His gloved hand was firm and reassuring, and she blinked, momentarily distracted. “There was no need, my lord,” she lied. “I was simply hoping to discuss—”
“Oh, my dear cousin, and I hope I may call you cousin. And please, you must call me Marcus. We are, after all, distantly related. ”
Elinor blinked, not expecting such forceful graciousness, and then she pulled herself together. Perhaps because of The Nose, he looked very much like her father, dispelling her distant hope that he might be an interloper. Not that that would have been to her advantage—the estate would presumably have gone on to an even more remote relative, or returned to the Crown.
“Cousin Marcus,” she said, sinking back into her chair. “You’re very gracious. Please sit, sir. May I offer you tea? Perhaps something to eat?”
“You are more than kind,” he said, taking the seat opposite her with a flourish of his elegant coat. “Tea would be delightful. I am so pleased to see you living in such obvious comfort. I confess that when I reached the neighborhood I was sorely distressed that my cousins should have fallen upon such poverty, but I am relieved to see that things are not so dire. Tell me how I may assist you, cousin, and I will endeavor to do so. ”
He had a warm, confiding smile, and she told herself to breathe a sigh of relief. “Mr. Mitchum mentioned that there was a small legacy left to me. I’m afraid our current circumstances aren’t as comfortable as they might appear—we are living on the charity of a wealthy benefactor, and that help might disappear. I would prefer not to have to rely on others for our well-being, and I wondered what the nature of the legacy might be. ” She chose her words carefully, determined not to sound greedy.
She hadn’t been careful enough. “Wealthy benefactor?” he said, frowning. “And who might that be?”
The King of Hell. The most profligate man in France and probably England as well, the Lord of the Heavenly Host. If she told him the truth, her cousin would walk away in disgust and horror.
“He prefers to remain anonymous,” she said. Astonishing how easy it was to lie when it was necessary. In truth, Viscount Rohan probably did prefer that people didn’t know he was supplying them with both the necessities and the elegancies of life and so far had sought nothing in return. Their knowing would destroy his ruthless, soulless reputation.
“Ah,” said the newly minted baron. “I wish I could thank him myself for his kindness to my kinswomen. And may I ask where the rest of your family is? My lawyers inform me that your mother still lives, though she is quite ill. ”
“Not for much longer. She’s not conscious, but extremely agitated, and it might be for the best if you didn’t see her. ”
“Nonsense,” he said, having acquired a lordly manner in very little time. “I must pay my respects to the former baroness. ” He rose, and Elinor rose as well, inwardly cursing him. She could throw herself in front of him in an effort to stall him, but in the end it would do her no good. So she simply nodded.
“Of course,” she said, resigned. “This way. ”
It was scarcely a long walk in their cluttered little house, made worse by the comfortable furniture Lord Rohan had sent them. Her cousin made a muffled groan when he accidentally rammed his hip against the sideboard that held the exquisite glassware that had arrived four days ago. She moved ahead of him and pushed open the door of the sickroom, bracing herself.
They’d taken the restraints off Lady Caroline over a week ago, as her state of malaise seemed to deepen. Nanny Maude would coax a little chicken broth down her throat, and every now and then Caroline opened her eyes. Nanny was perched in the comfortable chair beside the bed, the chair thanks to Lord Rohan, as well as the warm, rich blankets that covered her mother’s frail form.
“Nanny Maude, this is our cousin, the new Lord Tolliver. Cousin Marcus, this is Nanny Maude, who’s been with us all our lives and takes excellent care of us. ”
Nanny rose painfully, her dark eyes narrowed as she assessed the newcomer. “Good afternoon, my lord,” she said, managing a sketch of a curtsy. To the casual observer it was all right and proper, but Elinor had the strange sense that something wasn’t right. Nanny was staring at him with an odd expression on her face.
He gave her a polite nod and moved to stand over Lady Caroline. To Elinor’s amazement, her mother opened her eyes, focusing on the man in her room.
“Who are you?” she demanded in a voice that was little more than a croak. They were her first lucid words in more than a week.
“Your late husband’s heir, Lady Caroline,” he said pleasantly. “Marcus Harriman. ”
“Marcus, eh?” She struggled to sit up, and Nanny quickly moved to her side, trying to calm her, but the glint of madness was back in her eyes. “Come here. Closer. ”
“Don’t,” Elinor muttered, uneasy.
“You’re being absurd, Cousin Elinor. She’s hardly in any shape to hurt me. ” He moved next to the bed. “Is there any way I can assist you, Lady Caroline?”
“Closer,” she said.
He leaned over her, taking one clawlike hand in his, and before Elinor could cry out, her mother managed to pull him off balance, so that he tumbled onto the bed with her, and one of her gnarled hands clawed at the front of his breeches as she began to curse and shout, terrible, filthy words, animal words.
Marcus scrambled to his feet, horrified, and Elinor took his arm, pulling him from the room. “She’s not well,” she said helplessly.
He was bleeding—she’d managed to scratch his face, and as Elinor shut the door firmly behind them she could still hear her mother’s screams, followed by Nanny’s soothing words. She half expected him to brush off her offer of assistance, to storm from the house in disgust, but he simply looked at her with pity.
“You poor girl. ”
It was almost enough to make her weep. Almost. She’d shown that weakness only once in her memory, in front of the worst possible person. She wasn’t going to succumb to it again.
“We manage,” she said briskly. “The doctor says she hasn’t long left, and these bouts of excitation simply mean the end is coming closer. Nanny Maude is wonderfu