“I have come for the Season. It’s time I had a bit of a frolic.” She made a face. “Your aunt has worn my nerves to a frazzle—and that McNamara woman! Between the two of them I thought I might go mad. So, here I am.”
To drive him mad? He went to stare at the array of food. “Are we expecting guests? At breakfast?”
“That is a typical breakfast for an English lord, Tensford. Hundreds of peers across London are surveying the same sort of spread. You are an earl. It’s time you lived like one.”
“I am an earl with few funds. We are a family with very little money, Mother.” Thanks in largest part to her. “And I’ve told you time and again, you must learn to live like it.”
“You don’t mean that I should scrape and pinch in London, surely?” she asked, aghast.
“I do. Unless you wish me to have to lease this house, as well?”
Horror filled her expression. “You wouldn’t!”
“I would. We eat simply here, Mother. We live simply. If you cannot abide by this one necessary edict, you may take yourself off to a hotel for the Season. I know your widow’s portion will cover the expense.”
He had never asked her to contribute her funds to aid Greystone’s failing conditions.
She had never offered.
She waved off his suggestion, now. “That money must go to the modistes. It’s been several years since I came to Town. I am in need of a new wardrobe if I am to assist as chaperone to Miss McNamara.”
He set his plate down, still empty. “Miss McNamara?”
“Yes. Although the mother is a forward, vulgar thing, the daughter is quite easy to get along with.”
Quite willing to stroke his mother’s vanity, he suspected.
“The girl has been everything friendly and is very eager to learn. When she was invited to stay with friends in London this spring, she begged me to come along and show her how to get on.”
And to gain her entrance into Society events, no doubt.
“I daresay she will become quite a success. Really, Tensford, you should look to her before she is snatched out from under your nose.”
Before he could reply to this sally, Higgins appeared in the doorway. “Miss McNamara has arrived, sir.”
He looked to his mother.
She looked away. “Oh, I did invite her to breakfast with us, as she and I are going to start our shopping this morning.”
“Good morning!” Miss McNamara breezed into the room, going straight to his mother and stopping to kiss her on the cheek. “My dear Lady Tensford.” She stood and smiled at him, then dropped into a credible curtsy. “Lord Tensford. Thank you for the kind invitation.”
He nodded. She was pretty, in a sharp corners and angular planes sort of way. He’d met her several times before and found her swift, darting gaze to be unnerving. Mostly because he sensed a cold and calculating mind behind it.
“Come and sit beside me, Miss McNamara. Tensford will fill you a plate.”
“Oh, thank you. How lovely.” Seating herself, she looked around with interest. “Your home is quite remarkable, my lord. Portman Square is so very impressive.” She raised her brows toward his mother. “And quite fashionable, is it not?”
“Of course,” his mother assured her.
The women spoke a little of the best London addresses and then moved on to the best London shops. Tensford fixed a plate for their guest and one for himself.
His mother rose just as he moved to sit and eat.
“I’ve finished,” she announced. “I’ll just go and fetch my things before we go. You two talk a little, get to know each other. I’ll only be a moment.”
He stared after her. He’d never seen her fetch anything in his life, not for herself or anyone else.
Silence reigned for a few moments, broken only by the clink of silver on china.
“Your mother is very kind,” Miss McNamara said eventually.
He made a noncommittal sound and covered it with a bite of bacon.
“I suppose you know she thinks to push us together.”
He looked up to find her watching him with a measuring eye.
“I hadn’t thought to go along with it at first.” Her gaze roamed over him. “Too provincial, I thought. But you do look a sight better in your Town clothes, my lord.” She pointed with her fork. “I prefer this version over the dusty farmer.”
His jaw tightened.
“Then, too, I did not understand how marriages work amongst the peerage, but now I do.”
“Then you have me at a disadvantage. I do not know what you mean.”
She leaned forward. “Let us not talk around it. You have the title and the land. I have the money.” Her shoulder lifted. “I doubt I’ll have trouble providing you the requisite heir and spare, and once they are safely ensconced in the nursery . . . we can each do what we wish.”
“What we wish?” he croaked, astonished.
“Yes. You enjoy the country life, down to the lowest aspects. I’ve seen you at work on the barns or in the fields.” She shuddered. “I find it all exceedingly dull. I prefer the excitement of Town. You can stay on the estate and perhaps I will take this place.” She looked around, nodding. “I could do quite a bit with it, given time and money.” She smiled at him. “You’ll have your life. I’ll have mine. Et voilà! Everyone is happy.”
He sat, stunned, while an image rose, of such a future. It was all too easy to imagine, unfortunately. Yet his brain shied away.
Instead it tried to conjure
