Page 5

Barclay narrowed his eyes. “Nursery?”

The ginger-haired servant straightened up, looking down his hawkish nose with the utmost dignity. “Indeed, sir. The nursery.”

Barclay’s lips thinned as he thought. The Thompson family was inseparable, and Tatiana had never been sequestered on a different floor, with only servants to interact with. Not only that, but his child had struggled with night terrors since her mother died, and he frequently attended her at night. When he was traveling, his mother took his place in comforting her.

Barclay shot a perturbed look at Aurora, who held up her hands in question. They had failed to think about what the arrangements for his young daughter would be at such a country house, but Barclay should have predicted these circumstances as a man who drew plans of these homes for the wealthy. However, he personally had never subscribed to the notion that children should be kept separate from the family.

He frowned. Agreeing to attend the house party was a mistake. He should have insisted they remain in London. Now Tsar was handling his work for him, which was more than the old man should deal with, and his daughter was peering up in fright at the servant.

“Papa?” Her voice quavered.

“It will not do.”

The butler tensed, clearly uncertain how to respond. “Sir, I assure you that the nursery is well-attended and there are several children already arrived. We set aside a place of honor for your daughter⁠—”

“It will not do.” Barclay ensured his voice was firm but low. He did not want to alarm Tatiana any more than she already was. “Do not worry, Tatiana. We will return home if we must.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the earl rushing over. His new brother must have noticed the stiffness of the interaction, as he appeared mildly alarmed.

“Is there an issue?”

“Your butler wishes to remove my daughter to the attics, like some sort of prisoner. I know how the peerage treat their children, and it will not be tolerated in the Thompson family.”

Richard bit his lip. “Barclay, I assure you we are not a traditional family of the nobility. My son, Ethan, joins me for breakfast each morning before we ride together. Then he goes to the lovely and well-equipped nursery for lessons and whatnot before coming back downstairs for family time.”

Barclay straightened to his full height, satisfied to discover he was a good inch taller than his younger brother. “I thought you married earlier this year?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“You are a young man. The countess must be your first wife?”

Richard’s expression reflected strain. “Yes.”

His new brother was turning out to be no better than his debauched sire, who had ruined his mother. Barclay struck without sympathy. “How do you have a son old enough to breakfast with you?”

“An astute question,” a velvet voice drawled from behind his shoulder, but Barclay did not react. He merely listened while firming his jaw to glare at the earl. “I thought the entire kingdom knew my brother had sired a son on the wrong side of the blanket.”

Barclay narrowed his eyes into an accusing stare. The earl fidgeted uncomfortably with his cravat, a telling gesture. “It is not what you think. I did not know about Ethan … I mean …”

“Calm yourself, brother.” The voice moved as a man stepped around into Barclay’s view to reveal the earl’s apparent twin, who bowed. “Good afternoon, Barclay. I am Peregrine Balfour. Your younger brother.” The gentleman’s sable locks, square jaw, and emerald eyes were a mirror of his older brother’s. “I assure you that my brother claimed Ethan as his own the moment he learned of him. Subsequently, he posed that perhaps our father had sired children we did not know of and set his men to finding you. There is little resemblance between him and the late Earl of Satan.”

Barclay sized up the newcomer carefully. “You just married?”

Peregrine inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I did. I married Ethan’s cousin, Emma Davis. The entire Davis family has just departed for their estate, which my brother gifted them. As I said—no resemblance. My brother is a good man with a notorious past, which he has taken pains to set right.”

Richard closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he appeared more composed, his cravat only slightly crumpled. “I apologize for not explaining the circumstances before your visit. It was difficult to inform you, considering your circumstances. I had hoped to discuss it in my study before Ethan came down to play chess with the family this afternoon.”

Barclay sighed in capitulation, relaxing his stance. “I appreciate that this is an awkward situation we find ourselves in. However, my daughter is accustomed to being close to her family.”

The men turned to acknowledge Aurora, who had joined them and appeared disconcerted by the two brothers, her eyes darting from one to the other. Barclay wondered if they resembled the late Earl of Satan in their coloring, their features and height being similar to his own. Was it a strain for her to return to the site of her social ruin after these many years?

Stepping forward, the earl took up her hand, bowing solemnly. “Miss Thompson, it is our great pleasure to host you. Please allow me to introduce my brother, Peregrine Balfour.” Perry stepped forward, bowing deeply.

Barclay’s mother responded with a dignified curtsy. “My lord. The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” Then she moved her head to the side to pout at Tatiana, who giggled in response, hiding behind Barclay.

“I am afraid both the family wing and the guest wing are fully occupied. There are no rooms left for Tatiana.”

She smiled graciously. “Then Tatiana will sleep in my room. In the guest wing.”