“Not at all.” He put his arm around her waist and held her close to his side.
Glover appeared again and announced that dinner would be served. He opened the doors to the adjoining dining room. Before Rafe could approach Anne to escort her in—and she wasn’t sure he would have, but would tell herself that he planned to—Lorcan came to her side and offered his arm.
In the dining room, Rafe sat at the head while Selina and Beatrix sat on either side of him. Their husbands sat next to them while Deborah was seated beside Lord Rockbourne, much to her dismay. But then Anne doubted there was anywhere she could sit at the table that wouldn’t have been displeasing to her. Her father took the chair next to her, while Anne sat next to Mr. Sheffield with Lorcan on her other side.
A dark red claret was poured, and the first course of dishes set upon the table. The room was completely silent, but a thick tension clogged the air.
“This house is spectacular,” Anne’s godfather said, looking around the room with its ivory, red, and gold décor. A magnificent mirror surmounted the hearth, reflecting the hundreds of candles flickering in the chandeliers and in the sconces on the walls. There were also several large, stunning portraits, including one by Joshua Reynolds. “You appear to be a man of great means.” He picked up his wineglass, settling his gaze on their host over the rim.
“Thank you.” Rafe’s voice was even, his eyes cool. “I’m new to Mayfair and this house. I’ve enjoyed the decorating of it.” He said nothing to address her godfather’s last comment. What could he say? Anne realized she was also curious as to how he’d made his fortune.
“I should say,” Deborah remarked as she held her wineglass aloft. “The paintings in this room alone would be the envy of anyone who appreciates art. One can only wonder what the rest of the house looks like.” It was clear to Anne that she wanted to see it for herself.
“Yes, I imagine one can,” Beatrix said with an overly sweet smile. “I can tell you the art in the gallery is even more impressive. And the library…well, I am not sure you will find its equal in Mayfair.”
Deborah’s eyes narrowed as she sipped her wine. No, sip wasn’t right—she took a very long drink, draining nearly half the glass. She glanced toward the footman to refill it.
After several moments during which the tension seemed to increase, Rafe set his soup spoon down and addressed the table. His blue eyes glimmered in the candlelight, and his hair seemed to shine like gold. “It is my hope that we can find a way to be a family.” He glanced toward Selina. “My sister and I have only had each other—until Selina was fortunate enough to meet Beatrix—and the prospect of family is something we never imagined. To find our uncle…” He looked to Anne’s godfather. “To be reunited with our father’s brother is beyond comprehension. I know this must be a terrible shock for you, as it is for us. But in the end, it will hopefully be a good thing.”
The former earl stared at him. “That depends. Do you plan to leave us destitute?”
Sheffield coughed. “That is not Mr. Mallory’s intent.” Rafe was Mr. Mallory now? She supposed he was and that her godfather was still the earl. At least until the Committee for Privileges voted. “He does, however, intend to be the earl as that is his birthright. All entailed estates will, of course, be his. The only properties that are not entailed are your house here in London and Kilmaar in Ireland. The former was purchased by you, so that will remain yours. That you used money that is almost certainly the rightful asset of Mr. Mallory is not something he wishes to contest.” Sheffield transferred his attention to Lorcan. “Furthermore, he would like to gift Kilmaar to you.”
Lorcan’s mouth dropped open, and he clanged his spoon down against his bowl. He stared at Rafe. “You don’t want it?”
“You do. It’s been made clear to me that it’s important to you. I can’t imagine I’ll have occasion to visit Ireland regularly. I would like to see it once, however. Perhaps you’ll accommodate me.” He smiled at Lorcan, and Anne knew in that moment that she definitely hadn’t fallen out of love with him.
“You will be welcome any time. Forever.” Lorcan glanced toward his father before continuing. “You didn’t have to be generous. I keep trying to imagine how I would feel in your position. You must be so angry.”
It took Rafe a moment to reply. During that time, he exchanged a meaningful look with Selina. “Yes. It’s not that I am upset about being denied my birthright. I am, of course, but it’s more than that. I am deeply troubled by losing my parents and being stolen away. I would like to know why.”
“So would I,” Selina said. “My life would have been different—it should have been.” She turned a frigid stare on Deborah. “Just think if I had been the daughter of an earl at Mrs. Goodwin’s. Imagine us growing up as cousins and how differently you would have treated me.”
Deborah had the grace to look down at her soup. She reached for her wine again and took another substantial drink.
Anne wondered if Deborah would apologize. Not tonight, but perhaps someday. Anne hoped so and planned to talk to her about it.
“Lorcan, I appreciate you trying to understand how we feel,” Selina said. “That means a great deal to me. And to Rafe, I’m sure.”
“It does,” Rafe agreed. “I am going to need all the help I can get. I was not raised in this environment.”
“You can count on my support.” Lorcan lifted his glass in a silent toast.
Sheffield set his glass down after sipping his wine and fixed his attention on the current earl. “Can we also rely on you to provide guidance to
