“We expect you for dinner on Sunday, Eli,” Emma chirped, giving him a peck on the cheek.
They left, and he returned his chair to the desk. “Perhaps with interruptions over, I can get some work done,” he muttered.
*
Fanny came awakeslowly and blinked at the sunny room, brightly lit even though the curtains remained closed. Susan sat in a chair by the window, mending. She saw no sign of Eli, and the dread feeling she’d had the day before, waking alone by the trees, returned. She let her breathing steady and tried to sort her muddled thoughts.
You’re in the earl’s manor. The earl, your brother. Who is determined to care for you.She had hoped for assistance and gotten more than she’d bargained for.Amy and Wil are here and safe. Somewhere.She squeezed her eyes shut.Eli is here, too. You’ll see him in a while.
She sat, drawing a smile from her maid, who tugged the bellpull. “They’re waiting below stairs to bring you a breakfast tray,” the girl said. “I left orders to send warm water, too.”
“I would prefer to eat with the others,” Fanny said.
“Goodness, ma’am. They ate two hours or more ago. The morning is mostly gone,” Susan said, busying herself laying out clothing. “I had plenty of time to unpack your trunk yesterday while everyone fretted over you and Mr. Benson being missing.”
“We weren’t missing. We were making our way here. People fretted?”
Susan spoke over her shoulder, “The earl paced to those front windows all afternoon. Goodfellow sent two of the grooms out looking. He planned to mount a full-scale search party this morning if you hadn’t turned up. The grooms returned last night two hours after you did.”
Fanny shook her head. “They missed us—or we missed them.”
“All’s well that ends well, I say. You’re where you belong. This one?” Susan asked, holding up a blue muslin gown, Fanny’s favorite.
Fanny nodded, and both women were distracted by a scratch at the door. Susan pulled bedcurtains to shelter Fanny and opened the door to a footman carrying water. Another followed with a tray.
In the privacy of the bedcurtains, Fanny mulled the maid’s words.“Where you belong.”Fanny wasn’t so sure Clarion Hall was where the forgotten bastard daughter belonged—the Willow had been comfortable enough—but the thought had been kindly meant.
The door clicked shut, and she slid out of bed, eager to start her day. An hour later, fed and dressed, she made her way to the nursery floor to reassure Amy and thank Wil again for his bravery. She found the schoolroom empty except for the tiny between-stairs maid, who had been assigned to tidy up. The girl told her they had gone to the stables to meet a newborn foal, suggesting Fanny could probably catch up with them.
The last thing she wanted to greet was another horse, however adorable. She retraced her steps and descended the grand staircase to the first floor. She found the earl in the breakfast room, lingering over coffee and reading the London papers, a sheet of foolscap for notes at his side.
He rose and inclined his head. “Miss Hancock, I am relieved to see you looking so well. May I offer you coffee? I understood that a tray was sent up for you.”
“It was, indeed. Your excellent staff has seen to my every need.”
He nodded, taking the quality of his servants for granted. He gestured to a seat.
She sat so he could, if for no other reason, but waved off a suggestion he order tea for her and accepted a cup of coffee to be polite. “I thought I might find Eli here.”
The earl frowned, and she wondered if it was her use of Eli’s Christian name. “Benson rises early. Certainly earlier than I do. I expect you would find him in the estate office, going about his business,” he said.
She had no response for that, and good manners required that she not jump up and run to the estate office.
“Did you sleep well?” The earl appeared as awkward as Fanny felt. She realized they had had few opportunities to speak alone together.
“I did, indeed. Thank you, my lord. You’ve done so much for me. I understand from E—Mr. Benson that you’ve directed him to find a cottage that may suit the ducklings and me. You must know that is an enormous relief.”
The earl inclined his head. “The Clarion estate is obliged to assist—to the extent we can. I relied on Benson to manage the financial decisions. But don’t think of that now. As long as some madman is intent on abducting you, we are better served keeping you here at the hall, where we can manage security.”
Fanny felt her brows rise. She hadn’t considered the matter. She had expected a clean hand off of assistance, not an ongoing participation. Interference. Her confused feelings—longing for safety, yearning for family, desire for independence—unsettled her. “For now, perhaps. We won’t trouble you for long,” she said. She wondered what Eli thought.
They sipped coffee companionably. When the earl picked up his paper, she asked, “I see you take notes. Political matters coming to a head?”
Clarion’s sad smile held his respect for her question. “No more than usual. Some of it is political talk. Mostly, however, I like to follow the economic news, the crimes, the public sentiment. I look for things Parliament should be addressing before they become crises.”
“Wise.” Her response seemed to please this rather stern man. She had to remind herself he was her brother. Moments later she finished her coffee, rose, and curtseyed. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Enjoy your day, Miss Hancock, and please know you are welcome here as long as needed. We won’t abandon you.”
