Worth Lord of Reckoning by Grace Burrowes Page A

myself have a niece. I wasn’t aware this condemned a man to a housekeeper-less existence.”
    “The child must be his by-blow, and now it’s said he’s collected an illegitimate half-sister from boarding school.”
    He swept the dirt off the side of the table, into a dustbin from which dead rose branches protruded. “Many a duke has provided for his by-blows. I’d think less of the man if he sent this sister into service when he has the means to provide for her.”
    Grey had read law, and it had addled his brain. Either that, or he was wallowing in guilt for having permitted Jacaranda’s queer start five years ago.
    “Jacaranda’s employer is no duke, and her place is here, with her family.”
    “It is,” Grey said, setting the rubbish aside. “I write to her every month and remind her of that, but when I cannot afford to dower her, when she has no interest in marriage, and when her own sister is raising up babies on our very doorstep, Dorset might not be the happiest place for Jacaranda. She has promised to come home, you know.”
    She’d always promised to come home, then left her own dear step-mama to contend with more unruly young men than any one lady’s nerves could tolerate.
    “Her employer has removed to Surrey with his unsavory relations, sir. Do you think Jacaranda’s reputation will not suffer?” The innuendo in Herodia Bellamy’s letter had been unmistakable. “Jacaranda will be lucky to return with her virtue intact.”
    Grey untied his smock and hung it on a nail. Next he’d stride off on some errand known only to him.
    “If Jack’s employer attempts so much as an untoward smile in her direction, she’ll geld him. Jack deals well with men and their households.”
    He at least sounded wistful. Francine took heart from that.
    “She should be with family, and I’ve let you indulge her wayward notions long enough. You have until the end of summer to make her see reason, sir, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”
    He looked at his hands, which were large, elegant, and dirt-stained. “I’d advise you against anything foolish, Step-Mama. We muddle on well enough here without Jack, and she’s entitled to some happiness.”
    Francine was entitled to some happiness. She was entitled to spend her summers in Bath, where Captain Mortimer spent his, where Baron Hathaway spent his, and half of Francine’s correspondents spent theirs.
    She was entitled to a single week free of menus and feuding parlor maids and accountings—of which Jacaranda had been prodigiously fond. She was entitled to the occasional new gown, a riding mare of her own, a small equipage. So many things she was entitled to, but they all hinged on Jacaranda bringing order to the household so Francine could get her sons married off and her finances in order.
    Running the empire had to be a simpler undertaking than managing a lot of overgrown boys and their muddy boots.
    “I am never foolish,” Francine said, though she was growing desperate. Captain Mortimer spent altogether too much time with Penelope Shorewood, and Baron Hathaway had threatened to leave early for the grouse moors.
    “You are never content,” Grey said, wiping his hands with a dingy towel. “Your sons love you, you have Daisy near at hand, her babies to dote on, and still, you can’t leave Jacaranda in peace. Haven’t you done enough to jeopardize her prospects?”
    Stubborn—as stubborn as his father, his brothers, and his sisters.
    “A girl with her limitations never had much in the way of prospects, but what little remains to her will vanish if her employer brings his London cronies to the country with him. You know what house parties can be like for the help.”
    His lifted his jacket from the nail beside the one on which he’d hung his smock. “No, I do not know what house parties can be like for the help. My step-mother cannot bestir herself to organize a house party, though we have plenty of room, and such an event would be a simple way to