Page 19 of My Wicked Earl
“I was not the earl at the time.”
She did not care a whit for his impudence. “You’ve spent these last few years rattling around Runshaw Park, alone except for a handful of servants. You should be here, with us, in London. Especially now that Sutton is thankfully home from Macao. And furthermore—”
“I am here now, Lady Cambourne.”
“Cease your interruptions. I am speaking.”
Clutching the head of her cane, she stomped it against the Persian carpet beneath her feet. Canes were a wonderful accessory as one grew older. Useful in a variety of ways.
The golden head dipped in acknowledgement of her rebuke.
“As I was saying, it cannot be considered healthy, Lord Kilmaire. Constantlybrooding, your family’s unfortunate circumstances notwithstanding, of course.”
The dark eyes narrowed, but he did not refute her claim.
“I am pleased to see that youdoseem to have perked up a bit since your arrival in town, for which I am much relieved, though it would be preferable if you would cease to dress as if you are still in mourning. I find the whole of it,” she waved her cane to his somber attire, “somewhatmacabre. Most young ladies of my acquaintance would prefer to marry a man who is not dressed as if he were attending a funeral.”
“I prefer dark colors. I suppose I’ve grown used to them over the last several years, but I will take your advice under consideration.”
“As you should. One would think you enjoy being referred to as the Cursed Earl.”
“It is no worse than some of the other odious nicknames thetonlikes to bestow upon those whom they gossip about.”
Donata frowned at the thinly veiled reference to her grandson’s undesirable nickname. “No one refers to Sutton as such anymore.” At least, not within Donata’s hearing.
“As you will, Lady Cambourne.”
“Humph.” The cane pounded on the floor again. “You should wear blue.” She waved the cane towards the edge of his left eye where the scar took root. “That healed quite well. Better than I anticipated.” She leaned forward. “I think it makes you look quite dashing. Don’t you, Miranda?”
Miranda turned back from her perusal of the rain-soaked garden but stayed silent.
“And you should smile more often, Lord Kilmaire. In fact, I insist upon it. There is no point in looking dour. You wouldn’t wish to scare away a potential bride.”
“I find that I smile often in your presence, Lady Cambourne. If I may say so.” The lilt this time was much more pronounced.
Donata’s heart fluttered. Even a woman as ancient as herself was not immune to the teasing of a handsome gentlemen.
“You may say.” Her fingers curled in the air, then settled over the head of her cane once more. The maids at Gray Covington ogled her grandson, Sutton, but it was Colin who they would allow to steal a kiss.
“Harry,” she said gently to the young footman hovering over her, “would you have tea brought? Make sure there are some of those delicious raisin cakes my granddaughter adores. And send someone to clean up.” She waved to the contents of Miranda’s spilled tray. “There’s been a bit of an accident.”
“Yes, my lady.” Harry bowed and went to do her bidding.
Donata found Harry to be such a good lad. So devoted.
Miranda looked at Harry’s departing back. “If you’ll both excuse me, I am rather tea soaked and—”
“Nonsense, Miranda. There’s only a bit of tea on you. Perhaps a raisin caught in your hair. Lord Kilmaire is in dire need of your assistance.” Donata looked towards Colin.
His nostrils flared slightly, but he nodded tersely in agreement. “Of course.”
Donata smiled. “Just so. So much has changed since your last visit to London, sadly before all the,” she struggled to find the right word to convey the respect for all that Colin had endured, “troublesvisited upon your family. I’m sure you find the city much changed. It’s astounding to me that eight years has flown by so quickly.”
“Six, Lady Cambourne. Six years.” His gaze once more settled on Miranda with startling intensity.
Miranda appeared oblivious to his attention.
In Donata’s experience, gentlemen did not typically remember with such clarity the exact passing of time, especially as it related to something mundane. Like the debut of your friend’s younger sister. Unless, of course, there was something more.
