Lyon's Gate (Sherbrooke Brides 9)

Lady Lydia said, “Angela has told me all the laughter comes from Petrie—the butler, Lord Renfrew, not from anyone else. Hallie’s lady’s maid is always telling Petrie jokes.”

As a distraction, Jason thought, it was well done.

Corrie, her head cocked to one side, said, “Petrie laughing at something a woman says? That doesn’t sound like the Petrie I know. Petrie is a misogynist. Grandmama-in-law, why are you rolling your eyes at me? Why, Petrie even claimed I didn’t really save you, James, that as a female I am only capable of cowering behind a hay bale. He said it was you, James, who saved the day, that because of your extraordinary bravery, you disremembered what miraculous deeds you performed.”

“None of this is to the point,” Lord Renfrew said. “Of course you did not execute any sort of rescue, my lady, such a thing would be in very bad taste. Now, this Petrie fellow, he did serve me tea, but his face was stove-black and he stole my hat and cane.”

“No, that’s impossible,” Jason said. “Petrie told me himself that he disliked the new style in men’s hats, although the cane was all right, save for the ridiculous eagle’s head.”

“My father selected that eagle’s head!”

“Perhaps Petrie sold the hat and cane,” Alex said.

“Hollis always said that Petrie had an excellent eye for goods, that were he a criminal, we would be in trouble.”

Lord Renfrew threw his napkin on his plate. “You are all jesting. I do not like it. My lord, I wished to visit with Miss Carrick, but all these people are interfering.”

Lord Grimsby leaned over to pat Lord Renfrew’s hand. “Simply smile and nod and you will get through it.”

Lord Renfrew said, “I also saw my former head stable lad, Quincy. I can’t imagine how he came to be working for you. He was a shiftless fellow—”

Hallie said, sarcasm dripping out with her words, “Perhaps one should pay one’s servants, Lord Renfrew. That is probably the best solution to any problem.”

“How is Quincy with you?”

“I informed Willicombe, the Sherbrooke butler in London, that we had need of an assistant head stable lad. Quincy was at our door within a day, grinning from ear to ear. He is quite good, you know.”

“Yes, I know. The fellow was good, but he had no loyalty—”

The earl said, “If a man doesn’t pay his dependents, he should be deported to France.”

“Then she should be deported, not I,” said Lord Renfrew, nodding at Hallie. “It is her fault that poor Quincy wasn’t paid. His pay could have been her wedding present to me.”

Hallie was ready to leap over the table and gullet Lord Renfrew with his own fork, when Douglas lightly laid his hand on her sleeve. “I think it’s time I told everyone about my grandsons. Their names are Douglas and Everett. You should see Jason waltz with them—”

Lord Renfrew smiled. “Oh, I see. Well done, my lord. You are endeavoring to show Hallie the glories of having children in the house. Listen, Hallie. I would be a spectacular fathe

r. Only imagine this delightful domestic picture: a handful of children waltzing with their proud papa. Ah, yes, it warms my heart.”

There was a cloud of appalled silence over the table until Lord Grimsby said, “Tell me, Douglas, how much longer do you think King William will last?”

“It’s what follows William that gives me pause, Grim. Oh, who is this now at our table? Another friend of yours, Jason?”

Jason looked up at the distinguished gentleman who bowed, snagged Hallie’s hand, and kissed her fingers. He grinned like a bandit and licked his lips. “Olive bread. It is quite good, isn’t it?”

Hallie raised the fingers of her other hand to her mouth and licked them. “Yes, quite good.”

“I am Grandison, you know.”

James said, “Charles, what on earth are you doing here in the wilds of Sussex? Last I heard you were sailing off the coast of Portugal.”

“No, not Portugal. Ah, James, what a picture you present. Why don’t you gain flesh? Perhaps lose your teeth, shed a bit of hair? And Jason? It has been far too long.”

The twins rose, shook the gentleman’s hand.

Charles Grandison looked closely at Jason. “You look content.”

Jason laughed. “I will be content after Dodger leaves your tired old nag, Ganymede, snorting and sweating in the dirt.”