The Heart's Companion by Holly Newman Page B

expecting guests in a few days and will be devising entertainments for their enjoyment. May we count upon you to help make up our numbers?"
    "Guests?" He frowned a moment. "I did not think you had the notion to entertain here at Penwick."
    "Actually, we don’t," Lady Elsbeth candidly confided. "But my sister has autocratically decided otherwise," she continued with a laugh. "She writes that she and some friends will be in the neighborhood for a few days on their way to Brighton. "
    Out of the corner of his eye Royce saw a slight frown mar the cold perfection of Miss Grantley’s studied, formal expression. So the upcoming visit did not find favor with the Ice Witch, he thought. Interesting. He wondered why.
    "I should be delighted; however, I am expecting company of my own within the next few days," he said, his hands spreading open in apology.
    Jane turned swiftly to face him, her skirts swishing at the sudden movement. Red flags flew on her cheeks. She stood rigidly, her hands clasped tightly before her as she stared up at him. "Must you display your prurient interest in the country? Isn’t the city a more apropos setting for that kind of indulgence?" she inquired coldly.
    "Jane!" Lady Elsbeth gasped at both the indelicate suggestion and the tone in which it was proposed.
    The ice underlying Jane’s words would have given a lesser man pause. The Earl of Royce merely laughed.
    She flushed, gnashing her teeth together while the earl gave himself over to unrestrained mirth. Despite her anger and chagrin, Jane could not help but note how relaxed and approachable Royce looked in the throes of laughter. Hardly a devil’s disciple. Laughter even lent his hard, craggy features a certain handsomeness normally missing with his habitual sardonic expression. These observations did not please her. Royce was not a man to like, let alone call friend. And, she told herself, she pitied any woman who called him lover.
    "My dear Miss Grantley, you undoubtedly have listened to society’s tales and have allowed your imagination to play upon them. I’m flattered to have come so into your thoughts. But I’m afraid I should disappoint you. My guest is altogether male."
    His last word hung heavy in the air like some unspoken threat or impending thunderstorm. Lady Elsbeth shivered at his tone. She glanced at her niece, and noted that Jane blanched as she absorbed his meaning.
    Jane bit her lip lightly, silently calling down epithets upon her own head for her unruly tongue. She could not let him see the extent of her discomfiture. Her best defense was to take his words in stride without reading further into them. She tossed her head up and unflinchingly met the earl’s amusement. "My apologies, my lord. Your guest is, of course, welcome as well, should he be inclined, and you gentlemen stand in need of a respite from bachelor fare." The smile she bestowed on him was brilliant in its calculation, and her eyes glittered with gemlike clarity.
    He inclined his head, his lips twitching slightly. "We would be honored. And now ladies, if you will permit me, I should like to take Bertram and Edward riding."
    "Riding!" Jane’s formal cloak slipped away. She struggled, stammering, to capture its comforting folds. "W—why? I mean, they would like nothing better, to be sure. That is very kind of you—"
    "Ah, careful. Remember, I am never kind."
    "Then we are all the more at sea," interjected Lady Elsbeth, staring at him with a considering expression in her soft hazel eyes.
    "Curiosity, my dear Lady Elsbeth. I find myself curious as to how they fare so surrounded by women."
    "But why?" reiterated Jane. "Why this interest and curiosity for a couple of children. They are no relation to you."
    "That is plain speaking, is it not?" He sighed and leaned an elbow on the mantel piece. "I have asked myself the same question. The only answer I offer is boredom." He straightened, his expression grave. He stuck his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. "Contrary to