A Rogue to Ruin (The Pretenders #3) - Darcy Burke Page 0,61
head. “Mallory. Oh bother, when will their names be settled?”
“I don’t know about the earldom.” Anne had been too distracted to ask how things were going on that front. The current earl would almost certainly ask her when she spoke with him, and she would have nothing to say. Which was fine with her. “I will try to solicit Lorcan’s help. This transition is very hard for his father. I do hope he and Rafe can find an accord. They’re family, after all.”
“You know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Families can be terrible to each other.” Jane’s bitterness toward their parents, especially their father, had lessened over the past few weeks, but there was a hurt Anne wasn’t sure would ever go away.
“In this case, neither my godfather nor Rafe did anything to harm the other so I hope they will be able to move forward. Would you mind hosting a dinner for the three of them? And us of course. I thought it might be best to get together on neutral ground.”
“An excellent idea,” Jane said. “Just them and Sandon, sorry, Lorcan? Not Deborah?”
“No, Rafe asked if we could exclude her, and I can’t say I blame him.”
“Me neither.” Jane wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never liked her. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I am well aware she aggravates most people. She seems to like doing that.” In fact, Anne was surprised she’d hadn’t yet stirred up trouble for Beatrix or Selina by bringing up their acquaintance at boarding school.
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem to host a dinner. I’ll speak with Anthony. I assume you’d like to do it sooner rather than later?”
“Yes, please.”
Jane nodded. “I won’t tell Anthony about your excursion on Monday, just as I didn’t tell him about the first time.”
“I’m not asking you to lie to him,” Anne said. She would never want to come between her sister and her husband.
“I know. But this is your private business, and he would understand that.” She took Anne’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t let Stone, Mallory, whatever you call him, take anything you aren’t willing to give.”
Anne would give him anything. He already had her heart.
Jane spoke to Anthony straightaway, and he readily agreed to host a dinner for Rafe and his newfound family. Shortly thereafter, Anne and Jane arrived at Anne’s godfather’s house on Bruton Street just outside Berkeley Square.
His butler admitted them upstairs to the drawing room, and the soon-to-be-former earl joined them after a few minutes. Unfortunately, Lorcan was not at home. Anne had hoped he would be present for this conversation.
Her godfather smiled at them as he entered, but the usual brightness was missing. There were deep lines etched into his forehead and around his mouth, as if he’d spent the last week frowning since learning his time as the earl would soon come to an end.
“I’ll let the two of you speak in private,” Jane said.
The earl’s brows shot up briefly in surprise. “Thank you. There’s a chamber through there.” He pointed at a doorway.
Jane inclined her head and shot an encouraging look at Anne before leaving.
Anne sat down in a dark, puce-colored chair with polished wood arms. Her godfather took the identical chair angled nearby.
“Are you well?” Anne asked with concern. “You haven’t been far from my thoughts.”
“Thank you, my dear.” He grimaced. “It’s been a trying week.”
“I’m certain it has. I was hoping Lorcan would be here too.”
“Lorcan?” he asked, sniffing. “He’s still Sandon for the time being. Are you not thinking of me as the earl anymore?”
“You have always been and will continue to be my godfather.” Anne worried this was going to be even more difficult than she’d anticipated.
“Hmm. Will you think of him as the earl? My nephew?”
“When the title is his, yes.”
He harrumphed and looked away for a moment. When he returned his gaze to Anne, there was a frigidity that made her flinch. “Should it be? I have considered whether I ought to contest his claim.”
Anne stared at him. She had not expected this. “But it’s his birthright.”
“He wasn’t raised to be the earl. We know next to nothing about his character. He may be ill-suited to the rank.”
“It’s his birthright.” She knew she was repeating herself, but it was apparently necessary. “You can’t decide if he should be the earl or not.”
“That’s what the Committee for Privileges must do,” he said, flicking a speck from his knee. “They will decide if he’s worthy.”