Page 4 of The Notorious Dashing Viscount
“You must, Isolde. It’s the only way, I’m afraid. You must.”
Chapter Two
A tray slipped from a footman’s gloved hands. It was empty, thankfully, just a silver platter designed for carrying drinks, but it made an awful clatter, nonetheless.
Everybody at the table jumped, with one exception.
Lord Auric Camden, Earl of Wrenwood, turned cold eyes on the footman in question. The footman – a young man, probably a new hire – visibly trembled.
“Careful, lad,” the earl grated.
The footman gulped, nodding rapidly. He snatched up the tray and made a speedy exit.
Clayton let himself breathe again.
It had been many years since his father had tried to hit him, but that wouldn’t prevent him from turning his rage onto others.
Eliza spoke up, as she often did. “It was an accident, Auric.”
Her marriage to Auric had never made sense to Clayton. Eliza was a woman of middle years, staid and sensible, and seemed to get as close to managing Auric as anyone ever would. They weren’t in love, naturally. They weren’t happy but they managed well enough. She was no thin, delicate damsel like Clayton’s mother had been.
Best not to think on that.
Clayton snatched up his wine glass, taking a long pull. It was weak stuff, nothing like the good port he would get at his club. White’s was the best, and Clayton had long since convinced himself of the simple fact that he deserved the best.
“Can I have some wine, Clay?” whispered a small voice at Clayton’s elbow.
The children were sitting at the table with them tonight, a rare treat that seemed to have them both in fits of terror at doingsomething wrong.
Amelia sat opposite, looking as panicky as an almost-thirteen-year-old girl might in the presence of overbearing adults. Little Edward, however, was only nine, and was generally well shielded enough from his father’s temper to only have a moderate terror of the man.
It was Edward who requested wine. Clayton lifted a sandy eyebrow, looking down at his little half-brother. The wine swirled around the glass.
“You won’t like it.”
“I might,” Edward insisted. “I can’t know unless I try, can I?”
Clayton inclined his head, acknowledging this impeccable logic.
“Your Mamma might not like it.”
“She might not notice. You’re in the way, you see. You are so large.”
“Perhaps I am not large, but you are merely small.”
Edward reflected on this new information. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “Will you let me have some wine, now?”
Clayton considered. “Perhaps a small sip, then.”
Edward’s face brightened. Before anything could be done, however, Eliza slowly and leisurely dug her elbow into Clayton’s ribs.
“I think not,” she said sweetly, never once glancing his way.
Clayton grimaced. “I beg your pardon, Edward. It seems not.”
The boy looked crestfallen. “I see. Well, thank you anyway, Clay.”
“You aren’t old enough for wine,” Amelia piped up. Edward angrily asserted that this was not so, and the children began a spirited exchange across the table. Until Auric spoke again, of course.
