Page 29
First, Theran would seek his aunt and uncle and apprise them of the situation with the Ceddes and Purity, then wish his daughter good morning. Hopefully, Spottswood would promptly find suitable candidates for a governess, and Theran could conduct interviews next week at Mottford Hall. Mayhap his aunt would be willing to sit in on the discussions.
Satisfied with the course he’d selected, Theran left his chamber.
He passed the letter to a footman in the foyer a few minutes later. “Would you see that this is posted at once, Dowell?”
Theran handed the fellow a few coins, including a generous tip.
“At once, Mr. Rutland.” Grinning, Dowell put two gloved fingers to his forehead.
Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the half-hour. His aunt would be in her salon attending to her morning devotions.
Every day, without fail, from eight to half-past.
Good God.
Was that something Miss Mayfield did as well?
Yes, indeed. It was wise to have kicked the preposterous notion of hiring Purity to Timbuctoo. Never again would he permit his mind to trudge down the rocky track.
“I say, Rutland,” Devin Everingham called. “You stood us up for the cricket match. We lost, and Grafton has had a jolly good time rubbing our noses in it for the past two days.”
Theran faced the stately curved staircase.
Everingham, accompanied by Hemsworth, sauntered down the dark walnut steps. Both appeared a bit bleary-eyed. Likely, they stayed up far too late and drank far too much. Before he met Imogene, Theran would’ve been right there with them. Now such pursuits didn’t appeal.
“Are you on for the boat race today, or do we need to find a third?” Hemsworth asked before yawning widely.
“Forgive me.” Theran offered an apologetic grin. “An urgent incident with my daughter required my attention. Nothing else would’ve kept me away.”
He hadn’t had a chance to talk with either and apologize. If there were fewer than a hundred people here already, he’d have been surprised.
“S’pose you’re forgiven then,” Everingham allowed. He did a sweep of the entry before saying, “Bernadine is well?”
Theran nodded. “She is.”
“Heard there was a bit of a dustup with Miss Sommerville the other day,” Hemsworth ventured.
Of course they’d heard. Undoubtedly, so had the rest of the guests.
“Yes.” Theran gave a curt nod. He’d prefer not to discuss the details when anyone might come upon them. “She has returned to her mother’s home.”
Her stepfather’s too, but Athena had never taken to her mother’s second husband.
“Prudent on your part.” Hemsworth nodded and brushed his chin with his hand. “Never liked the chit. She always looked at you like a sweetmeat she wanted to devour.”
“You might’ve told me that before. I only just became aware of Athena’s tendre,” Theran said, unable to completely hide his derision.
“Nothing for it.” Offering an apologetic grin, Hemsworth held up both hands. “I don’t poke my nose in others’ business.”
“Since when?” Everingham guffawed. “You love nothing better than to offer unsolicited advice.”
“Stow it, Everingham,” Hemsworth grumbled good-naturedly.
For all of their bantering, they were the best of chums. Loyal and trustworthy fellows, and Theran counted himself fortunate that they were amongst his friends.
“Ah, there you are, Theran.” Uncle Herbert, wearing his usual charcoal-gray suit and immaculate cravat, his mouth curved into his perpetual smile, strode into the foyer. “Your aunt and I would like a word with you before breakfast, please.”
What now?
