Page 18 of Her Duke Next Door
Mary was immediately on guard. They were not expecting any guests today. Eloise grinned and skipped ahead to wait for the butler to open the door before Mary could tug her back to her side protectively. But there was no Katie on the other side, and the man who smiled at them when the door swung open was not Dominique. Much to her own dismay, it was Hugh Yore, the new Earl of Yore, who was led into her home.
“Please do come in, Lord Yore,” the butler said, gesturing for Hugh to enter. Mary flinched at the title. She had not heard it in many years, since it belonged to her late husband.
In the grand foyer, she was not quite sure what to do. “Eloise, return to my side.” She sounded sharp but it was only from her fear of keeping her child safe. Eloise hurried right back to her.
She placed her hands on Eloise’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper. “It seems our visit might be a little overdue, dear. This is your father’s uncle, Lord Hugh Yore.”
She did not trust Hugh. Not in the slightest.
The man was older, his face lined and cheeks a ruddy red. His eyes were small and leering, with long, oil-slicked hair keeping it back from his face. His stubby neck was stuffed into the high collar of his shirt and coat. At his collar, he wore the Yore family crest on a brooch.
Mary’s stomach turned.
She could not be subjected to two awful Yore men in one lifetime, surely.
She took a step back, bringing Eloise with her. Her housekeeper walked forward, breaking the silence.
“Shall I call for some tea in the parlor, my Lady?”
Mary blinked into proper decorum and nodded. “Ah, yes. Yes, that would be grand indeed.”
It would not be grand, she thought.I want that man out of my house. I do not feel safe with him here.
Hugh kept that smarmy smile on his face that made Mary feel unbathed. The three of them made their way to the parlor. Hugh murmured to the housekeeper as she left, who nodded sharply. The room lapsed into silence as more maids brought in tea.
It was not until all of them had left that Mary broke the silence.
“My lord,” she said. “To what do I owe… the pleasure?”
He laughed loudly, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Well, you were not responding to any of my letters, so I thought I would pay you a visit in case something wasdrasticallywrong but I see by your pretty attire you may have been expecting me to visit.” He gave her a tight, polite smile. “Did your mother never teach you that it was not polite to ignore letters, my lady?”
She gave an even tighter smile. “She did but it appears both you and your nephew had a way with very demanding letters that do not feel the friendliest to readorreply to, my lord.”
He laughed. “Ah, yes, I did hear all about my nephew’s disgrace. The family does not agree with the spectacle he made of himself. It certainly does not reflect my intentions.” His eyes bore into her uncomfortably. “No, Mary, when I like a woman, I am direct about it.”
Mary shivered with disgust at the familiarity of her name on his lips. How similar his words were to Dominique’s but so very different because of how they were said and who they were said by. Her hand gripped Eloise’s and all she wanted to do was get her daughter out and away from this man.
“Why don’t you and Bernie go outside, Eloise?” she asked quietly. “His Lordship only wishes to talk about boring adult things.”
“Actually,” Hugh said, leaning back into the sofa he reclined on. “I have some gifts for your dearest daughter. I can see how my nephew shines through in her. That is a Yore nose indeed.”
Mary’s hand tightened on her daughter’s. “Oh, I disagree, my lord. She is a Hatson, through and through.”
Hugh only fixed her with a self-satisfied smile as if to sayif you think so, you are lying to yourself.
“You have gifts for me?” Eloise asked. “Why? It is not my birthday yet.”
“Gifts are very much a year-round occurrence, don't you agree? Especially when girls like you are very well-behaved!” Hugh’s fake voice speaking to Eloise skittered down Mary’s spine. Oh, how she detested him. But Eloise’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Only Mama gives me gifts when it is not my birthday.”
“And your papa? What did he give you?”
“My lord!” Mary cried. “Leave her father out of this conversation.”
Eloise’s face was pinched “My father did not give me a lot. I was too young for gifts that I remember.”
“You are no longer too young for them.”
