“That is only part of what people say about you,” Bran assured him with a laugh, and downed the rest of his ale. A bit of the tension inside him started to ease.
Mars nodded when Andy silently asked if he wanted a drink. “Apparently Balfour is ready for another as well.” There was a deceptively light tone to his words. Bran ignored it, but nodded his head that, yes, he wanted another.
“So was your dear sister’s concern urgent?” Mars stretched his long legs in front of him.
Beyond urgent.Bran kept the thought to himself.
“And apparently you haven’t slept yet. Up all night, weren’t you—riding?”
Bran did not trust the quizzing. Or the way Mars studied him. He kept his silence, relieved that Andy didn’t waste time coming out with two tankards. The old man set the drinks in front of them, and Bran had a powerful urge to suck down the second tankard as quickly as the first.
Mars’s presence stopped him. Bran sat, his elbows on the arms of his chair, his shoulders hunkered as he watched the earl take a drink. Mars wiped the corner of his mouth with the edge of his thumb. He looked from the untouched tankard to Bran and his brooding. “Come out back.” He didn’t wait for Bran but rose and walked through the taproom door.
Bran itched to drain his tankard. It was uncharacteristic of him, yes, but right now he felt ready to crawl out of his skin. Instead he followed Mars, taking his untouched ale with him.
The taproom was a small antechamber leading to the kitchen. Tankards hung on the wall and several kegs, at least enough to keep the men of Maidenshop happy, were stacked neatly in a corner.
In the kitchen, a few boys were cleaning up after the plucking. The naked and cleaned birds had been stacked on a great tray on the center aisle table. Andy nodded to them as Mars and Bran came through.
“Will you start cooking now, Andy?” Mars asked.
“In a few hours. I’ll steam them before baking them in the pie,” Andy said. “Keeps the meat tender.”
Bran nodded dumbly. He was not a cook and right now, he didn’t have an appetite for anything save the ale he carried.
In truth, he envied Mars’s easiness with people from all walks of society. The boys would never wave and bow to him the way they did to the earl, even when the man wasn’t paying them pennies to help with a hunt. Thurlowe was much like Mars. As the local doctor, he was extremely popular and welcomed into every home in the parish.
Only Bran seemed ill at ease when it came to social situations, and that had always been true—except with Kate. For her, he’d called on all his courage and overcome his natural reserve.
“Whatever you do will be appreciated,” Mars answered Andy. “Expect a crowd. I’ll talk it up tonight. We’ll have a good turnout on the morrow if those who have traveled for the dance don’t leave early.”
“I hope so. Mr. Thurlowe is anxious over the matter,” Andy answered.
“All the more reason to do what we can to make his seminar a success. We want Ned happy.” Mars nodded for Bran to follow him through the back door.
Several chairs and a table were outside the back door. Two chairs were close to the stream where the sound of water would prevent any conversation from being overheard. Mars led them there. He sat and indicated Bran should take a chair.
Bran didn’t sit. He was too unsettled.
“Go on, spill it,” Mars ordered. “Something is bothering you. Is it the bridge commission? Your sister?”
Bran was not one for talking about himself.
“Either tell me or down that ale you’ve been carrying as if you would like to throw it at me.” Mars took a pull from his own drink for punctuation.
“Christopher has his eyes onan actress.” The words flowed out of Bran, surprising him with their ferocity. God, he sounded like Lucy.
And Mars’s response had been his. “As we all should.” The earl tilted his chair back.
“Not this one. I’ve ordered her gone. I want her away from Winderton.”
“I never thought you one to discourage a man from sowing his oats. What is he? Almost twenty-one? What are actresses for?”
Bran had a strong urge to throttle his friend, and realized it was jealousy. He did not like hearing Kate spoken of in that manner, even though she’d proven it to be true. “Not with her.” He spoke slow and deliberately.
Mars brought all four legs of his chair down. “Balfour?” His brows came together. “Is it possible that you know this woman? You... and an actress?”
“You act as if such an association is perplexing.”
