Page 86 of The Moonstone Governess
“Not at all—it is our pleasure.” Thaddius winked at Daire again.
The man behind the young couple grew more impatient. “Do you mind moving along? Others are waiting in queue to register.”
Thaddius summoned one of his attendants to take the Davenports and their bags up to their room, and then turned to the priggish bag of wind. “My apologies for the delay, sir. We’ll have you comfortably settled in the blink of an eye. Just sign the register, please.”
As the man signed, Thaddius hastily opened the mail pouch and sorted through it. “Your Grace, these came for you.” He handed Daire three letters. “I think that’s everything. I’ll deliver anything else I might have missed. Oh, and here’s one for my cousin. May I put it in your custody, since I expect you will be seeing her shortly?”
“Yes, of course.” Daire took it, noting it was from the headmistress of the Rainard Academy. Brenna had been eagerly awaiting her response. “Thank you, Thaddius.”
The man cast Daire an insolent look.
Were he not in such pleasant humor, Daire would have punched the fellow. No one shot him a look of disdain and got away with it. Although Daire itched to give this man a comeuppance, he turned away and was about to shrug it off when the man began to snipe at Thaddius. “This delay is intolerable. I demand to speak to the manager.”
“You are looking at him,” Thaddius said, still smiling, but Daire caught the undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. “We are a busy establishment, sir. We strive to accommodate all of our guests. If you are displeased with our service, then may I recommend the Three Lions Tavern?”
“A tavern? For a man of my stature? Do not be ridiculous. Show me to my room.”
“At once Mr., er…Swan…”
“Swanson. That’s Professor Swanson to you. Professor Albert Swanson.”
What the blazes?
How did this oaf dare set foot in Moonstone Landing after the way he had treated Brenna?
“Brenna’s Albert?” Thaddius asked, his eyes wide in alarm as he glanced at Daire, who studied the man.
No wonder he had taken an instant dislike to him.
Priggish arse.
Daire shook his head slightly, motioning for Thaddius to keep quiet about his betrothal to Brenna. She and Felicity would be along soon. He knew Brenna would want to speak to Albert Swanson and gently break the news of their impending marriage to him.
Not that her Albert deserved to be handled politely. Daire intended to be present for that conversation, his purpose to scare off this windbag on the chance he thought to insult Brenna.
Thaddius gave a quick nod in understanding.
But he had no sooner registered the man than Brenna bounded into the inn. “Your Grace,” she said, addressing Daire formally, since they were in public, “I think you are going to love what I have chosen for—” She came to an abrupt halt. “Albert? What are you doing here?”
“I’ve decided to give you another chance. I’m here to take you back to Oxford, at great expense and inconvenience to myself, I might add.”
Jax, who had been standing next to Daire, muttered, “What an arse. This ought to be interesting.”
Brenna’s smile faded. “Thaddius, hold up the mail coach. They are to ship this man back to Oxford, or to blazes, for all I care. Albert, how dare you show your face here after what you did to me!”
“Me? Why, you ungrateful girl! I asked you to marry me.”
Daire blocked the man when he started toward Brenna, not at all liking the angry look on his face. “Keep your distance,” he said with a warning growl.
Brenna tipped her chin in the air. “Thank you, Your Grace. But this is my fight, and I would like to finish it. You needn’t involve yourself.”
He glanced at Jax, who was struggling to contain his laughter.
Daire did not think the situation was particularly humorous, other than this officious prig was about to get his arse set afire by Brenna. He wished to interfere, to protect her, but she would only take it as though he had no faith in her.
She curled her hands into fists and took in a lung full of air. “Albert, did you or did you not attempt to destroy my career?”
“Are you referring to that girls’ school?” the prig said with disdain. “Surely you are not serious.”
