He stared back at her. ‘Throw them out? I can hardly do that, Lady Somerton.’
Isabel swallowed the scathing retort that rose in her throat. They had been uninvited guests in this house long enough. Freddy was quite capable of making his own way in the world, but chose not to. As for Fanny, lack of a respectable dowry, or indeed any dowry, lessened her attractions on the marriage market. She was reaching an age when she could be considered unmarriageable and should be grateful for any offer she received, but Freddy seemed set on a ‘good’ marriage for his sister and had resisted suggestions of suitable husbands for Fanny. ‘Nothing less than a title, my dear Lady Somerton,’he had said. ‘It’s what she deserves.’
She changed the subject. ‘When your sister arrives, you will have a lady to grace your table, Lord Somerton. It is my hope that the work on the dower house will be complete and I will take my leave of you then.’
Before he could respond, she threw open the door of the bedchamber. Sebastian stood in the doorway and looked around the magnificent room that occupied the end of the west wing of the house, running the full depth of the building.
He leaned on the cane with both hands and shook his head. ‘I swear, Lady Somerton, the entire contents of my cottage would be lost in this room.’
‘It is a little ostentatious,’ Isabel agreed.
A huge four-poster bed, draped with green silk hangings, dominated the room, which had been decorated with a green silkwallpaper that matched the bed hangings. Sebastian reached out to trace the design of herons that fluttered across the pale fabric.
‘Of course, you may decorate to your own taste, my lord,’ Isabel said.
He turned and gave her a half smile. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
A discreet cough came from behind them. Both Sebastian and Isabel turned.
‘My lord, welcome to Brantstone Hall,’ said a ponderous voice.
‘And you are?’ Sebastian enquired.
‘Pierce, my lord. I am your lordship’s valet. I apologise for not being downstairs to greet you. I was detained in ensuring all was in readiness for you.’
‘Valet?’ Sebastian glanced at Isabel.
‘’Ere, what about me?’ Bennet had appeared in the doorway, carrying Sebastian’s battered campaign trunk. ‘He don’t need a valet. I’ve been his batman these fifteen years past.’
‘And I have been valet to the last two Lord Somertons.’ Pierce looked down his nose at the interloper into his kingdom.
Sebastian turned to Isabel and she read the look of mute appeal in his eyes.
‘I think for the moment—Pierce, Bennet—we should all leave Lord Somerton to get some rest. And might I suggest, Pierce, that his lordship takes supper in his rooms tonight?’
‘Very good, m’lady. I shall tell the kitchen.’ Pierce bowed and made off at a stately pace.
Isabel excused herself and closed the door behind her.
Returning to the parlour, she found Freddy and Fanny engaged in a game of Piquet. Freddy suggested a game of Pope Joan, but she declined, picking up her embroidery frame.
‘Oh, my dear Isabel,’ Freddy said, without moving his eyes from his cards, ‘we will have our work cut out with our new Lord Somerton.’
Isabel looked up. ‘What do you mean?’
‘My dear, the way he talks. And his clothes! He has no idea, does he?’
Isabel stiffened. ‘I think he will soon adapt, Freddy, and if I may make an observation, I do not think he will take kindly to any instruction from you.’
Freddy swivelled in his chair to look at her. He placed a hand on his chest, a frown creasing his forehead and a pained look in his eye.
‘What do you mean?’
‘May I remind you, he is no kin of yours, Freddy. You would be advised to start looking to your own future.’
‘Oh, he wouldn’t throw us out, would he?’ Fanny declared, her blue eyes wide.
Isabel stabbed the needle into the cloth. ‘It is not for me to say what Lord Somerton will do.’
