Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club 5)

Rufus was finally free of his coat, and gave his uncle an old-fashioned look. “Quite so. Where is Great-Aunt Mildred?”

“Resting in her room. She gets very tired and the journey was rather . . . eh, well, never mind that. You’ll all meet her at dinner.”

Hercules decided at that moment to leap up onto a chintz-covered sofa, and Eustace and Violet hurriedly pulled him off. “I think he needs a run in the park,” Eustace said, with a cautious sideways glance at his father.

“Maybe you should both go for a run,” Rufus said dryly, but he smiled at his son in a way that made Averil aware—if she wasn’t already—of how fond he was of the boy. This was no harsh and distant father, as her own had been. Rufus was a good man. She was beginning to wonder just how he had ever been given the sobriquet of “wicked earl.”

“Will you come with me, Violet?” Eustace and Violet had become firm friends on the journey.

Violet seemed more than happy to agree, and they set off together. Averil could hear them laughing as they slipped outside the grand door and into the fresh air. Soon she was wishing she had gone with them, because the servants who brought in the food seemed remarkably uncertain of the duties required of them. Several times two servants reached for the same plate or cup at the same time, and nearly upset it. One of them dropped some sandwiches on the floor and would have retrieved them and served them as if nothing had happened, if James hadn’t grimaced and waved them away.

Someone had been very lax in the training of the castle staff, but Averil didn’t feel it was her place to say so and, glancing at Beth, saw that she, too, had noticed and was frowning, not knowing what to make of it.

“We will go and look at the empty house tomorrow morning,” Rufus was saying, and bit into a slice of what appeared to be seed cake. His face seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then he forced himself to relax and swallow. His dark eyes shifted to James, seated beside Beth on the sofa, and narrowed ominously.

“Have you found us a new cook, Uncle James?” he enquired silkily.

James looked up but wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Eh, yes. I’m afraid she isn’t French, nephew, but she is willing to try her hand at anything.”

“Perhaps it would be best if she doesn’t try her hand at the seed cake again.”

Just then there was a clatter of feet, and paws, and Hercules came bounding back into the room. Averil caught him as he went past, saving the tea things from a terrible accident.

“Douglas is here!” Eustace cried, and he and Violet came into the room, both flushed, with a huge man of about forty years, with red hair and a craggy face following them. He was using a cane and had a decided limp.

Rufus rose to take the man’s hand, introducing him as Douglas McInnes, his land agent. “Douglas looks after the estate for me.”

“How do you do, Mr. McInnes?” Averil smiled.

“I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Douglas said. “I happened upon your dog in the park and thought it was an escapee from a circus, but Eustace assures me it is tame.”

Averil laughed. “Almost. Although I’m not sure Lord Southbrook agrees.”

Douglas shot his employer an amused glance. “Lord Southbrook prefers horses. But he’s a fine fellow, aren’t you . . . Hercules, is it?”

Eustace came to stand by the animal, already looking like a proud owner. “Averil saved him, you know. He was skin and bone when she brought him home, and now look at him.”

“Indeed!” Douglas agreed. His gaze drifted toward Violet, and Averil could see the girl was trying not to notice. “Miss Pinnock here tells me you had a safe journey from London. I was telling her I rarely go to the city and I’m not sorry. I prefer the countryside.”

“Fancy not liking London,” Violet said, but she smiled at him kindly when she said it.

For a moment Douglas McInnes seemed to be lost in her pale blue eyes, and then he pulled himself together and began to ask when it would be suitable for them all to see the property. Averil and Beth exchanged a glance. What was it about Violet that appealed to men of Gareth’s and Douglas McInnes’s age?

“We thought tomorrow,” Rufus said. “Are you sure you can manage it with that leg?”

“I’ll manage,” Douglas said, with another glance in Violet’s direction, which she was too busy with Hercules to notice.

After his land agent had gone—but not before managing to wangle himself an invitation to dinner—Rufus instructed one of the servants to show the women to their rooms in the east tower, and they set off up the staircase. It was rather a trek, through a long gallery with gold-framed portraits of Southbrooks, stretching back generations, down more stairs, sometimes just one step, and past many closed doors. The castle was enormous, as Beth kept commenting in hushed tones. Violet seemed unable to say anything, simply gazing about her with wide eyes.

Finally they reached their rooms.

Averil’s room was dazzlingly bright after the dim hallway. There were two ornate arched windows overlooking the wild garden and the room itself was surprisingly feminine, with white lace curtains and a matching bedcover. Beth had a room down the corridor and Violet’s was up some curling stairs in the tower itself.

The girl’s eyes widened when she saw it. “I feel like a princess,” she whispered, turning to gaze out of the windows that surrounded her in the circular room.

They all retired to their rooms for a rest before dinner. Averil was too excited to lie down and sat on the little window seat overlooking the garden. A hare with the longest ears she’d ever seen ran through the long grass, making her smile. The garden was clearly not a priority for Lord Southbrook, but the interior of the castle seemed well cared for and there were plenty of staff—although they seemed oddly awkward in performing their duties, as if they weren’t used to guests. Perhaps it was just that Lord Southbrook did not entertain very often.

Well, Averil told herself, it was none of her business. Besides, they wouldn’t be staying long. She sighed. Perhaps she could visit again? And then she remembered that if they took up the earl’s offer of the house she would be visiting here quite a lot. They would be neighbors.