“Ma’am?”
“Did you say earl?”
He shuffled his feet. “Yes, Ma’am. The Earl of Threthewick, Ma’am?”
She shook her head. “There is no such person here. This is the residence of the Merivales.”
The man wrinkled his forehead. “This is Rosethistle Cottage, Ma’am?”
“Yes, it is.”
The footman looked unhappily at the missive that he held out to her. “I am to deliver this to Rosethistle Cottage for the Earl of Threthewick.”
“Maybe there has been a mistake. This is the home of Mr Philip Merivale and his children Katy, Robin, and Joy. I am Miss Weston, the governess.” A thought occurred to her. “Maybe you meant to deliver this to the big estate house that is nearby? Thornton Hall?”
He shook his head. “I’m from there.” The footman scratched his head under the wig. “I’m new here. Is there another cottage called Rosethistle somewhere?”
“Actually, I don’t know. I don’t think so. It would be odd if there were two houses with the same name, wouldn’t it?”
“Then this is the right place.” He pressed a letter into her hands.
“But —”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I have to return. Dashed busy day today.”
He scuttled off and left her staring at the letter in her hands. There was evidently a mix–up.
She left the missive on the side table in the hallway for Philip. He would have to decide what to do with it.
“Back to Hannibal,” she announced brightly as she re-entered the parlour classroom. “Where were we? Hannibal marched into Italy with an army of war elephants —”
“He would’ve been a lot faster if he’d taken a balloon,” Robin grumbled.
“I’m sure he would, Robin. As I was saying…”
Sometime later, Mr Merivale passed by the window outside, holding the letter. She was about to open the window to call out to him that it had been delivered by mistake, when she saw him break the seal and read it.
The words froze on Arabella’s lips.
He crumpled the missive into a ball and threw it aside. He stalked by with a black scowl on his face.
“Miss? I finished my essay. Can we have a short rest?” Robin’s voice tore her out of her thoughts.
“Yes.” She unclenched her fists and took a deep breath to steady herself.
It looked like Mr Merivale had some explaining to do.
He should have known betterthan to trusthim.
Philip had known that for as long they were living here, he couldn’t trust anyone, and he’d been right. His children couldn’t take one step out of their garden without being accosted byhim.A streak of hot fury flashed through Philip as he remembered the events in town.
They’d had an agreement. He had promised to leave them in peace for as long as they lived here. Philip should’ve known better, because at the first opportunityhe’d broken that agreement. And sent a letter with an invitation, wanting to discuss things in a civilised manner. Over a cup of tea? Philip snorted. Over his dead body more likely.
Philip ferociously hammered on the metal, flattening it to a thin sheet. A final, furious bash of the hammer tore a hole in the sheet. Blast. Now he’d ruined it and had to start anew.
He sighed and slumped against the anvil.
It had been a mistake to settle in Cornwall.
