need of exercise,” before hurrying off into the building itself.
“What do you want, Beatrice?” Joshua asked.
“Aside from desiring to know where you were last night that had you coming in so late I never saw you?”
His face closed up. “I had things to attend to in Leicester.”
Leicester was three hours away by post. He’d been making frequent trips there in the past few months, for no reason she could see. “Oh, and what might those things be?”
“None of your concern.”
“Joshua—”
“I don’t have time for one of your inquisitions!” When she stiffened, he rubbed his hand over his face. “Just tell me what you need, all right? So I can get on with my work.”
What she needed was to hear why he’d been disappearing to Leicester for several nights in the past year, but she’d asked before, and “none of your concern” or something of that ilk was all he ever said. She would worry he spent the time drinking in one of the taverns, except that he never smelled of spirits and there were taverns in Sanforth he could go to more easily. So what was he up to that required such secrecy?
It didn’t matter. That wasn’t why she was here, anyway. Let him keep his secrets, as long as they didn’t involve her. “I need to talk to you about something concerning our aunt and cousins.”
He muttered an oath. “I went to the funeral as you demanded, even though you know I’d rather bite off my tongue than go to such an affair. So, in my estimation, I’ve more than met my obligations to our relations.”
Egad, sometimes the man was so testy it made her insane. “Well, just barely, since you didn’t even come back to the house after the funeral to speak to my aunt or the other ladies.” When he bristled, she added hastily, “But don’t get your dander up. I’m not asking you to do anything more for them.” She thrust her hands behind her back to hide how her fingers were already forming fists. “I merely need to inform you of something they’re planning to do for me. Unless the gentlemen already mentioned it yesterday?”
His frown vanished. “No, no one mentioned anything. Thankfully, they spoke to me very little.”
“I can’t imagine why,” she said dryly. “You’re always so amiable in company.”
To her surprise, he laughed, which was rare enough that it heartened her. Perhaps this would go better than she’d feared.
“Anyway,” she went on, forcing some softness into her voice, “Aunt Lydia wishes to help me have a come-out. Along with Lady Gwyn.”
His amusement vanished as myriad other emotions washed his face, none of them readable, even to her. “A come-out,” he said dully. “In London society.”
“Of course, ‘in London society.’ Where else would it be? It’s hardly considered a come-out if I show up at an assembly in Sanforth, not that I ever could, since you won’t accompany me.”
“Your precious aunt Lydia could accompany you,” he said snidely. “Or even that Lady Gwyn woman, now that they both live at Armitage Hall.”
She stepped close to hiss, “Before long, they may be living in our house, and we may be living in the street. Once Sheridan takes a wife, he might wish to move Aunt Lydia into the dower house. And then where will we be?”
Looking away, he rubbed his hand over his stubbled chin.
“At least I am trying to endear myself to them,” she went on. “Not that it’s any great