Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
“Lady Inverhall,” Lord Middleby greeted, his gaze lingering on Elspeth’s flour-dusted gown as he rose from the settee. “I hope you do not mind the intrusion. I was passing by and thought to pay a call on you this fine summer day.”
Elspeth studied him, letting her gaze linger. Though they had met before, she had never truly looked at him.
He was handsome in a plain, almost puppyish way, neatly dressed and groomed, a perfectly adequate lord on paper. He was younger than most lords she knew, and tall, but still a head shorter than Hugo. As for his smile, it seemed sincere, but it did not quicken her pulse.
“Perhaps a wee bit, Lord Middleby,” Elspeth replied, forcing a polite smile as she attempted to shake off the flour, which fell on the ornate oriental rug like snowflakes. “Just a bit of preparation for the charity I am workin’ with. I was takin’ a short break, though, so yer timin’ is grand.”
“Ah, I see! How serendipitous! I wished to inquire after your well-being and offer my assistance with your charitable endeavors, which I have heard so much about,” Lord Middleby continued, his eyes flicking to Hugo, who stood beside Elspeth, his arms folded across his broad chest. “Please forgive me, but Lady Inverhall is so captivating, Your Grace. How are you this fine day?”
“Lady Inverhall is quite capable of managing her own affairs, Lord Middleby,” Hugo barked, his voice cold. “And she receives more than adequate assistance from my staff.”
“Naturally, Your Grace! I would never presume to offer anything but the utmost respect. And I dare say your staff is beyond reproach!”
“Beyond reproach?”
“Indeed! Though I must say, a lady’s delicate constitution can only endure so much.
At least, that is my understanding. Perhaps a quiet drive through London, or a stroll in Hyde Park, might prove most restorative.
One would scarcely wish to see such admirable efforts taxed unduly. What say you, Lady Inverhall?”
“That is a most kind offer, Me Lord,” Elspeth said with a shy smile, her gaze darting between the men. “Unfortunately, I am busy with preparations for the rest of today. And I—”
“Well, I daresay it might prove more agreeable than whatever it is you were attending to.” Lord Middleby wrinkled his nose at the faint scent of sour milk clinging to her apron. “Forgive my candor, but might I inquire what it is you are doing?”
“Lady Inverhall is currently engaged in important work for the orphanage—as I have explained, Middleby,” Hugo snapped at the Earl, who seemed to grow smaller by the moment.
“Work that requires her full attention. Work that you have thoughtlessly interrupted by not bothering to send word before barging in here.”
He stepped slightly in front of Elspeth, effectively blocking Lord Middleby’s view of her.
“Me Lord, it is kind of ye to come by, and I will surely invite ye to the party,” Elspeth said, sidling in front of Hugo sheepishly with a courteous smile. “Thank ye.”
“That would be most capital!” Lord Middleby exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up his face. “Do allow me the honor of assisting in any way, My Lady. I cannot pretend to imagine the strain of such preparations, though I should be most gratified to lend my aid where possible.”
“Lady Inverhall is by no means a wilting flower,” Hugo said crisply. “Take a seat, Lord Middleby. Lady Inverhall, surely we might sit and converse for a few moments before your duties call you back.”
“Aye, Yer Grace,” Elspeth agreed with a raised eyebrow, trying to figure out just what was going on in his mind.
One minute, he wanted Lord Middleby to leave; the next, he was playing some game.
“If ye would like, Lord Middleby, I can ring for some tea.”
“That would be absolutely lovely!” Lord Middleby said, crossing one leg awkwardly over the other as he folded his hands in his lap.
He began twiddling his thumbs, his eyes flitting between Elspeth and Hugo.
“Unfortunately, I cannae stay long. Ye see, I am teachin’ the lads from the orphanage how to make cakes,” Elspeth explained. “That is the reason behind me disheveled appearance.”
“How intriguing!” he exclaimed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“I have not encountered many ladies who take such pains with their chosen charities. Still, I dare say it is more party planning than philanthropy, from what one hears. Lady Paddlefoot’s ball has certainly captured the town’s attention.
Pray, what inspires your singular approach? ”
“I daenae think anyone can truly represent a charity without understandin’ its needs and the people behind it.
I have never been afraid of gettin’ me hands dirty, Me Lord.
As ye can see,” Elspeth said before Hugo could interject again.
“I took the same approach when I managed Inverhall, after the passin’ of me late husband. ”
“Ah, yes, Inverhall. From what I hear, it has quite an ancient heritage,” Lord Middleby commented. “Beautiful estate.”
“An assumption one can make about almost any Scottish estate. What else do you know of Inverhall? Which, by the way, is mine now, Lord Middleby,” Hugo rasped.
“Well, I am sure it is surrounded by fine green hills, Your Grace,” Lord Middleby said, just as Mrs. Whipple entered the room bearing a small tray. She set it down on a nearby table and served them each a warm cup.
“The finest,” Elspeth confirmed, before Hugo could sour the situation any further.
“Inverhall and the welfare of the Dowager Marchioness fall under my care. At least for the time being, before the property is sold for a handsome sum and a proper match for the lady is secured,” Hugo explained. “Tell me, what occupies your days, Lord Middleby? Are you much for fencing?”
“Fencing, Your Grace? I fear I am not well-suited to such vigorous pursuits. I have always found more refined, scholarly endeavors better suited to my constitution.”
“Clearly,” Hugo muttered, taking a sip of his tea.
“Yer Grace,” Elspeth hissed as he looked at her with indifference. “I daenae see the need for such exertion, when a brisk, healthy walk keeps one strong and well enough. Do ye care for walks, Lord Middleby?”
“Not terribly, only when going from one place to another. But I would surely accompany you on any walks, or any other activities you see fit.”
“What activities would those be, Middleby? I understand you have a lot of free time, as your estate manager still oversees much of your dealings. Isn’t that right?”
“Well, yes. While I have inherited the title, I am much indebted to my employees, who are most capable of handling the particulars—”
“As I thought,” Hugo said with a smug smirk. “Managed by a commoner. I have been running Arrowfell House and my other estates long enough to have learned that inexperience is best observed from a distance, lest it prove costly to all concerned.”
A loud bang resounded from the kitchen, and the three looked toward the door, where Mrs. Whipple materialized suddenly.
“I beg your pardon for the interruption, Lady Inverhall, but I fear the young gentlemen are quite literally clambering upon the ceiling. It appears they have overindulged in the sweets and are positively bouncing off the walls.”
“Oh. Oh dear!” Elspeth jumped to her feet, realizing the gravity of the situation. “Ye will need to excuse me, Lord Middleby. I will send an invitation to the party, and I do hope to see ye again.”
“Of course, and please excuse the intrusion,” Lord Middleby said as he rose and sketched a small bow. “Good day, Lady Inverhall. Your Grace.”
“Indeed,” Hugo uttered, leaning back in his seat and sipping his tea. “Good day, Middleby.”
Lord Middleby passed Mrs. Whipple and promptly left.
Elspeth placed a hand on Mrs. Whipple’s shoulder, a knowing look on her face.
“How bad is it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We have our work cut out for us, My Lady. But they are a good lot. We could do much worse, and I say, there is something about their energy that brings life to this place.”
“It is most wonderful to hear ye say that,” Elspeth said with a smile, still reeling from Lord Middleby’s visit. “I feel the same way. Let us be off, then!”
Hugo stared into the swirling dregs of his brandy as he sat at the desk in his study.
The door had closed on Middleby’s retreating back over an hour ago, and still, the faint, cloying scent of the man’s cologne lingered in the townhouse like a wet dog.
Hugo got up and opened the curtains, letting in the fresh summer breeze into his study.
“Bouncing off the walls?” he muttered to himself, setting the snifter down with a sharp clink. “What have I let this Highlander bring into my stately home? What has become of the Duke of Arrowfell?”
The absurdity of it was almost comical, and much as he did not wish to admit it, he liked the boys.
He knew Mrs. Whipple well enough to understand her theatrical bent. The boys were likely in a state of chaos, as children often were, but the image of them suspended from the rafters was a fabrication designed to give Elspeth a graceful exit. And it had worked.
Mrs. Whipple always had an innate sense of what was needed and how to make it happen.
A grunt of frustration escaped Hugo as he pushed the ledgers that were strewn across his desk aside.
He had no mind for work, and it would be a problem for another day. All he could think about was Middleby. He had handled the entire interaction abominably. His plan had been simple.
I only wanted to make it clear, with gentlemanly decorum, that Lord Middleby was an unwelcome pest.
Instead, he had sounded like a territorial, jealous fool. One minute, he was foisting Elspeth on every passing suitor; the next, he could not imagine…
Where is my focus?
The snide comments about Middleby’s lack of manly pursuits, the condescending remarks about his estate.
Rising from the desk, Hugo strode to the side table. There were even more papers and ledgers scattered across the mahogany surface.