Jason shook his head, wagged his finger at her. “You baggage, where are your manners? You will shock poor Lord Renfrew. Who did you say you were, Lord Renfrew? A longtime friend of Miss Carrick’s? Perhaps a friend of her father’s? You don’t have a grandfather still living, do you, Hallie?”
“No, my father’s father died many years ago, long before I was born. My father became Baron Sherard when he was only seventeen. Genny’s father died when I was only five.”
Lord Renfrew said, “I came into my title two years ago. I am Viscount Renfrew, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” Jason said, “but it has a nice ring to it.”
“I would like my tea.”
“Certainly,” Hallie said, pouring a cup and nearly spilling it in his lap when Lord Renfrew said to Jason, “I am a very close friend of Miss Carrick’s. Indeed, it would be more accurate to say that we were beyond close. I never met her father, although I would have met both her parents if things had progressed in the smooth way they were meant to progress.”
Hallie said to Jason, “It’s hard to be smooth when one is picking flowers in another garden, don’t you think?”
The air pulsed with hot silence, until Jason said, voice limp as a dead lily, “So you excel at growing flowers, my lord? Perhaps you will give us advice on what to do with our gardens. My mother planted the primroses beneath the front windows. Alas, neither Hallie nor I have much of an eye for blooms.”
“I don’t either,” Lord Renfrew said, and added a fourth spoonful of sugar to his tea.
“Then why would you be picking flowers? Oh, I see, you are a romantic, not a connoisseur.”
Lord Renfrew stirred another spoonful of sugar into his tea. It was nearly painful to watch him drink it, but Jason nodded and continued to smile.
“Look here,” Lord Renfrew said, waving his teacup, so full of sugar Hallie was surprised he could lift it, “none of this is to the point.”
“What is the point?” Jason asked politely.
“It is very strange to have a lady standing whilst the two of us are sitting.”
“Possibly so,” Jason said. “However, unlike you, I am not slurping tea in a lady’s presence. I think Hallie must realize how thoughtful and polite I am, thus making her more accommodating.” He gave her a smile that would have made Mrs. Millsom swoon again.
Lord Renfrew saw that smile, knew there was power in that damned smile, and it burned him to his feet. Bastard, damned toad of a second-son bastard. He’d always recognized that the Sherbrooke twins were considered very handsome men, but since he himself wasn’t an affliction to the female eye and had always been admired by both men and women-perhaps women a bit more than men, as he’d been told many times-he hadn’t begrudged them their additional dollop of physical beauty. He did now. He saw the clout of that beautiful face aimed at Hallie, and hated the man to his toes. He wanted to seduce her, he wanted her money. This wasn’t to be borne. “Miss Carrick, I am Lord Grimsby’s guest, Viscount Merlin Grimsby of Abbott Grange. I am here to ask you to attend a ball this Thursday evening, a ball in my honor, and you would be my special guest.”
Jason leapt to his feet. “A ball? Did you say a ball? I haven’t been invited to a ball since my return to England. I would be delighted to attend, my lord. I shall bring Hallie with me. Do you have a suitable gown, Hallie?”
“Will it be a costume ball, sir?”
“No. It will be a regular sort of ball. Actually, Mr. Sherbrooke, I only-”
“I believe I packed away a lovely medieval maiden’s gown in one of my trunks. A pity it isn’t a costume ball.”
“I am certain the gown is lovely, Miss Carrick-Hallie-but it is, as I said, a regular sort of ball. Mr. Sherbrooke, about the ball, I can only invite-”
“I know what you are thinking, my lord,” Jason said, “and you are right to be concerned that I have been out of civilized England for too long, that I have nothing fashionable to wear. I will ask my brother. He’s the viscount, you know, and he is always a well-dressed fellow. Sometimes he gives me his last-year britches, sometimes even his coats. Very few stains since his valet is such a superb fellow.
“As for Hallie, I believe my brother’s wife could lend her something. Don’t worry, my lord, both of us, I fancy, will look quite dashing.”
“Miss Carrick is rich; she has many gowns, all lovely. Besides, since she is rich, surely she wouldn’t lower herself to borrow anything from your blasted sister-in-law.”
Hallie said, “I must say it’s ever so predictable you remembered the groats in my pockets, though I’m not surprised. I think a ball would be delightful. Thank you for inviting us. Jason, do you know Lord Grimsby?”
“Oh yes, though I haven’t seen him in a long time, since James and I were at Oxford and observed him with a delightful young lady who, I believe, was no relation to him at all.”
“Now, see here, Mr. Sherbrooke. Lord Grimsby wasn’t all that old then.”
Hallie said, “Isn’t Lord Grimsby married?”
“I was being indelicate,” Jason said. “When James and I were quite small, Lord Grimsby let us ride his prize pigs, big pigs, you understand, so fat they could barely walk and thus weren’t hazardous to the health of two three-year-old boys.”
“Your father let you ride pigs?”
Jason nodded. “He said if we could stay on Ronnie and Donnie’s backs for three minutes without sliding off, we would be ready for our own ponies.”
Lord Renfrew said, disdain radiating from his lovely tall self, “I have never ridden a pig in my life.”
“Well, I haven’t since I was three-and-a-half and my father set me on my first pony. How about you, Hallie?”
“I wish I had the memory of a fat pig from my childhood, but alas-you know that my father and I sailed everywhere when I was little and the deck rocked too much for livestock to roam about.” She turned to Lord Renfrew. “Perhaps you were too young to remember your pig-riding.”
“Of course I would remember. I don’t.” He shut his mouth. He was in Bedlam. This was absurd, ridiculous. Both his host and hostess were smiling at him, ready to offer him more tea, ready to misunderstand what he said. He rose, bowed in Hallie’s direction, sighed, knew there was no hope for it. It was either both or none. “I will see you Thursday night. Mr. Sherbrooke, it’s been pleasurably irksome to meet you.”
He bowed again and nearly ran from the drawing room. They heard Petrie’s rapid footsteps toward the front door. “Oh, my lord, do give me just a moment. The door is heavy, it must be opened just right. I am re-prepared, and at your endless service.”
They didn’t hear a word from Lord Renfrew. The front door closed, a bit on the loud side. A moment later, Petrie appeared in the drawing room doorway. “How very odd, Master Jason, the gentleman didn’t take his hat or cane, and you can be sure I held them both out to him.”
CHAPTER 24
The Dauntry mare, Penelope, was made at home in the stall next to Delilah’s, where it soon became apparent that they didn’t like each other. Jason and Hallie watched Henry jerk Delilah back before she could sink her healthy yellow teeth in Penelope’s lovely chestnut neck.
“It’s because of Dodger,” Jason said to Hallie. “Both Delilah and Penelope want him. They know they’re beautiful, used to winning, and have sharp teeth. What will we do?”
“Let them tear each other’s manes out,” Hallie said.
Jason laughed. “What a sight that would be. No, it’s a sight I never want to see again in my life. Put her in the end stall, Henry.”
Henry looped Penelope’s lead reins around his hand. Her new accommodation was probably too close to Dodger’s stall because Delilah whinnied, tossed her head, and kicked out, making the wood shudder. As for Piccola, she continued to chew on her hay, her eyelids heavy. Dodger looked up to see what the excitement was about, saw Penelope swaying toward him, and nodded his big head. “I swear his ears perked up,” Jason said, “when Penelope came into his view.”
Henry called over his shoulder, “I will take his sultanship into a paddock so we’ll have no more carryings-on
