“I need a seat, lad.”
Kerrich hurriedly brought him a chair from before the desk.
Lord Reynard sank down on it. Then in as kind a tone as Kerrich had ever heard him use, Lord Reynard asked, “Child, what are you called?”
“I’m Elizabeth Hunter. Beth.” She curtsied without being told, but trembled at the attention focused on her.
“So, Beth, what do you think of my grandson? Are you like all women, and think he’s a young charmer?”
Beth’s eyes widened as if the question astonished her. “Oh, no, my lord. I don’t think he’s young at all.”
Miss Lockhart whipped her handkerchief out of her sleeve and hid her lips behind its ample folds. As if that could disguise her amusement at Kerrich’s expense!
Kerrich glowered directly at her, forcing her to meet his gaze, and when she did he experienced a shock. For he might consider this female a termagant, but when merriment shone from her eyes he found himself seeing the humor in the situation. Only the most celebrated of sirens could make a man laugh at himself, yet he found himself almost smiling back. Almost. By God, in the far distant past had Miss Lockhart been a femme fatale?
Lord Reynard paid heed to neither his grandson nor Miss Lockhart. “And my grandson’s certainly not a charmer, heh?”
“Well, I don’t know.” Beth scraped the carpet with her toe and looked bashful, making Kerrich wonder if he’d imagined her earlier fury on Miss Lockhart’s behalf. “He seems kinda—”
Miss Lockhart earned her pay for that day, at least, when she interrupted Beth’s disclosure. “Beth is yet so new to the household, she has scarcely had the pleasure of being showered by Lord Kerrich’s charms as the rest of us have.”
Kerrich barely refrained from wiping his brow. He could imagine how his grandfather would react if he knew Kerrich had accused a lady whose family had been among his acquaintances of dishonesty and deceit.
“However, Beth will get to know His Lordship, for Lord Kerrich will be spending part of each day in the nursery with Beth and me.”
Kerrich’s pleased regard faded. “What?”
Miss Lockhart pulled Beth close to her side and smiled down at her. “I don’t know if Lord Kerrich has told you the tale of this child, my lord, but her quick wit saved a very precious pocket watch from a nefarious pickpocket.”
Beth tried to protest. “But not—”
Gently Miss Lockhart laid her hand over Beth’s mouth. “I know, dear, you don’t like the praise, but you deserve it.” She beamed at Kerrich. “Just as Lord Kerrich deserves praise for so honorably bringing Beth into his home.”
Lord Reynard slapped Kerrich on the shoulder. “Quite right, lad. Admirable thing to do.”
The old man knew very well this was overly generous; why didn’t he point out that a simple reward or a job in the kitchen would do as well? His admiration boded ill. It boded very ill indeed.
“So, Beth, you deserve the chance to get to know Lord Kerrich. He is, after all, in your debt.” Miss Lockhart eased her hand away from Beth’s mouth, and when Beth remained mute, Miss Lockhart said to Lord Reynard, “Lord Kerrich has been most insistent that he show his appreciation for his little heroine by getting to know her and taking her to all the wondrous entertainments London has to offer.”
Kerrich smiled, but with tightly clenched teeth. “But I had also expressed my concern that, as a businessman, I cannot spend my whole day in the nursery.”
“My lord, you want to exhibit an open, easy relationship with this child.”
He glared at her, a muscle twitching in his cheek. “That is certainly what I want to do.”
“For that, you will have to spend time getting to know her. I will expect to see you up in the nursery every day.” Miss Lockhart looked him straight in the eyes and spoke fiercely. “Every day.”
He knew he was trapped, but he also knew how to negotiate. Focusing on the female to the exclusion of everyone and everything in the chamber, he demanded, “How much time?”
“Two hours a day.”
“Any particular time?”
“As you have rightly pointed out, my lord, you are a busy man.” No mean negotiator herself, Miss Lockhart stared right into his eyes. “When it’s convenient for you, I beg you would inform me.”
His blood coursed warmly through his veins. “I’ll let you know my schedule.”
“And I will arrange ours accordingly.”
Satisfied with the compromise, he stepped back to find that Lord Reynard watched them through bright eyes, and Beth had sidled toward the door as if she expected them both to explode.
“Aren’t you afraid someone will think the girl is your love child?” Lord Reynard asked.
Kerrich swung on his grandfather in horror. “A love child? Impossible! Everyone knows that I am damned vigilant when it comes to—” He stopped, aware that, under Lord Reynard’s prodding, he had ventured into forbidden conversational territory.
But obviously it was not a worry; Miss Lockhart looked confused. Poor old maid. She probably thought rhythm was something performed by an orchestra and a French sheath was a fashionable pocketbook.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Surely no one would think I’m taking my own illegitimate child into my home.”
His grandfather chuckled purposefully.
Kerrich rubbed his forehead. “Yes, of course they will. Can’t a man perform one philanthropic gesture without becoming the object of gossip?”
“Not when that man is a handsome rake of marriageable age,” Lord Reynard answered.
Righteously indignant, Kerrich said, “Over the years, I have contributed to many charities.”
“Drafting a check in the sterile environs of your office, son, is quite different from taking on the pain and joy of raising a child.” Lord Reynard bowed to Beth. “Although I’m sure with this admirable young lady, the joy will far outweigh the pain.”
Beth dipped into a little curtsy.
Bloody damned right the joy will outweigh the pain, Kerrich wanted to say. Especially since, when this farce is over, she’s going to be trained for some useful employment and I’ll have nothing more to do with her.
But he couldn’t afford to be that honest. “I will deny the rumors straight out.”
Lord Reynard laughed aloud.
“No, you’re right,” Kerrich answered the unspoken derision. “That will add fuel to the rumors.”
Again Miss Lockhart showed herself capable of earning her considerable salary and bonus. “I will keep the rumors at bay.”
In surprise, the two men considered her.
“I will be with you always. Wherever you go with Beth, I’ll go, too. Not only as a chaperone, but also as a source of gossip.” Smiling coldly, she folded her hands at her waist. “Let us not deny the rumors, my lords, let us start them. Direct them. I drop a hint here, confess a tidbit there, and soon it will be all over London that Lord Kerrich is adopting the orphaned daughter of…” She hesitated.
“Of one of his staff who was killed performing some good deed for him.”
Kerrich could scarcely believe the words had come from Beth. Lifting his monocle, he stared at her. She didn’t look any different. Still grimy, still shy, and if anything a little surprised at her temerity.
“Won’t that work?” Her voice squeaked a little higher than normal.
“It will work very well.” Miss Lockhart smiled with admiration.
“Realistic.” Lord Reynard approved. “Makes it sound like Devon is doing this out of guilt rather than out of goodness. You’re a clever gel.”
Beth smiled. Two dimples appeared in her thin cheeks and her eyes came alive with pleasure.
“Two very clever females.” Kerrich was not amused, and he let his cold gaze linger on Miss Lockhart as he considered the ramifications. “Very clever indeed.”
Chapter 7
With schoolmistresslike briskness, Miss Lockhart said, “If that is all, my lords, we’ll be out of your way. Our little foundling needs
a bath.”
“Do not,” Beth muttered as she was herded out the door.
The silence left behind lingered while Kerrich and Lord Reynard stared after them.
Then Lord Reynard rapped his cane on the floor. “Excellent character in a woman. Good-looking, too.”
“Yes.” Kerrich hadn’t realized his grandfather’s vision had failed so badly.
From the entry, Lewis spoke, and he sounded disgustingly cheerful. “Salutations, Miss Lockhart. Who might this young lady be?”
“This is Beth. Beth, this is Lord Kerrich’s cousin, Mr. Athersmith.”
Kerrich heard the whisper of Beth’s greeting.
A lass. He could imagine what Lewis was thinking after hearing Kerrich’s story of the tough street boy he admired.
Kerrich strode to the door and as the governess and the child climbed the stairs, he glared at Lewis. “I thought she was a boy.” His tone dared Lewis to challenge him.
And Lewis, good-lad Lewis, pretended it was totally customary for Kerrich to make such a mistake. “Yes, I can see how that might happen.” He wore a greatcoat, a pair of rugged boots, and a broad-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes.
Looking him over, Kerrich asked, “Going somewhere, cousin?”
Lewis explained himself without any obvious resentment. “I have some errands and it’s raining again.”
“Take the carriage.”
“I would not presume—”
“No presumption at all,” Kerrich said, all the while thinking that Lewis would not presume because Lewis didn’t want his activities traced. “I wouldn’t have you suffer any tribulations. I realize you are working for me as a favor.”
Lord Reynard’s voice echoed from the library. “Who’s working for you, boy?”
Lewis blanched. “Your grandfather is here?”
“Please,” Kerrich mouthed. “Tell him nothing.”
In a jerky motion, Lewis nodded, then as Kerrich stepped back, he strode forward and into the library. Kerrich looked out into the entry and saw Moulton silently acknowledge that someone would be following Lewis. Satisfied, Kerrich turned back to his library, to his cousin and his grandfather, and to the desk where the book of dummy accounts rested.
Holding his hat, Lewis stood before Lord Reynard. “Sir, how good to see you! I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“No one did.” Lord Reynard reached out his hand. “At my age, surprising my relatives is perchance the only thrill I can handle.”
Lewis took the proffered fingers and squeezed them, but to Kerrich’s critical gaze he did so awkwardly and as if he suffered acute discomfort. “A pleasant and unexpected gain for both Kerrich and me, then.”
Kerrich unlocked the desk, and with carefully simulated slyness, he slid the book of accounts into a drawer. He locked it within, making sure the metal rattled against the lock, then he pocketed the key.
Lewis observed every move.
“So you’re working for Devon now,” Lord Reynard said. “I thought you were working as a tutor for…who was it you were working for?”
Lewis answered with a little too much brevity. “Lord Swearn.”
“I thought him a good man.” Lord Reynard fixed his gaze on Lewis. “But obviously you don’t agree.”
Lewis had the grace to look uncomfortable. “No! Sir! Lord Swearn was perfectly equitable.”
“I always say the only two ways to know a person is to work for them or marry them. Didn’t the family treat you well?”
Lord Reynard had Lewis scrambling now. “Sir, they were quite generous. Always kind.”
“You were preparing the eldest boy for Oxford, I believe.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then the youth you taught was a dunce or a wastrel and blamed you for his lack of progress.”
“No, sir, young Mr. Fotherby was quite responsible.”
Lord Reynard thumped his cane on the floor in small, rhythmic motions. “I don’t understand, then. Why did you leave?”
Lewis stiffened further with each pointed question. “I simply…thought it time I served my time in the family business.”
“You left in the middle of preparing that lad for Oxford to work in the family business?” Lord Reynard turned to Kerrich, who had been observing with fascination. “Boy, don’t we still own a bank?”
“We do,” Kerrich said.
He turned back to Lewis. “You hate numbers. You always swore you wouldn’t work in the company business.”
“I have matured.”
“Hm.” Lord Reynard gave him a long look, then smiled widely. “Good for you, son. Glad to see you’ve joined us.”
Lewis staggered slightly as he relaxed.
Yes, Kerrich thought. You hated that interrogation, didn’t you?
“Thank you, sir,” Lewis said. “How long will we have the pleasure of your company?”
“I’ve decided to take Devon up on his invitation to spend time with him in London. Thought I’d go to the United Service Club, see if any of my old friends are around, talk about the world of finance and how it’s all gone to hell since we got too ancient to run it.” Lord Reynard grinned.
Kerrich wavered between elation and dismay. While it was God’s own truth Kerrich always loved to see his grandfather, he found the timing of this visit suspicious. Lord Reynard so seldom ventured out these days. Why had he come? Had he heard a rumor? Or, God forbid, did he know the truth?
And if Kerrich was bedeviled, he could imagine the disquiet Lewis experienced as he faced the man who had put him through Oxford, knowing he was doing his best to bring the bank to ruination and the family to disgrace.
Or perhaps he had gone so far down the road to damnation he no longer cared.
“Sir,” Lewis said, “I’m sure your friends will be glad to see you and catch you up on the gossip. I look forward to seeing you often, sir.”
“Aye.” Lord Reynard withdrew his hand and waved Lewis away. “I recognize a plea for dismissal, and I know you have more important things to do other than to greet an old man. Go on, we’ll talk later.”
“I look forward to that, sir.” Lewis bowed. “Since you have just come, you’ll be wanting to visit with your grandson now, anyway.” He bowed to Kerrich, too, and exited quickly—too quickly in Kerrich’s critical opinion.
“He never calls me ‘uncle’ anymore.” Lord Reynard’s shrewd old eyes watched the place where Lewis had disappeared. “He calls me ‘sir,’ and when he’s speaking to you about me, he calls me ‘your grandfather.’ ”
“He seems quite conscious of being the grandson of your sister, sir. We might have treated him like a beloved relative, but to everyone else he was barely a part of the family.”
“There’s nothing more dangerous than a man who allows others’ perceptions to form his character. Something’s not right. Not right at all.”
Kerrich wished Lord Reynard had made the observation years earlier, when Kerrich could have somehow stopped this debacle that threatened so much of their lives. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
Lord Reynard whipped his head around and glared. “Don’t patronize me, boy. I’m old, not stupid.”
So much for easing his grandfather’s mind. “No, sir. I apologize.”
“You’d best watch him.”
Of course Kerrich agreed, yet he could scarcely confess why.
Lord Reynard stroked his rough, wrinkled chin. “But perhaps that’s why you have employed him, heh?”
“You are very astute, sir.” Kerrich set a crystal paperweight on some of his less-interesting correspondence, then looked up at a wail from above stairs.
“What was that?” Lord Reynard asked. “It sounded like a banshee.”
Mystified, Kerrich shook his head. “Perhaps the child?”
“Only if they were killing her.”
The noise did not repeat, so Kerrich suggested, “Let’s go sit by the fire.”
Willingly Lord Reynard heaved himself out of the hard-backed chair for the
promise of a cushioned one. “She’s a spirited filly, that one.”
“Who…oh.” Did every conversation have to center around them? “Which, the child or the governess?”
“This young lady you’re courting.” Lord Reynard leaned one hand on Kerrich’s arm and one on his cane, and started toward the fire.
Kerrich’s head whirled. “What young lady?”
“Your pretty governess!”
“Now, wait, Grandpapa—”
“What other reason would you have for adopting a child? You’re a rake, but you certainly wouldn’t take a lady of good background as your mistress. So you obviously want that governess in your home so you can plead your suit at your leisure.”
“You mean—Miss Lockhart? To wed?” Lord Reynard’s speculation rendered Kerrich incoherent.
So that was the reason Lord Reynard had not interrogated him about his sudden turn of philanthropy. He thought Kerrich wanted to take Miss Lockhart to wife! And Kerrich could deny it, but what other reason could he give his grandfather for taking Beth into his home? For foisting her on society and lying about her origins?
“A woman like that wouldn’t have a man like you without persuasion.” Lord Reynard waggled his finger. “You’ll have to work to win her.”
Kerrich tried to see the best way out of this morass, but could come up with nothing better than “I don’t want her!”
Lord Reynard backed up to the fire and rubbed his rear. “Then what the hell is a girl of respectable family doing living in your house?”
“I’m…looking her over.” As good a tale as any. “I know I’ll have to wed soon, and I have a list of what I want in a wife.”
“Do you?” Lord Reynard coughed—or did he chortle? “Tell me about this list.”
“I’ll show you.” Striding to his desk, Kerrich sorted through his files until he found it. “Basic requirements, really. She should be of good family. That goes without saying.”
“Without saying,” Lord Reynard repeated.
“She should have a strong sense of what is proper, be instructed on the duties of a hostess, be intelligent and, of course, be pliant and live to please me.”
Lord Reynard stared at him, and by his expression Kerrich suspected he would not be praised for a list that he thought to be quite forward thinking.