Chapter Four

The following morning Lady Belmont received a note from Lord Stoneridge: Lady Belmont was to be in no hurry to remove to the dower house. She must remain at Stoneridge Manor until the dower house was furnished and decorated exactly as she wished it to be. He would accept her kind invitation to take up residence at the manor in two days, when his servant and baggage had arrived from London. Until then he was her obedient servant, Stoneridge.

"Reprieve," breathed Theo when her mother had read out the note at the breakfast table. "Surely we can be gone from here in two days, Mama."

"But it'll be wretchedly uncomfortable with the painters and carpenters everywhere," Emily protested. "And Mama is to order new curtains and covers for the drawing room. We'll be living in a goldfish bowl until they're completed."

"It's high summer," Theo said, buttering a piece of toast. "We don't draw the curtains anyway."

"I'll have to move my museum," Rosie said, tapping the shell of a boiled egg. "It's very delicate. The snake skeleton has broken twice already, and I had to stick it together. And there are the birds' eggs. I can't think how to transport it all." She looked up from her egg with a worried frown.

"We'll pack it up very carefully in boxes," Clarissa said soothingly.

"And we'll carry it by hand down the drive," Theo added. "Nothing's going to be broken."

"That's all right, then," Rosie said matter-of-factly, returning to her egg. "I shan't mind moving in that case."

"Neither shall I," Theo declared. "Please, Mama, can't we leave before Stoneridge moves in?"

Elinor refilled her teacup. "There is not the slightest need for us to do so, dear. Lord Stoneridge is being most accommodating."

"Yes, much more than anyone would have expected of a Gilbraith," Clarissa said. "I own I quite like him now. He has a sweet smile in spite of that scar."

Yes, Theo thought, a sweet smile with shark's teeth. She looked helplessly round the table.

"I don't see why you should worry now, Theo," Emily said. "Lord Stoneridge has withdrawn his suit. He won't trouble you again."

How to explain that his very presence troubled her to such an extent she couldn't have a clear thought? How to explain that she knew absolutely that the earl had declared open season and she was his quarry, whatever he might say in public? How to describe those kisses and what happened to her when her body was pressed to his?

It couldn't be explained. She pushed back her chair. "Excuse me, Mama. I have to go into the village."

"Any special reason?" Elinor inquired with a smile. "Something I can help with?"

"No, no errand of mercy," Theo said, going to the door. "I have to put in our order with Greg at the Hare and Hounds. The Gentlemen ride tonight."

Elinor folded her napkin carefully. "Don't you think you should perhaps consult Lord Stoneridge now, Theo? He may have his own choices for his cellar."

Theo flushed; then she said, "Lord Stoneridge may do as he pleases. But we have the dower-house cellars to look after. At this point they stand empty."

"Very well, but remember that we have limited funds. You can't order without a thought for money as you used to do with your grandfather," Elinor reminded her gravely.

"I'll remember." Theo left the room, controlling the urge to slam the door. Tears sheened her eyes – tears of anger as well as grief for her grandfather. Why had he left them nothing? Nothing but the dower house. Not a penny for dowries, all of which had to be found from their mother's jointure. It was fairly substantial, but not enough to live as they were accustomed. It was so unlike him. He'd been a crusty old curmudgeon, but never ungenerous. And he'd loathed Gilbraiths. Yet he'd abandoned his son's family and left every sou to a Gilbraith. And he'd abandoned her. It was a selfish rider, and yet she couldn't help it. He'd led her to believe she was special to him… as precious as his son had been. But he'd abandoned her.

She rode into the village half an hour later, her face taut, and dismounted in the stableyard of the Hare and Hounds. "How's your grandma, Ted?" she asked the groom who took her horse.

"Much better, thanks. Lady Theo," the lad said, touching his forelock. "Them 'ot poultices did wonders for 'er knees. Scrubbin' the kitchen floor she was last even."

"Well, I'm sure she shouldn't be," Theo said, forgetting her own troubles in this village issue. "Not at her age. What's your sister doing?"

"Oh, she jest sits b' the fire and moans," the lad said, grinning. "Belly's big as an 'ouse now. It's as much as she can do t' sit at table. Right lazy cow she is."

Theo, totally in agreement with this description, chose not to respond. "Is Greg in?"

"Aye… Gentlemen are ridin' this night."

"So they are, Ted." She winked at him, receiving a conspiratorial wink in return.

She went through the kitchens, greeting the staff, helping herself to an apple tartlet cooling on a rack on the table.

"You always was partial to my apple tartlets, Lady Theo," the cook said with a pleased smile. "So's young Lady Rosie. I'll pack up a few fer ye to take back to the manor when yer done with Greg."

"Thank you, Mrs. Woods." Theo went through to the taproom, deserted at this early hour. Greg was behind the bar, laboriously counting bottles.

"Morning, Greg."

"Mornin,' Lady Theo." He turned with a smile, revealing a few blackened teeth amid large gaps.

The street door was open, and sunlight poured across the uneven stone-flagged floor, scattered with sawdust. The air was heavy with the smell of pipe smoke and stale beer, and dust lay thick on the rough planking tables. Theo flicked at a bench with her gloves and sat down with easy familiarity.

"Come with yer order for the Gentlemen, then," Greg stated, coming round from the bar counter. "I've 'ad a good few this mornin', from Squire Greenham and the vicar… powerful fond of a drop of port is Vicar." He grinned, wiping his hands on his baize apron. "So what's the manor goin' to be needin' this run?"

Theo's race darkened. "I'm not ordering for the manor, Greg. It's not for me to do so -"

"On the contrary, cousin."

Startled, she twisted to look over her shoulder. The earl in riding dress stood in the doorway, tapping his whip into the palm of one gloved hand, his expression hard to read against the dazzling background of the sun.

"I thought you'd gone to London," Theo said.

"No… but I've sent for my servant and my traps. There's no need for me to accompany the message." He ducked his head to step beneath the low lintel. "Now, what's all this about not ordering for the manor?"

Greg was regarding the inn's guest with astonishment. "Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but you're not 'is lordship, are you?"

"Yes, he is, Greg. I can't imagine why Lord Stoneridge hasn't made himself known to you before this," Theo said coldly.

"Perhaps imagination isn't your strong point," the earl said, carelessly flicking her cheek with a fingertip as he perched on the edge of the table beside her.

Theo brushed at her cheek as if a fly had settled there and said pointedly, "You'll forgive me, my lord, but I have business to transact with Greg for the dower house cellars."

"I forgive you," he said with a bland smile, not moving from his perch. "And you'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I suggest that you also take care of the manor's needs at this time."

"Those needs are no longer my concern, sir."

"I think you will find that they are," he said, a hint of steel in his voice now, a cold glint in the gray eyes. "Have done with this nonsense, cousin."

Greg abruptly dived behind the bar counter, reemerging with a crusted bottle and three glasses. "A glass of burgundy," he suggested with a hearty chuckle. "Best eighty-nine vintage. It's the last bottle left of that consignment, but I'm hopin' the Gentlemen'll manage a few more this run."