“But…”
“Never mind. I’ll do it myself. Good day, Miss Selwyn,” he said, leading Hannibal to a mounting block set along the commercial district for ladies’ use. He put one foot in his stirrup and heaved himself up with one muscular thrust of his shoulders accompanied by a grimace. He fixed a leather strap around each thigh, studiously avoiding her gaze.
You’re staring again, Mia. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He didn’t hear her. It didn’t matter. She watched him trot off toward Woodglen.
She wasn’t alone. Avid faces peered from every window along the market street.
Chapter Six
Dinner at SelwynCourt hummed with excitement that evening. The duke’s bastard brother had been sighted in Nether Abbas, and everyone seemed to have a story.
“Rogers at the Cockcrow told Betts the man is a dwarf hunchback and trouble,” Eustace Selwyn said with glee.
Betts, the Honorable Richard Bettinton, one of Eustace’s more unsavory friends, confirmed that with equal relish. “Rogers won’t have him in the place,” he said. “More’s the pity—would have liked a good look.”
Mia held her tongue with difficulty. Anything she said to the contrary would invite a verbal attack from Eustace. Selina bounced in her seat, fit to burst, but kept silent. Uncle Ludlow had never discovered her visit to Woodglen. If she gave in to the urge to say she’d seen the man, she’d have to explain when.
“The bloke at the stable said he was nearly mute, too.” The third speaker, Sir Harvey Rowlinson, the one they called Rowley, spoke quietly.
Eustace leaned forward. “Our grooms talk to those over in Woodglen’s stables. George says no one there wants to deal with him. They’re all afraid he’ll ask them to help him mount, and not one wants to touch him, deformed as he is.”
“He doesn’t need help mounting his horse,” Mia said before she could stop herself.
“How would you know, Fee? Have you taken to consorting with grooms and stable hands?” Eustace sneered.
“I thought you said it was the horses she consorts with,” Betts said as if it was a great joke.
She sat up straighter. “I saw him in Nether Abbas.” Suddenly the focus of all eyes, she wished she hadn’t spoken.
“When?” Eustace demanded.
“Where?” Uncle Ludlow asked at the same time.
“This morning. He came into Adcock’s Stationery when I went to…” Mia hesitated, loath to reveal her defiance of Uncle Ludlow’s dictate that all correspondence come through him. “That is, I used my pin money to purchase a diary.”
Selina leaned across the table. “Was he horrible, as they say? Could you understand him when he spoke?” Her eyes glittered.
Her cousin knew full well he spoke like a gentleman. She had heard him at Woodglen. Mia was tempted to reveal Selina’s little secret. Instead, she said, “He had no problem making his demands clear to Mr. Adcock.”
“I certainly hope you left quickly, Mia. No lady should have any dealings with that creature,” Uncle Ludlow said. Mia opened her mouth to demand why, thought better of it, and dropped her eyes to the fish portion she had shredded on her plate.
“Norespectablelady,” Eustace said with glee. “I heard he was caught in flagrante with his own stepmother.”
Betts giggled. “I’ve heard some women have a taste for the grotesque.”
“Enough!” Uncle Ludlow roared. “There are ladies present.”
“What news from Woodglen, then, Clavering? Didn’t you ride over there a day ago?” Eustace asked.
Selina drew breath and grasped her hands to her chest. “Has the heir accepted our invitation to tea? You left your card, didn’t you, Papa?” She leaned toward the viscount anxiously. “Please tell me he hasn’t left.”
“Mr. Tavernash is still in residence. He’s the cousin with expectations, yes, and he has been too preoccupied acquainting himself with Woodglen to socialize so far,” Uncle Ludlow replied.
“Forget the bleating cousin. What does Marshall have to say about the bastard?” Eustace demanded.
Selina sank into sullen silence.
The viscount sighed. “The Tavernash by-blow had just arrived. Marshall expected to send him away with a flea in his ear within a day. I’m shocked that didn’t happen.”
