Amelia had complained about having to help when Caroline did not. It seemed unfair to her. To Caroline, too, who again petitioned Thornhill for her to be made a servant. He would have none of it. He meant to humble Amelia, she knew, perhaps so she would be amenable to Jason’s eventual proposal. Mostly, however, he knew that Amelia would live at Crestview now, and if a peer of the realm could help groom horses Amelia could help groom chambers.
Caroline was in the kitchen with Mrs. Hoover when Tom hobbled down the stairs outside and opened the door. “Riders coming up the lane. A carriage, too.”
They all looked at one another and shrugged. “I can’t imagine who it could be,” Caroline said. All the same she went up to greet whoever was coming to their door.
A coach and two riders on horseback drew closer. The riders wore livery. The huge carriage sported an abundance of brass and two liveried footmen. As it rolled to a stop in front of her house she saw the escutcheon on its door.
Jason came up behind her in the hall. “Go above and wake Lord Thornhill,” she said. “Tell him his cousin is here.”
A footman hopped off the back of the carriage, opened the door, and set down steps. A man emerged. The face beneath his hat’s brim was a fuller, older, coarser version of Thornhill’s. His shorter body showed more weight. Caroline gritted her teeth. This man would soon be family to her, but she still hated the sight of him.
One of the footmen came to her at the door. “The Marquess of Haverdale has called for Lord Thornhill.”
“Please ask him to come in and wait by the fire.”
“He intends to remain outside.”
“If he chooses to remain in the cold, so be it. He is welcome here. No one is going to assault him.”
The servant looked shocked by the very notion of an assault on his lord. He returned to the marquess and delivered her message.
The marquess appeared indecisive. The damp and cold won out over any inclination to stand his ground. He approached, bowed, and followed her into the house.
“Lord Thornhill will be with you soon.” She ushered him into the study. “Will this do? The blue chair is very comfortable.”
He gave the chair’s seat a little brush with his gloves. “This will do.”
“I will leave you then. I have preparations to make for the day.” She closed the door upon leaving, hoping her father was not turning in his grave.
* * *
Adam took his time dressing and going below. He had expected the carriage. He had not expected Nigel to be inside it.
Caroline sat in the reception hall. “I put him in the study.”
“I did not expect him, if you are wondering about that.”
“I was wondering.”
“I would not invite him here, knowing how you feel. Now, keep the family in the kitchen. My cousin can be dramatic in his anger and I do not want witnesses to his histrionics.”
“Will he be as angry as that? He has no reason to hate us.”
Someday he would tell her just why Nigel would be angry. Not all of it, though. It would take a while to decide what she needed to know.
He entered the study and closed the door. Nigel glared at him from where he sat on a blue chair. A folded paper rested on the desktop within his reach. He tapped his finger on it.
“Hell of a thing to receive that. Good of you to let me know you were alive, at least.”
“I sent word as soon as I could. Did you have a good Christmas, secure in knowing I was safe?”
“Good enough, although Miss Millerson was distraught with worry even with the news.”
“The hell she was. She was indignant that I did not crawl if necessary to have the privilege of her company.”
“Now, we talked about that, and about the benefits of that match to you. Come back with me. All is not lost on that account.”
Adam rested his hips against the desk’s edge. He removed a folded vellum document from his frock coat and set it down. “There will be no match. Here is the special license. You paid for it, so you may as well have it.”
