“I suspect your Uncle James isn’t sure what to say to young boys.”
“Why not? He was a boy, wasn’t he? Papa always says, ‘James is just like when we were boys.’ ” He dropped his voice on the last sentence in imitation of his father.
Laura smiled. “I’m not sure your Uncle James was exactly like other boys.”
“Robbie?” a piercing voice called. “Robbie, where are you?” A moment later, a stick-thin woman came into view. “There you are! Come here. I told you not to leave the nursery.”
“That’s Miss Barstow,” Robbie explained to Laura. “She gets upset. I have to go.”
He took off down the hall to meet the woman, presumably his governess. She took him by the arm and hustled him back the way she had come, grumbling, “Why do you always run away?”
Laura turned, smiling a little. It seemed Robert Edward Danforth de Vere was a bit of a handful. She hurried back down the hallway to the front stairs, hoping that Patricia wouldn’t pop out to hurl more accusations at her. Downstairs, she found that the dining room held only Claude and Cousin Maurice.
Claude glanced up and rose politely, followed by the other man. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She nodded at them. “I thought James might be here.”
“Here and gone. You know James.”
No, she really didn’t. But she could scarcely say that.
“I hope you slept well,” Cousin Maurice offered.
“Yes, I did, thank you.”
“I only wish I could.” Maurice sighed mournfully. “I rarely get a full night’s rest. It’s my back, you see.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just be grateful you’re young. The cold and damp are terribly hard on one as one grows older.”
“I’m sure they are.” He didn’t look to be older than his forties. And it was neither raining nor cold.
“I thought it was your stomach kept you awake,” Claude put in, his sardonic tone similar to his brother’s.
“Oh, it does. My back, as well.” Cousin Maurice sighed lugubriously and launched into a description of his ailments that was mercifully cut short by Adelaide entering the dining room.
“Lady de Vere.” Adelaide beamed. “I hoped you would be here. Usually I am the only woman at breakfast. Conversation is so dull.” She giggled and made a little moue toward her husband. “Sorry, darling.”
Claude didn’t seem to mind. He stood up, offering the first real smile Laura had seen on the man’s face. Taking Adelaide’s hand and raising it to his lips, he seated her with the care one would show an invalid. However coolly he presented himself to others, it was clear that with Adelaide he was all warmth. It made Laura more inclined to like him.
“Good morning,” Laura answered Adelaide. “And, please, call me Laura.”
“Lovely! After all, we are sisters now, are we not? I haven’t had the chance to welcome you to the family. I vow I had begun to think Sir James would never marry.”
There was a flat note to her last words that made Laura glance at her sharply. Despite Adelaide’s overt cheeriness, Laura suspected the woman had in fact been disappointed James had not remained a bachelor. But at least she was attempting to be nice, which was more than could be said for much of James’s family.
“It’s wonderful that Sir James found someone.” Adelaide recovered her pleasant tone as she turned toward her husband. “Isn’t it, dear?”
“Wonderful,” Claude repeated sourly.
Adelaide leaned forward, laying her hand upon her chest and tittering in a self-deprecating manner. “Though I must admit, I would never have had the nerve myself to marry Sir James. Such a formidable man!” She gave an expressive little shiver. “You must be terribly courageous.”
“Um . . .” How was she to respond to that?
Laura was saved from replying by Claude, who drawled, “Oh, I doubt it required courage, my dear, merely clear thinking. After all, James is a far better choice financially than Laura’s first fiancé.” He turned to Laura, his expression cool and disdainful.
“Claude!” Adelaide gasped.
Laura met the man’s gaze levelly, letting a heavy silence build, then said, “I thought that James had gravely underestimated his brother’s character, but I can see now that he spoke nothing but the truth.”
Claude smirked. “I don’t know what he promised you in return for marrying him, but if James thinks to supplant me with an heir, he’s left it a little late.”
Laura clenched her hands in her lap, aware of a strong desire to drive her fist into Claude’s smug face. Controlling herself with an effort, she rose and turned toward the others at the table, ignoring Claude. “Pray excuse me, Adelaide. Cousin Maurice. I find I have lost my appetite.”