A quick glance at the headlines told him amazing things were happening all over the world. The East Indian Company was going to establish a settlement in Singapore. Zane remembered talking with Garrett Stockton about that possibility at a party the first night they met. The adventurer had been to Singapore and agreed that it was a long way from England. Zane wouldn’t mind going there some day. He wanted to get to know people whose cultures were different from his. But he would have to think on making the voyage. He wasn’t sure he’d be happy with so many long days at sea before reaching land.
His eyes scanned down the rest of the front page. America was still trying to purchase Florida from Spain, and a steamship namedSavannahhad crossed the Atlantic in twenty-six days. The world was getting bigger and closer together every year. Reading those articles should keep his mind off Brina.
For a few minutes.
He shook out the newsprint and started on the article about the ship but had barely gotten two or three sentences into it when he sensed Fulton standing in the doorway.
“Excuse me, my lord.”
Zane lowered the paper and looked at the butler. “Yes?”
“Your uncles and sister have arrived and are wondering if they might join you here or in your drawing room.”
Hells bells.He hadn’t heard them at the door. They usually came in chattering so energetically, they could be heard all over the house.
It seemed the earlier he rose in the mornings, the earlier his uncles arrived. And Patricia with them today too. That didn’t bode well. She was usually reserved for only the most important issues. What in the hell had he done this time to upset his family?
“Have them come in here, Fulton, and see if they’d like tea or something to eat.”
“No, we don’t need anything, my lord,” Hector said, coming from behind Fulton.
Zane had even missed the familiar tap of his uncle’s cane on the wooden floor. He must have been deep in thought about Brina.
Sylvester and Patricia followed Hector into the breakfast room. They all stopped at the head of the table, greeted him properly, and then proceeded to stare down at him with disapproving expressions.
He refolded the paper, laid it aside, and rose. “Please, sit down and join me.”
Sylvester remained staunch with his shoulders and back straight as a board, not moving a muscle. Patricia continued to stare at him but stiffly folded her arms on her chest and drummed the fingers of both hands on her forearms. Uncle Hector cleared his throat and bobbed his chin as he stared at Zane with great condemnation.
For a moment or two he had no idea what he might have done to warrant the rebuking stares, but then, by chance he noticed the sleeves of his shirt. Times like these were what reminded him of how much he disliked family gatherings.
“No,” Zane said with a little more force than he intended. “I can bloody well sit alone at my own breakfast table, in my own house, without wearing my coat.”
“Well, of course youcando it, my lord,” Patricia said dryly, her tone almost as stiff as her frame. “The point is that youshouldn’t.”
“And why would you want to?” Sylvester asked, obviously feeling the need to straighten his own perfectly tailored clothing. “It’s most undignified to present yourself that way.”
“You need to remain respectfully clothed at all times for the benefit of your staff, if not for yourself,” Hector added to make sure he wasn’t left out of the criticism for what they considered such careless behavior for the mere satisfaction of being comfortable. “Besides, you are no longer alone. You have three guests.”
“What?” Zane argued defiantly. “This is ridiculous. You aren’t guests. You’re family. And I doubt any of you or my staff would faint or go running to the gossipmongers for seeing me without my coat.”
“Why take the chance?” Uncle Syl asked.
Zane fumed and continued with his steely expression. He hadn’t asked to be the earl, but now that he was, he should be able to set his own standards in his own home. That should be the one place he could relax and be himself.
Yet, all three remained unyielding in their posture, along with Hector agitatedly tapping his cane. Frustrating as it was, Zane only had two viable options. He could extend and hold out and ignore their bluster abouthisrights inhishouse, or give into their demands, find out what they wanted, grant it to pacify them, and send them on their way as quickly as possible.
It was Sunday, for heaven’s sake. Each one of them should have been in church, not pestering him.
“All right,” he declared in a nonconciliatory tone, swinging his coat from the back of his chair.
This was why he didn’t know if he had the fortitude to be a good earl. This was why his uncle, his uncle’s son, and Zane’s cousin should have never been riding in that carriage together, should have never died and left the unimaginable task of dealing with this family to him. He simply wasn’t good at it.
He would never be patient enough. He had been quite happy with his life as it had been before the title fell to him.
Damnation, he wished it hadn’t.
It wasn’t in his nature to want to please people. He wanted to livehislifehisway and allow others to do as they wished. No doubt the previous earl and the previous two heirs would have loved sitting at the breakfast table buttoned up to the neck, wearing a coat that fit like a glove but was a hell of a lot less comfortable.
