*
“No,” she said.
Mr. Brinkley followed Percy’s suit and turned to watch Lady Daniella clench and unclench her fists at her sides.
“No,” she repeated.
How beautiful she looked when enraged.
“I’m afraid so,” Percy said. When the lady said nothing more, he addressed Mr. Brinkley. “Do what you will. Mustn’t keep the gills waiting. We’ll continue the tour another time.”
“Aye, Your Grace.” Mr. Brinkley tipped his hat to Lady Daniella, who was decidedly nowhere in the present mind to respond.
Percy sighed. “Might as well go,” he said to the other man. “The lady seems to have taken the news hard. I’ll wait until she has recouped and then we shall return to the house.”
Mr. Brinkley hesitated and fiddled with his cap, his gaze darting back to Lady Daniella. “Can I trust your intentions, sir—er, Your Grace? I’ve known Lady Daniella since she was weaned. Loved her like a daughter.” The last was said with a pointed look. “We all do around here.”
Percy appreciated the man’s guts—and his fatherly tone—glad he didn’t need to disembowel the man for being in love with Lady Daniella. He really liked these boots. “You have my word. The lady will be safe with me.”
His last statement seemed to at last shake said lady from her stupor.
“Safe? Safe!” She advanced on him, not seeming to notice how Mr. Brinkley resisted a smile before making his escape into the maze.
Traitor.
Percy faced her head on and raised his hand, understanding the situation perfectly now. “On my honor.”
The face she made, he’d once seen that same expression on a sailor who’d lost his boot in the beak of a giant squid.
“If you had any honor,” she spat, “you’d relinquish your false claim on Jack’s title and give the rightful duke his place.”
Wouldn’t they all prefer such a scenario?
“Awful as it is,” he said, “the claim is real, and I cannot pass it off, no matter how many times I threaten that peacock-vested solicitor.”
She’d really loved ‘Uncle Jack.’ He could hear it in her tone.Guess the old man couldn’t have been all bad.
“I’m sorry,” he said and he meant it. “Clearly, he was dear to you.”
Her lip quivered, and he didn’t imagine the glassy quality in her eyes. But Lady Daniella wouldn’t stoop so low as to cry and let a cad like him off the hook by bungling a comforting gesture.
Instead, she made a graceful turn and walked from the place without a word, leaving him to awkwardly follow her to the rear exit of the maze and onto a fully furnished and gently vined veranda complete with a man in a dark suit who sat drinking tea as if he were a cushion that had always been there.
The man glanced up at their approach and smiled. “There you are, child. Come and sit down before I eat your share of biscuits.”
Lady Daniella kissed the man on the cheek, her smile sadly tempered. “I can’t believe there are any left.”
The same brown eyes and dark brows, the same smile lines around a wide mouth... This must have been her father. One glance her way and Percy knew a single word out of line, and he’d feel that goddess’s justice she was so fond of.
Finally noticing him, Lord Bromley’s gaze widened. He shot to his feet and stumbled towards Percy, arm outstretched. “Jack...” The man stopped and collected himself with a clearing of his throat. “Apologies.” He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture tired. “You look so much like—”
“Like Uncle Jack,” Percy finished. So, the old man had been a looker.
For the man to have gained the respect of these people, it was clear Percy hadn’t gotten the entire picture from his late father about their family’s estrangement, or lineage.
Lord Bromley’s gaze shifted uncomfortably at his silence. “I must beg your pardon for taking tea. We did not mean to intrude.”
Percy waved away his concern. Truth was, he could use help navigating how best to conduct himself now he was here, and how best to avoid more calls. He stuck out his hand, getting a feeling the Earl of Bromley wasn’t one for ceremony. “I hear you were close as brothers. It would mean a great deal if we could sit down some time, and you’d tell me about him?”
