He’d sent word with Mrs. Drummond up to the schoolroom where Livie had been taking a lesson requesting the girl’s presence in the study—or rather, informing Livie that she would appear in the study within the half hour.
That had been an hour ago. Amelia had been coaxing, cajoling, and bidding ever since.
“He isn’t all bad,” she offered. “I find him a reasonable man, if a bit…unbending.”
An unwanted warmth rose to her face as she spoke. She also found him keen, perceptive, and undeniably handsome, but her charge didn’t need to know that.
Livie scowled. “He doesnae belong here.”
“Scone seems to have taken a liking to him,” Amelia said, trying a new tack. “If he can give Lord Brenmore a chance, then so should you.”
The girl’s slim arms fell and she exhaled dramatically. “Aye, but Scone also eats spiders, so I dinnae think we should trust his tastes.”
Amelia had to bite the inside of her cheek to maintain her stern countenance at that. Livie did have a point. Scone’s preference for the Earl defied logic. Lord Brenmore himself seemed more than a little annoyed by the tomcat’s affections.
“Fair enough.”
Amelia released the sigh she’d been holding in. The fact was, no amount of convincing or persuading on her part addressed the underlying problem. Livie wasn’t just refusing to be properly presented to her new guardian. The girl must have sensed that this meeting was more than an introduction.
Lord Brenmore had largely kept himself locked away in the study. According to Mrs. Drummond, he pored over the estate’s ledgers for most of every day. And now he called Livie to him with some clear intention in mind.
Given what the Earl had told her a week past, Amelia feared he’d reached a decision about the estate’s future. Livie, perceptive child that she was, undoubtedly suspected the weighty import of the conversation that awaited her.
And if he had decided to clear the tenants from the land in an effort to preserve Livie’s inheritance, there was no way this meeting would go well.
Amelia sank onto the bench below one of the schoolroom’s windows and motioned Livie to sit beside her. Reluctantly, the girl slunk over and plopped down on the bench.
“Remember when your father had to settle the dispute between the MacLellan family and the neighboring landlord?” Amelia asked, tucking a curly lock of red-gold hair behind Livie’s ear.
Livie looked up at her with suddenly sober, wide eyes. “Aye.”
“It was a most unpleasant matter, as I recall. An accusation of poaching is no light thing.” Amelia paused for a moment. “What do you suppose would have happened if Lord Glenrose had hidden in his chambers and refused to face the situation?”
The girl’s angelic face fell as she realized what Amelia was getting at. But then she firmed her mouth, her gaze turning resolute.
“If Da hadnae spoken for them, our MacLellans wouldnae have stood a chance against Lord Kildrum.”
“Exactly.” Amelia offered the girl a gentle smile. “Your father was a good and honorable man. He faced his challenges, even when they were unpleasant. He would want you to do the same.”
“But Lord Brenmore—”
“—Is your guardian, whether you wish it so or not,” Amelia cut in. “It is time you meet him and hear what he has to say.”
Livie hesitated, but at last she nodded grudgingly. Amelia squeezed Livie’s hand in approval, then the two of them rose and headed toward the study.
They found the door ajar and Lord Brenmore inside, pacing before the tall windows. His head snapped up as they entered, and his gaze instantly fixed on Amelia. Her step faltered as he pinned her with a fierce, ice-blue stare.
It only lasted for a heartbeat before he shifted his gaze to Livie, but Amelia still found herself flustered by the brief locking of their eyes. Lord Brenmore cleared his throat.
“Lady Lavinia.” He gave the girl a stiff, formal bow. “I am pleased to make yer acquaintance at last.”
Livie gave him an unpracticed curtsy in reply, but remained silent.
“I assume ye understand why I am here,” he continued, “and what my role is until ye come of age and become Countess Glenrose.”
“Aye, Lord Brenmore,” Livie replied in a small voice.
He looked at her for a moment, frowning in thought. “Perhaps we ought to get to know one another a wee bit before delving into things. Would ye like tea?”
Livie nodded, so Lord Brenmore called to Mrs. Drummond for a tea tray.
“I can fetch it,” Amelia offered.
“Nay,” Lord Brenmore replied, fixing her with that penetrating gaze once more. “Please stay and join us, Miss Harlow.”
While they waited for the tea, Scone sauntered into the study, pausing to rub against Livie’s leg before approaching the Earl. Lord Brenmore scowled at the cat, but the animal’s presence seemed to set Livie more at ease.
As Mrs. Drummond laid out the tea and the rest of them took seats in the overstuffed chairs clustered in the center of the study, Livie cautiously asked, “I heard ye are a Highlander, my lord.”
“I am,” he replied, shooing Scone away from the tea tray and taking up his cup.
“Ye dinnae sound it.”
Lord Brenmore’s lips quirked faintly. “That is because I have lived these past ten years in Edinburgh, surrounded by Lowlanders and interloping Englishmen.”
As he took a sip of tea, his gaze slid to Amelia over the rim of his cup, a wry tease in his light eyes. She found herself smiling at his gentle jab as she lifted her own steaming cup. So, that explained his strange accent. But with that small tidbit of information, Amelia was left with more questions than answers.
It wasn’t her place to speak,
