Page 137

“Yes. I know that in youth one holds a name cheap, but believe me, young Edward Litton, when one is an adult, one’s priorities change,” the earl said dryly.

"But I do not wish to talk of these things. I wish to tell you how I punished myself for failure to listen to my father, tutor, gamesmen, and grooms. One day I, too, decided to climb one of those big fruit trees in the orchard. Like you, Edward, I climbed as high as I was able and then beyond that. And like you, too, I became stuck. Unfortunately, I did not have anyone to help me down. I was forced to free myself, and the result was my punishment. I fell.”

“From way up there?” Edward squeaked.

“What happened?” Bertram demanded.

“I broke my arm. I was lucky I didn’t do more damage, though I confess I felt as if I had.

For what seemed like a long while, I lay on the ground under that tree, waiting for someone to help me.

But no one knew where I was. Finally, I was forced to get to my feet and return home, cradling my arm as best I could.

A hue and cry was raised, and the doctor was sent for to set the bone. Unfortunately, he was away.”

“That was luck,” claimed Bertram, nodding his head knowingly.

Jane frowned at Bertram, but the earl merely laughed.

"Bad luck, I’d say. My arm was broken, and the bone had to be set.

By the time it was decided to proceed without the doctor, my entire arm was swollen and painful to the slightest touch.

The only person who had any experience with broken bones was Wilcox, the head groom.

He plied me with liquor, which I thought a great treat at my age, and then had some of the other men from the estate hold me down while he pulled the arm straight to line up the bones. Then he splinted it tightly.”

“Were your parents away, like ours?” Edward asked.

“My father was seldom at Royceland Hall. Mother went visiting so she wouldn’t have to hear my screams.”

Jane pursed her lips at the wealth of emotions evoked in that last sentence.

Bells clanged in her head, warning her that there were hidden, untold depths to the earl that might impinge upon the rumors that so freely circulated about him.

She found herself leaning forward in her chair, hanging on to every word of his recital.

“Despite Wilcox’s rough methods,” Lord Royce continued lightly, a rueful smile curving his thin lips, “he did a good job of setting the bone. Even impressed the doctor when he saw me later. Breaking a bone was not, however, an experience I wished to repeat, then or now.”

Edward shuddered slightly as he sat staring at his arms. "I don’t think I like tree climbing anymore,” he said vehemently.

The earl laughed."You would have been fine had you not climbed so high. The trick to enjoying life and surviving is becoming aware of your limitations. Unfortunately, that is often easier to tell someone than to do, as I know full well.”

“If you say so.”

“I think it’s all a hum. He’s just telling us what he thinks Aunt Jane wants us to hear,” declared Bertram, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look worldly-wise at eight.

“I beg your pardon,” Lord Royce said coolly. "I just met your aunt today. Why would I do that?”

Bertram looked at him in disgust. "Because you’re sweet on her. All gentlemen are sweet on her. That’s what I heard her and Aunt Elsbeth saying when they came here.”

“Bertram!” admonished Lady Elsbeth, coloring almost as pink as Jane.

Laughter danced in Lord Royce’s eyes, though he maintained an impassive expression.

"I see your point, but I beg you will take a moment to reflect. I am older than she and nearly without a feather to fly with, certainly not eligible to join her long list of suitors. And truthfully, you know,” he said, his voice dropping conspiratorially, “she looks at me as one of my old maiden aunts used to do like I am some multilegged, ugly creature that crawled out from under a rock. No humor at all.”

“My lord, that is unjust!”

“See how she cuts up all stiff and cold? I’ll wager she doesn’t talk to you like that."

The boys laughed, delighted to be treated as equals. Outrage kept Jane silent, though her light green eyes shimmered with anger.

Lady Elsbeth raised a lace-edged handkerchief to her lips to hide a smile. "Bertram, Edward, if you’re finished with your berries, I suggest you return to the schoolroom. Nurse Twinkleham is waiting,” she said, taking pity on her niece.

The boys rose reluctantly and bowed to their aunts and the earl.

At the door, Bertram turned back to the earl.

"You’re a great gun, my lord. And don’t worry about Aunt Jane ’cause she’s a great gun, too,” he confided in a grown-up, man-to-man fashion.

Grinning cheekily, he gave a jaunty little hop-skip and followed his brother out of the room.

“You must not mind Bertram, Jane. Miss Bailee’s desertion affected him profoundly. I believe he is merely hedging his bets that you shall not also desert him,” Lady Elsbeth said after the door closed behind the children.

“I judge the lad is suffering from a surfeit of feminine skirts,” drawled Lord Royce.

Jane could not help but agree with the earl’s assessment.

"I believe it to be particularly galling since Penwick Park is accoutered with all manner of sporting equipment. Unfortunately, Edward is too young to enjoy it with Bertram, and the only other neighborhood boy, being almost a full head taller than Bertram, has the attitude of a bully. Upon my brother-in-law’s return, I shall advise that he replace Miss Bailee with a tutor, a young man more inclined to encourage and channel Bertram’s energies. ”

Lord Royce agreed with her, stayed a few minutes longer exchanging pleasantries, then took his leave.

Jane Grantley watched him depart for the third time that day, her black brows drawn thoughtfully together.

This time her feelings were uncertain. If she had not been aware of his history, she would have sworn he came solely for the children.

His manner after they quitted the room lacked the ease he had displayed in their presence.

It was as though the earl liked children!

Impossible. Everyone talked of how shabbily he had treated his son by refusing to legitimize him, though the child was of gentle birth.

There were rumors that the boy died at three years of age due to abuse or neglect. The man was an enigma.

Nonetheless, while she could be thankful for his kindness to her nephews, the memory of the way he’d carried her out of the briar patch and his subsequent claim of his prize brought a return of high color to her cheeks.

The Earl of Royce was a mannerless lout trading upon his title for acceptance.

Well, she did not believe a title excused rude, forward behavior!

Suddenly aware of a prolonged silence in the room, Jane glanced at her aunt, catching her thoughtful regard.

Jane dropped her eyes and shifted uneasily in her chair, making a show of pouring more tea into her cup from the Meissen porcelain pot on the table next to her.

Relaxing back in her chair, she turned to smile at Elsbeth, her composure finally intact. She calmly sipped her tea.

The brew was distastefully tepid.