Page 10 of The Heir
“This is tea at your house of late?” Val arched an eyebrow. “No wonder you look a bit more the thing. I will move in directly, provided you promise to tune the piano.”
“You should, you know,” Westhaven said. He was putting together a plate, but his words had come out far less casually than he’d planned. “I know you don’t like staying at the ducal manse, and I have more than enough room here.”
“Wouldn’t want to impose,” Val said, reaching for his own share of the bounty, “but that’s generous of you.”
“Not generous. The truth is… I could use the company. I miss your music, in fact. There’s a neighbor, or somebody, who plays late at night, but it isn’t you, for all that I enjoy it. I thought I’d have a harder time keeping track of His Grace were I to set up my own place, but I’ve been surprised at how little effort he makes to elude my scrutiny.”
The door opened without the obligatory knock, and Mrs. Seaton marched into the room.
“I beg your pardon, your lordship, Lord Valentine.” She stopped, her basket of flowers bouncing against her skirts. “My lord, I thought you’d be at your appointment until this evening.”
Twiddling my mistress’s bubbies, Westhaven thought with a lift of an eyebrow.
“Mrs. Seaton.” Val rose, smiling as if he knew he was viewing the source of his brother’s happier household and healthier appearance. “My compliments on the offerings to be had here for tea, and the house itself looks marvelous.”
“Mrs. Seaton.” The earl rose more slowly, the display of manners hardly necessary for a housekeeper.
“My lords.” She curtsied but came up frowning at Westhaven. “Forgive me if I note you rise slowly. Are you well?”
The earl glanced at his brother repressively.
“My brother is not in good health?” Val asked, grinning. “Do tell.”
“I merely suffered a little bump on the head,” the earl said, “and Mrs. Seaton spared me the attentions of the physicians.”
Mrs. Seaton was still frowning, but the earl went on, forestalling her reply. “You may tend to your flowers, Mrs. Seaton, and I echo my brother’s compliments: Tea is most pleasant.”
“I’ll dice you for the marzipan,” Val said to the earl.
“No need,” Mrs. Seaton offered over her shoulder. “We keep a goodly supply in the kitchen, as his lordship favors it. There are cream cakes and chocolates, as well, but those are usually served with the evening meal.” She busied herself with substituting fresh flowers for the wilted specimens as the fragrance of roses, lavender, and honeysuckle wafted around the room.
Val eyed his brother. “Perhaps I will avail myself of your hospitality after all, Westhaven.”
“I would be honored,” Westhaven said absently, though he noted the speculation in his brother’s eyes. Mrs. Seaton was humming a little Handel; Westhaven was almost sure it was from theMessiah. She turned to go but flashed them a smile and a little curtsy on her way.
“Oh, Mrs. Seaton?” The earl stopped her two steps shy of the door.
“My lord?”
“You may tell the kitchen my brother and I will be dining in tonight, informally, and will continue to do so until further notice.”
“Lord Valentine will be visiting?”
“He will; the blue bedroom will do.” Westhaven turned back to the tray, still counting four pieces of marzipan.
“Might I suggest the green bedroom?” Mrs. Seaton rejoined. “It has higher ceilings and is at the back of the house, which would be both cooler and quieter. Then too, it has a balcony.”
The earl considered castigating her for contradicting him, but she’d been polite enough about it, and the back bedrooms were worlds more comfortable, though smaller.
“As you suggest.” The earl waved her on her way.
“That is a very different sort of housekeeper you have there,” Val said, when the library door had closed behind her.
“I know.” Westhaven made a sandwich and checked again to make sure his brother hadn’t pilfered the marzipan. “She’s a little cheeky, to be honest, but does her job with particular enthusiasm. She puts me in mind of Her Grace.”
“How so?” Val asked, making a sandwich, as well.
“Has an indomitable quality about her,” Westhaven said between bites. “She bashed me with a poker when she thought I was a caller molesting a housemaid. Put out my lights, thank you very much.”
