Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,97
in the room. He imagined Rowden looked exhausted and annoyed. Nash wasn’t certain what his father looked like. Was he scared? Determined? Angry? He wasn’t proud. It had been a long time since his father had been proud of him. The clearest memory of that pride was back in the time when the peacocks had arrived. Nash was certain there had been moments after that, but none so vivid and unassailable.
“My lord,” Nash said with a slight bow toward the shape of his father—a short, stocky man who was more muscle than fat. Nash remembered him having dark hair like his own, only with some gray at the temples. It was probably grayer now and the lines around his blue eyes probably deeper. “I regret I was indisposed earlier.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” his father said, dispensing with any pleasantries. “I walked in on you with a whore in your bed and you pointed a pistol at me.”
Nash clenched his fists. “She is not a whore.”
Silence dropped on the room, and for a moment Nash thought he could hear his own heart beating.
“That is the point you wish to discuss?” his father said, tone calmer. “Whether or not the woman in your bed is a wh—”
“She is not,” Nash interjected. “Miss Howard is the daughter of missionaries and under the care of the vicar of Milcroft.”
More silence. “Well, it seems not only are you shooting your friends, you are debauching the upstanding maidens of the village. I never took you for a rake, Nash.”
“I’m not a rake, my lord,” he answered. “I...care for her.” He’d almost said love, but he couldn’t quite make the word come out, and especially not now when his father was intent on locking him away for the rest of his life. There was no time to think about his feelings, about what he might lose if his father had his way.
“So you’ve found a village girl to entertain you. Wonderful. I thought you wanted to come to Wentmore to lick your wounds.”
“And I thought you were never speaking to me again!” Nash exploded. Unbidden, his hand went to his pocket. He needed to touch the pistol to keep his temper in check.
“That was because the last time we met you pointed a pistol at me!” his father yelled. “But that was before you burned down my country estate, fired at my solicitor, shot your friend, and debauched the vicar’s ward!”
“It seems to me,” Rowden said, voice calm and controlled, “that we have much to discuss and these accusations—on both sides—will only get in the way. If I might, Lord Beaufort, I would point out several items you might have missed upon your arrival.”
His father grunted.
“First of all, the kitchens have been repaired. They have also been updated and I do believe we have a delicious meal waiting for us if we ever stop screaming at each other.”
“I’d wager that is more due to your efforts than my son’s,” the earl said.
“I engaged the laborers, but Nash has been here every day to oversee the repairs.”
Nash wouldn’t have called what he did overseeing the repairs—especially since he couldn’t see—but he had been here and he supposed in the last days of the work, when issues had arisen, he had attended to them and resolved them. Funny how he hadn’t thought of that as progress. But the truth was, when the work had begun, he’d hidden in his room, hands over his ears. By the time it ended, he was moving about the house and handling any problems that arose.
“Second of all,” Rowden continued, “you will notice Nash and I have hired not only a valet but two footmen, a number of grooms, and he will soon be hiring a butler and cook.”
Nash wasn’t so certain about that, though he supposed Clopdon would hound him about the butler and unless Mrs. Blimkin was to continue coming several times a week, he would need a cook. Mrs. Brown was a competent enough housekeeper.
“Thirdly, I am actually glad you are here as you are in time to partake in the festivities on Saturday.”
“What festivities?” the earl asked.
“The autumn festival,” Nash said. “I have offered to host it this year. That is why we had landscapers and workmen about. They’re readying the grounds.”
“That is also why Miss Howard was at the house,” Rowden said. “She was helping with the arrangements for the celebration. She was initially engaged as a tutor for your son.”