Page 21 of Tempting Mr. Townsend
“You can't send the poor mite back to that nest of heathens,” Mrs. Penn protested, looking unconvincingly piteous.
“Poor mite?” Mr. Townsend said drily. “A few minutes ago, you called him an imp of Satan.”
“Can't I stay here?” Carey fixed burning dark eyes on his uncle. “Please?”
Mr. Townsend's lips flattened in frustration. “There's nobody to supervise you.”
“You could get me a tutor.”
“Not good enough. This latest mess only confirms that you need a firm hand.”
“You've got a firm hand.”
“I live in London.”
“You could live here.”
“Aye,” Mrs. Penny said. “The house needs a master. And you must be sick of traipsing around all those foreign places.”
“You think so?”
“You've got a boy to raise. His father wouldn't want the lad unhappy.”
Mr. Townsend went ashen under his tan. It had been a telling blow—and the canny old woman knew it.
Carey still hadn't given up. Fenella admired his persistence, a quality he shared with his guardian. “Will you at least think about it, sir”
Mr. Townsend nodded shortly. “I'll think—but that doesn't mean you've swayed me.”
Carey's brilliant smile reminded Fenella of his uncle's charm when he forgot his sternness. “Capital, Uncle. And can Brand stay, too?”
“Brandon's mother won't like that.”
Carey looked crestfallen, then cast Fenella a glance under his eyelashes. “Will you think about it, too?”
“Please, Mamma,” Brand said.
“You can't saddle poor Mr. Townsend with the care of two unruly ruffians,” she said helplessly. “Be reasonable, Brand.”
An uncharacteristically mulish look settled on her son's face. “I won't go back to school without Carey.”
“Brand…” she began in a warning tone.
“Apologize to your mother,” Mr. Townsend snapped. “And while you're at it, tell her you're sorry for dragging her all the way to Hampshire in the middle of a freezing night.”
Remorse filled Brand's face and he stepped forward. “I'm sorry, Mamma. I hope you'll forgive me.”
“I'll forgive you as long as you promise never to do it again.”
“I promise,” Brandon said solemnly.
Carey approached his uncle and awkwardly stuck out his hand. “Will you forgive me, too, sir? I regret causing so much trouble, but my intentions were good.”
When the two Townsends briefly shook hands, the tension drained from Carey's thin shoulders. For one resonant moment, the two stared at each other. Then the man tugged the boy into his arms.
“Come here, you appalling brat. Of course you're forgiven. Although when I found out you'd taken off from school, I wished you to Hades.”
Fenella's eyes misted up at this awkward, heartfelt rapprochement, as Carey gave a choked laugh and wriggled free. “I'll wager you did, Uncle.” He turned to give Fenella a creditable bow. “Lady Deerham, I apologize to you, too. The scrape was totally my fault.”
