Abandoned to the Prodigal - Mary Lancaster Page 0,70
no attention. He was busy at the sideboard, loading up his plate.
“Indeed, Lady Juliet,” Tabetha was declaring, “I must in all conscience advise you to go home as soon as you have breakfasted. Colin and I shall accompany you.”
“Of course,” Colin agreed.
“I’m afraid I cannot go home,” Juliet said firmly. “But if it is difficult for me to remain here…”
“It isn’t difficult at all,” Dan said, closing the door. “His lordship is happy to welcome Lady Juliet. In fact,” he added, catching her eye, “he wants to see you after breakfast.”
Her eyes widened and began to sparkle with curiosity. No one in the neighborhood had seen “Baron Miserly” in years. More to the point, it took the wind out of his aunts’ sails, and Colin finally released her hand. Or she drew it away, it was difficult to tell which.
“Come and have breakfast,” Jenny said, indicating the sideboard.
Juliet turned with her, though she cast a fleeting glance up at Dan as she went.
“Did you even speak to my father?” Tabetha demanded. “Why would he agree to such a thing?”
“To annoy Lord Cosland, of course. And you, Aunt Hetty, and my mother, are all here to play hostess, so there can really be no objection.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down, hoping to God that he was right.
But now that he had done everything practical to ensure she was safe here, he could acknowledge the emotions swirling beneath. She had come straight to him in her trouble. Not to older or better friends. It made him proud, triumphant, and terrified. And more than that, determined to protect her.
Chapter Seventeen
Juliet knew she had not thought this through. She had sought out Dan from sheer instinct, and he had not disappointed her. But she had not considered difficulties like the rest of his family, like the old tyrant in his sickbed who terrified his whole household—with the possible exception of Dan—and had been her father’s enemy for more than twenty-five years.
Still, the house and its inhabitants held their own fascination. The interior resembled the outside, in terms of neglect. The carpets and curtains were worn, the windows grimy, the hallways dusty, and the servants sparse and mostly old. But as she climbed the stairs with Dan and Mrs. Stewart to visit Baron Miserly himself, it struck her that beneath the dirt and the mustiness, the house was really rather beautiful. The proportions were pleasing, the wood paneling very fine, and the staircase quite gracious. She imagined herself in a Mrs. Radcliffe novel and smiled.
Which was not, she suspected, the reaction of most people on entering the domain of the fearsome old gentleman.
An ancient valet opened the door and bowed creakily.
The baron was seated in an armchair by the fireplace, dwarfed by the huge, ornate dressing gown he was wrapped in. Only the fierce eyes under shaggy white brows denied the first impression of weakness.
His gaze whipped over Dan, lingered on Juliet, and then he snarled quite unexpectedly, “What the devil is she here for?”
Warned by the entire family, Juliet had been prepared for rudeness, but the injustice of this took her breath away.
“He doesn’t mean you,” Dan assured her. “He is complaining about my mother’s presence, though he knows perfectly well she came to keep the proprieties.”
“Ha!” Lord Myerly said with derision. “Jenny playing propriety? Who’d have thought it?”
“I would,” Juliet said. “Mrs. Stewart has shown me every kindness.”
“Not surprised,” snapped the old man. “Two peas in a pod from what I hear.”
“We’ll come back when he’s in a better mood,” Dan said, turning and indicating the door. “Although we may have a long wait.”
“You will,” Lord Myerly agreed, surely with a hint of amusement. “So, you might as well stay. Hmm, so, you are Cosland’s girl? Never thought to be giving refuge to one of his brood.”
“I’m grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Juliet said politely.
“Are you, by God?” He waved a stick at the chair opposite. “Sit and let me look at you… Pretty little thing, aren’t you? I suppose they’ll all be vying for you now, the way they were for Myerly.”
“Don’t be vulgar, Grandfather,” Dan said. “Lady Juliet is used to a courteous household.”
“Then what’s she doing here?” the old man demanded. “I don’t recall Cosland being so damned courteous, do you, Jenny?”
“Lord Cosland and I are friends,” Mrs. Stewart said, sitting in one of the more distant chairs. Juliet found herself glad that Dan stayed beside her.