Captain Durant's Countess(53)

Reyn went to her and kissed her hand, something he’d not done in this sort of context. There was no secret squeeze or sweep of his tongue. “Lady Kelby, please forgive me in all my dirt. I was just passing, and remembered you wished to discuss the renovations of your stable block as soon as possible. Have I come at a difficult time?”

“Oh, no. You are always welcome. That is to say, I know how valuable your time is. If you could join us for tea, I’m sure we can discuss it once my guest and her son leave.”

Reyn glanced at the other inhabitants of the room. A youth had risen at his entry, a lad of no more than fifteen or sixteen whose plump cheeks had not yet seen a razor. Though he’d not lost his puppy fat, the boy was tall, with a mop of auburn hair and dark eyes. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar.

His mother remained seated. She was a faded blonde with a great deal too many curls for a woman her age, and possessed of an unremarkable figure. Her blue eyes settled on him with shrewdness. He felt a little like a chop in a butcher shop window.

“And who is this, Maris?”

Reyn saw Maris flinch at the use of her Christian name. “May I present my neighbor, Captain Reynold Durant? Captain, this is my niece-in-law, Mrs. Kelby and her son, Peter. My husband’s nephew David’s wife and son. My, what a mouthful that is.”

Reyn felt the room shift. “How very happy I am to meet you,” he said blandly. He found a seat before he fell into it. “I was not aware Mr. Kelby was married.”

“Do you know my husband?” From her tone, it was clear that any friend of David’s was an enemy.

“A passing acquaintance only. I met him at Kelby Hall when I was doing some work for the late earl.”

“What kind of work was that? Stable renovations? I saw no evidence of new construction when I was there.”

“Inventorying his antiquities collection. I regret to say I did not complete the task before the earl passed away. An opportunity arose to alter my career path, and so you find me the owner of Merrywood Farm. I raise horses.”

Though a trifle pale, Maris was pouring tea and passing plates as if she entertained David Kelby’s wife every day of the week. Reyn took a bracing gulp from his cup.

“Peter is horse-mad, aren’t you, darling?” The boy blushed as he bit into his seed cake. “We haven’t been able to afford a suitable mount for him, but all that will change now that David will be earl. God willing. No offense to you, Maris, but you must realize we pray for the delivery of a healthy girl.”

“Mrs. Kelby—Catherine—I do hope your wishes will come true,” Maris said, her voice soft.

“Well, I’m due something after the way David has treated me. Treated us,” she said as her son’s blush darkened. “And if my hopes are dashed, I can always move here. It’s nothing to Kelby Hall, of course, but better than the rectory, isn’t it, Peter? My father is a man of the cloth,” she added for Reyn’s benefit. “No doubt he’d miss us, but it is past time we had property of our own.”

Poor Peter said nothing, looking much like a chubby trapped fox.

Reyn saw his chance to assist. “I was under the impression, Countess, that Hazel Grange is not part of the entail. Didn’t your husband purchase it specifically for you and any daughters that might result from your marriage?”

“Exactly so, and that is what I’ve been trying to explain to C-Catherine. Hazel Grange is mine outright. Mr. Woodley can explain it all.”

“That fussy old woman?” Catherine Kelby scoffed. “He tried to turn me out of the Hall yesterday, but I know my rights. It is David’s family home, and we are David’s family, whether he acknowledges us or not. I have the marriage lines. No one will dare say my boy is a bastard.”

“Mama!” Peter Kelby was in agony.

“Stop interrupting, Peter. You’ve done nothing but contradict me at every turn today. What will the countess think? You’ve been most impertinent, talking out of turn.”

Pot, meet kettle. Reyn found Catherine Kelby outrageously outspoken. For a clergyman’s daughter, she was not meek or mild.

“Would you like another biscuit, Peter?” Maris asked kindly.

The boy nodded, mute and miserable.

What a trial it must be to have two such awful parents, Reyn thought. Kelby Hall’s butler Amesbury would have a fit if Maris bore a daughter and David and Catherine moved in to ruin the tone of his household.

Reyn caught Maris’s eye. The smile she gave him was so dazzling—so loving—he was knocked back into his chair.

She might have wanted to thwart David, but depriving young Peter Kelby of his future was an entirely different proposition. An honorable woman like Maris could never do such a thing.

Maris set the china tea pot down. “Captain, do you remember the proposal you made to me the other day?”

“The proposal?” Reyn asked, his tongue suddenly thick.

“Yes. I’ve been giving it a great deal of thought, and realized I was thinking overmuch. I find I am very agreeable to your suggestion. In fact, the sooner we can plan the renovations, the better. Before the baby comes, certainly. I might not have time to make all the necessary arrangements once the child is born.”

Reyn knew his mouth was hanging open.

“Why would you care about making improvements to Hazel Grange if you may wind up back at Kelby Hall?” Catherine asked, helping herself to a sliver of candied ginger.

“I have no intention of returning to Kelby Hall.”

Catherine Kelby’s mouth joined Reyn’s. For once, she was wordless.

“Not return?” asked Peter once he had nearly choked on his vanilla-infused biscuit. “What about all those magnificent artifacts? Great-Uncle Henry’s Etruscan finds? The library? It’s all museum-worthy. I’ve never seen the like!”

“Do you know, Peter, it was my husband’s fondest wish to turn part of the Hall into a museum and open it to the public. He wanted me to be the curator, can you believe it? I spent most of my life working toward that ideal, but now I have other things to occupy me. It’s time the Kelby Collection found a new curator. Henry would be so pleased with your interest. Your father tells me you’re quite a scholar.”

Peter blinked. “He did? My father spoke of me?”

Maris nodded. “He came to war—inform—me that you both might come to pay me a visit, and I’m so glad you did. There’s enough at Kelby Hall to keep you busy and expand your classical education for a lifetime. By the time you become earl, you might actually have everything organized.”

Catherine put her cup down with a clatter. “I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Lady Kelby.”

“No, I don’t expect you do. There are some days I hardly understand myself. Please enjoy your tea, and if you wouldn’t mind terribly, see yourself out when you’re done. You must be anxious to get back to the Hall before dark, and there are things I must discuss with the captain. He is so busy, you know. Very much in demand, which is why he rackets about the countryside half dressed and with no neck cloth, but no matter. There is a . . . problem with one of my horses. Captain, you’ll accompany me to the stables?”

Reyn stood, a bit unsteadily. “Of course.”

Maris stood, too, speaking directly to Catherine. “I’m sure Mr. Woodley will get in touch with you about the particulars of this property. Give my best to David when you see him. Peter is a fine young man. He—you both—should be proud.”

The boy was scarlet. “Thank you, my lady.”

It was clear Catherine Kelby did not know what to make of Maris’s little speech. The last Reyn saw of her, she was frowning, reaching for a strawberry tart.

He hurried alongside Maris as they left the room. “What—?”

“Hush. Not yet.”

The footman Phillip opened the front door for them and Reyn followed her outside. The sky was blue and cloudless. Maris’s little black lace cap fluttered in the warm breeze as she led Reyn to the rear of the house and a gated garden. She turned the key in the iron lock, moving quickly on a mown grass path to sit down on a shaded bench

Reyn remained standing. “I see no horses.”

“I lied. Thank you for coming. Who sent for you? Betsy?”

“Aloysius.”

“Bless him. That Kelby woman is insufferable. But I see great promise in her son.”

“His mother wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise.”

“I had the chance to speak to him alone while Margaret gave his mother a tour of the house. A long tour, or as long as it could be in a house of its modest size. I begged off.” Maris winked, placing a hand on the black fabric that covered her stomach. “Too exhausting for a woman in my state. So I sat in a comfortable chair and coaxed him to talk while his grasping mother probably pilfered my jewel box, not that there’s much in there. The boy is very smart and seems to have inherited neither of his parents’ objectionable qualities.”