he knew convincing himself of that was another matter entirely.
âAnd how is your father?â the countess asked, drawing the manâs attention away from Emily and back to her.
âNot well, Iâm afraid. His health has deteriorated a great deal in recent weeks, and I must admit Iâve been concerned. His physician has given strict instructions that he is not to leave his bed.â
âIâm so sorry to hear that. Please pass on my good wishes to him.â
âI shall. Thank you, my lady.â
Deirdre looked up at her husband. âHas the constable been here already?â
Tristan grimaced. âUnfortunately.â
âOh, dear. Was he uncooperative?â
âYou might say that. Heâs still convinced one of the children at Willow Park is responsible, and he made it very clear that any help we receive from him will be reluctant, at best.â
The countess turned troubled eyes on Peter. âIâm sorry, dear.â
He gave a nonchalant shrug, though he couldnât deny he felt touched by her concern. âItâs nothing less than I expected, my lady.â
âStill, thatâs no excuse at all for the manâs rudeness.â Deirdre glanced at Lord Moreland. âWe have asked Mr. Quick to look into the case of the Oxfordshire Thief.â
The viscountâs hazel eyes narrowed a fraction and he met Peterâs gaze with an unreadable expression. âReally? How interesting.â
Peter didnât bother to reply, merely returned the viscountâs stare with a steady one of his own.
No, he did not like this man at all.
âWell, let us turn to more pleasant matters, shall we?â Deirdre said brightly. âLord Moreland, perhaps you would like to join us for breakfast?â
Peter felt a surge of relief when the man shook his head. âI thank you for the offer, my lady, but I had a bite to eat before I left Brimley Hall this morning.â He cast another hooded glance at Emily. âI truly only stopped by to see if Lady Emily would accompany me for a short ride, but as she appears to have other plans today, I suppose I should be on my way.â
Emily, who had been a quiet, unobtrusive presence in the background all this time, took an abrupt step forward and slid her arm through Morelandâs. âPlease, Adam?â She glanced up at him from under lowered lashes, one corner of her lips turning up in an almost impish smile. âWonât you change your mind? You just got done saying we havenât had much of a chance to see each other lately. I would love to have you join us.â
The viscount contemplated her for a long moment, then seemed to come to some sort of decision, for he inclined his head in a nod and gave her a charming grin that encompassed the earl and countess, as well.
And completely disregarded Peter.
âSince you ask so nicely, Iâd be delighted to stay for breakfast,â he replied, his gaze never wavering from Emilyâs piquant face.
âHow marvelous!â Deirdre beamed. âIâll have a footman set an extra place at the table at once.â
As she led Tristan off in the direction of the dining room and Emily fell in behind, still clinging to Lord Morelandâs arm, Peter gritted his teeth and followed in their wake. Damnation! Emily was part of his past and he had accepted that long ago. It should no longer matter to him who she spent her time with, who she laughed and flirted with.
But it did. And as he saw her send the handsome viscount another brilliant smile, a small, undeniable flame of jealousy ignited in his heart.
Chapter 8
O ver two hours later, as Peter trotted his horse along the road toward the home of Lord and Lady Tuttleston, he couldnât help studying Emily out of the corner of his eye as she rode beside him.
She had been strangely silent since they had departed Knighthaven, quite different from the laughing, animated creature who had chatted with
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas