Albina was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “What is he like?”
“The boy is perfectly pleasant,” Temperance said. “Covered in mud and entirely unapologetic about it, which I found I did not mind.”
“I meant the heir,” Albina said.
Temperance looked at Soot. “Tall,” she said. “Very sure of himself. He has documentation.”
“Of course he does,” Albina said, in the tone of a woman who had expected nothing less from the universe.
“He says Father left everything to him as a business arrangement,” Temperance said. “He says we are in his care now and that he intends to provide for us.” She said the last part with the flatness it deserved, and Albina received it with a slight tightening around her eyes that was the closest she came to expressing something she had decided not to express.
“Well,” Albina said.
“Yes,” Temperance agreed.
They sat with it for a moment. Biscuit shifted on Albina’s lap and made a sound of mild complaint, and she put her hand on him absently.
“Did he seem cruel?” Albina asked.
Temperance thought about it honestly. “No,” she said. “He seemed certain. Which is its own kind of difficult.”
Albina nodded slowly. “And the boy,” she said. “How old?”
“Nine or ten, I think. He has his father’s eyes.” She paused. “He asked about the dogs.”
Something softened in Albina’s expression at that. “Did he.”
“He seemed to find the number of them surprising,” Temperance said. “I had the impression he was not used to animals in the house.”
“Then he has a great deal to learn,” Albina said, and there was something almost fond in her voice, which was entirely typical of her mother, who had always found it easier to extend warmth to strangers than most people managed with their closest friends.
Temperance looked at her. “Are you not concerned?”
“Of course I am concerned,” Albina said pleasantly. “I am simply choosing not to show it this evening, as there is nothing useful tobe done about it tonight and I would rather finish my tea.” She picked up her cup. “We will deal with him in the morning.”
“He wants to speak tomorrow,” Temperance said.
“Then we will speak tomorrow,” Albina said. “Tonight, he can find his own way around.” She looked at Temperance over the rim of her cup with the steady, unhurried expression she had when she was being more serious than she appeared. “Are you all right?”
Temperance looked at the fire. At the dogs and the teacups and the room that was theirs, that had been theirs, that she had spent three years making into something that felt like home.
“I will be,” she said.
CHAPTER 4
The Duke of Sedgewick was seated at the head of the table when she arrived at breakfast the next morning.
This was the first surprise.
The head of the table had been Albina’s since the day her husband died. It had not occurred to Temperance, in the vague mental preparation she had done for this morning, that Harper Crauford would simply sit down at the head of the table as though it had always been his.
She should, she reflected, have anticipated that.
He was dressed with the same impeccable precision as the night before and he was reading what appeared to be a letter, which he did not look up from as she entered.
Beside him was Joseph. The boy was also dressed impeccably. If not for the slight flicker of recognition in his eyes when sheappeared in the doorway, she might have wondered if she had imagined the whole thing that happened yesterday for he looked like a changed boy.
On the table between them was a rack of toast, a pot of tea that had clearly just been poured, and two plates.
