“Wait!” Clarice set down her teacup, then looked at each of their faces. Not one showed any hint of a cloud on their horizon. She had to wonder…“What’s happened to Moira?” She looked from one grinning face to the other. “Where is Moira?”
Alton smiled beatifically. “At the moment, she’s on her way to Hamleigh House.”
“What?” Clarice was stupefied.
A state her brothers seemed to relish. Nigel chortled. “It was really something, you know. Vesuvius erupting at the breakfast table, fireworks exploding—pity you missed it.”
Roger grinned, unrepentant but understanding. “Alton’s banished her.”
Clarice couldn’t speak. Couldn’t find words, couldn’t get her tongue around them. She stared at Alton. He grinned back, so transparently pleased with himself she didn’t like to ask, but she had to know. “Why? And how?”
She wasn’t entirely surprised when they all sobered. They exchanged glances; she held up a hand. “Just tell me. No roundaboutation, if you please.”
Alton grimaced. “She waltzed into the breakfast parlor this morning in high dudgeon. She wanted—no, she insisted—that I banish you again.”
“She screamed and moaned and gnashed her teeth,” Nigel supplied.
Alton nodded. “Over the family, about how they were treating her now you were back, and so on.”
“Helen’s ball was the last straw, it seemed,” Roger put in.
“That I can understand,” Clarice returned. “But surely you didn’t banish her for a little ranting.”
Alton frowned. “It wasn’t just a little.”
“Well, you can imagine what she said about you,” Nigel said.
“But anyway, that wasn’t all. When I refused to banish you, she threatened us, but not just us. She threatened Sarah and the others, but Sarah most of all…” Alton grimaced sheepishly. “I lost my temper.”
“He roared at her.” Nigel’s expression clearly stated he’d enjoyed every minute.
Clarice blinked.
“Didn’t know he had it in him,” Roger put in. “Not at that volume, anyway.”
Alton glared at his brothers. “Regardless, it couldn’t go on, her constantly threatening us, trying to manage everything to benefit her darling Carlton.” His voice hardened. “She pushed me too far, and I pushed back. I told her that, given all she’d said about our three wives-to-be, she was no longer welcome at any of the family’s major estates. I told her she could go to Hamleigh”—Alton glanced at Jack—“it’s a small manor the family own in Lancashire—and I’d pick up the household bills and she could live off her jointure, or she could go and stay with her daughters and their husbands if she chose, but she was not to set foot in any of the family’s other houses again, and not to show her face in London again, either.”
Clarice couldn’t believe it. “And she agreed?”
Nigel grinned even more. “That was the best part. I thought she was going to have an apoplexy right there over the breakfast table.”
Alton frowned him down. “Of course she didn’t agree. She ranted and raved and threatened some more, until I informed her that we understood she wanted Carlton to marry well, but that that was hardly likely to occur if we let it be known that he wasn’t Papa’s get.”
Chapter 19
Clarice knew her mouth was falling open, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. She gaped at Alton, finally managed to find breath enough to say, “You knew?”
Alton frowned. “No. That is, I only learned of it last evening when I dropped by Gribbley and Sons to check the figures for the settlements. Old Gribbley had heard of my plans—he called me into his office to congratulate me and reminisce about how Papa would have seen the match. While doing that, he let fall Papa’s views on Carlton’s parentage.”
“Papa knew?” Clarice stared even more.
“Apparently. I gathered it was more than suspicion, but according to Gribbley, with Carlton fourth in line, Papa didn’t care to make a point of it—which sounds like Papa.” Alton shrugged. “I daresay, if he hadn’t died so suddenly, he would have mentioned it to me. As it was, I didn’t know, but Gribbley thought I did.”
Clarice blinked. “But Moira knew you didn’t. After Papa died, she felt perfectly safe in forcing you to dance to her tune.”
“Indeed.”
“But you knew.” Head tilted, Roger was studying her. “How?”