“I will tell you what you deserve to know, no more and no less.” For this offer, she stuck out her tongue at him.” Go.” Arthur leaned down to hold her gaze. “I promise I will tell you all. You know that I always do.”
She smiled and rubbed her hands together. “You are powerless when faced with my relentless questions.”
Arthur laughed, because it was true.
She crossed her heart with a fingertip, and only when Arthur had done the same did she dart away. He stood, amazed at how silently she could move through the house. She must have every creaking stair memorized.
Maybe shewasa spy, or had a promising future as one. There could be no secrets wherever Amelia resided, though he wagered her governess was unaware of great swaths of her charge’s life.
He checked the knot of his cravat in the large mirror in the foyer, giving Amelia time to retreat before he entered the drawing room. He caught a glimpse of her face at the top of the stairs and saluted her, marching toward the drawing room even as he heard her giggle.
What could Reynaud want?
“Mother,” he said as he entered the room, bowing to Lady Beckham. He could not fail to note that she looked agitated, which was not her custom.
She had not invited her brother, then. What did Reynaud want from her? His frequent requests for funds did not typically trouble her. Arthur immediately felt the urge to defend the lady and did not take a seat, standing before her and almost between the siblings.
Reynaud Tattinger, Earl of Fairhaven, turned from his place at the window to nod a greeting. The product of an impulsive second marriage on the part of their father, he was more than twenty years younger than his older sister, and only a few years older than Arthur, her oldest son. The earldom had fallen to him, and their respective ages meant that Arthur had no expectations of inheriting the title. Reynaud had not married as yet, but he undoubtedly would and there would be a veritable army of sons between Arthur and the earldom. He had made his peace with the situation long before.
“I thought you had become lost in the foyer,” Reynaud said tartly. “It is not so large as that, Arthur. Have you mislaid every last increment of intelligence?”
There was something about the earl that provoked a sensible man into hiding his assets, lest they be appropriated or put to the service of the Earl of Fairhaven. He was not an unattractive man, with his fair hair and chiseled features, but there was a pettiness about his uncle that Arthur disliked.
Arthur made an elaborate bow. “My cravat, sir, had to be tidied before I could face Mother,” he said lightly. “I find it quite impossible to get the knot exactly right without my valet.” He turned to Lady Beckham. “What do you think, Mother? Will it suffice?”
That lady, to Arthur’s relief, had a welcome gleam in her eye. He knew she was glad of his presence. “A little asymmetrical, dear boy. Do come here.”
He bent and allowed her to adjust his cravat, winking at her when his uncle could not see his face. Her eyes twinkled as her smile was restored.
To be sure, Lady Beckham could be as demanding as her brother. The Tattingers were a fiercely stubborn lot. Arthur liked to think of himself as an exception.
Lord Fairhaven cleared his throat, then took a seat opposite his hostess. “I have no time for such fripperies and nonsense,” he said sourly. Lady Beckham poured the tea and Arthur delivered a cup to his uncle before accepting his own. “I have come on an errand of importance, and I will not be put aside.”
“I do not believe anyone has attempted to dissuade you from doing as much, Reynaud,” Lady Beckham said, offering a plate of iced cakes.
“But you have delayed me. My time is of the greatest importance, as you would understand if you had any obligations at all, Yvonne.”
Arthur watched his mother straighten. A lady of great activity and instigator of many initiatives for the welfare of others, she did not take well to any suggestion that she was idle.
The earl was living dangerously.
“I did not realize you had obligations, Reynaud,” she said, her tone seemingly mild. Arthur heard the current of steel beneath her words though. “Have they taken to scheduling appointments in the gaming hells?”
The earl, astonishingly, sputtered, a dull red rising up the back of his neck.
“Oh, you have come to entreat me for funds again,” Lady Beckham said with surety. “I regret, Reynaud, that I can no longer indulge you or your profligate habits. If you cannot pay your gambling debts, you should not incur them.”
Arthur moved to stand by her side, bracing himself for a tirade from his uncle.
“Just because you married well, Yvonne, does not mean you are my superior,” the earl said bitterly. “You were fortunate in your match, that is all, and you were fortunate because Father saw to it…”
“I was fortunate in my match because my husband was not a fool,” Lady Beckham said crisply.
The earl’s disdain was clear. “He was as inveterate a gambler as I.”
“Yet he had the good sense to die before he had exhausted his inheritance. You might have taken a lesson there, Reynaud.”
The pair glared at each other.
