Page 26 of The Heir

“Are you threatening your own father, Westhaven?” The duke thumped his glass down, hard.

“I am assuring him,” the earl replied softly, “if he attempts even once more to violate my privacy, I will make him regret it for all of his remaining days.”

“Violate your…? Oh, for the love of God, boy.” The duke turned to go, hand on the door latch. “I did not come here to argue with you, for once. I came to tell you it was well done, getting your brother to Fairly’s, reminding him what… Never mind. I came with only good intentions, and here you are threatening me. What would your dear mama think of such disrespect? Of course I am concerned; you are past thirty, and you have neither bride nor heir nor promise thereof. You think you can live forever, but you and your brother are proof that even when a man has decades to raise up his sons, sometimes the task is yet incomplete and badly done. You aren’t without sense, Westhaven, and you at least show some regard for the Moreland consequence. All I want is to see the succession secured before I die, and to see your mother has some grandchildren to spoil and love. Good day.”

He made a grand, door-slamming exit and left his son eyeing the decanter longingly. When a soft knock came a few minutes later, the earl was still so lost in thought, he barely heard it.

“Come in.”

“My lord?” Mrs. Seaton, looking prim, cool, and tidy, strode into the room and gave him her signature brisk curtsy. “The luncheon hour approaches. Shall we serve you on the terrace, in the dining parlor, or would you like a tray in here?”

“I seem to have lost my appetite, Mrs. Seaton.” The earl rose from his desk and walked around to sit on the front of it. “His Grace came to call, and our visit degenerated into its usual haranguing and shouting.”

“One could hear this,” Mrs. Seaton said, her expression sympathetic. “At least on His Grace’s part.”

“I was congratulated on dragging my little brother to a brothel, for God’s sake. The old man would have fit in wonderfully in days of yore, when bride and groom were expected to bed each other before cheering onlookers.”

“My lord, His Grace means well.”

“He will tell you he does,” the earl agreed. “Just being a conscientious steward of the Moreland succession. But in truth, it’s his own consequence he wants to protect. If I fail to reproduce to his satisfaction, then he will be embarrassed, plain and simple. It’s not enough that he sired five sons, three of whom still live, but he must see a dynasty at his feet before he departs this earth.”

Mrs. Seaton remained quiet, and the earl recalled he’d sung this lament in her hearing before.

“Is my brother asleep?”

“He is, but he asked to be awakened not later than two of the clock. He wants to put in his four hours before repairing again to Viscount Fairly’s establishment.”

“I do believe my brother is studying to become a madam.”

Again, his housekeeper did not see fit to make any reply.

“I’ll take a tray out back,” the earl said, “but you needn’t go to all the usual bother… setting the table, arranging the flowers, and so forth. A tray will do, as long as there’s plenty of sweetened lemonade to go with the meal.”

“Of course, my lord.” She bobbed her curtsy, but he snaked out a hand to encircle her wrist before she could go.

“Are you unhappy with me?” he asked, eyeing her closely. “Bad enough His Grace finds fault with me at every turn, Mrs. Seaton. I am trying very hard not to annoy my staff as much as my father annoys me.”

“I do not think on your worst day you could be half so annoying to us as that man is to you. Your patience with him is admired.”

“By whom?”

“Your staff,” she replied. “And your housekeeper.”

“The admiration of my housekeeper,” the earl said, “is a consummation devoutly to be wished.”

He brought her wrist to his lips and kissed the soft skin below the base of her thumb, lingering long enough that he felt the steady beat of her pulse.

She scowled at him, whirled, and left without a curtsy.

So much, the earl thought as he watched her retreat, for the admiration of his housekeeper.

Four

“I never did ask if you successfully completed your errands this morning.” Westhaven put aside his copy ofThe Timesas Anna set his lunch tray before him.

“I did. Will there be anything else, my lord?”

He regarded her standing with her hands folded, her expression neutral amid the flowers and walks of his back garden.