Page 12 of A Bride for the Baron

The tips of Lord Meriweather’s ears turned red, but Vera could not guess if he was embarrassed or pleased at Miss Kightly’s praise.

There was no question how Sir Nigel felt, because his forehead ruffled as his scowl deepened. “Meriweather, this has been a sorry situation.” He shook his head. “A very sorry situation. What do you intend to do about it?”

“Do?” repeated Lord Meriweather, clearly astounded by Sir Nigel’s question.

“Yes! You are the lord of Meriweather Hall, aren’t you? You are responsible for the parish church in Sanctuary Bay, aren’t you? You must have some sort of plan of what to do since it burned down.”

Vera almost said, Since it was burned down by the smugglers. She pressed her lips closed, knowing it was not her place to speak up during a conversation between her social betters. If she humiliated Lord Meriweather in front of his neighbor, he could turn his frustration on her and Gregory as Lord Hedgcoe had. Not that she believed the baron was as vindictive as Lord Hedgcoe had been, but she could not take that risk. Not when Gregory’s living depended on Lord Meriweather’s good will.

“Lord Meriweather intends to rebuild the church,” Miss Kightly said with a broad smile. “Isn’t that marvelous? And generous.” She almost cooed the last words as she put her hand possessively on Lord Meriweather’s arm.

Vera lowered her eyes, but not quickly enough to miss Lord Meriweather’s shock at Miss Kightly’s bold motion. Maybe that was how members of the ton acted with one another. Neither she nor the new baron had much experience in that direction. Was he as uncomfortable with Miss Kightly’s actions as he was with her great-uncle’s verbal assault? As uncomfortable as Vera was?

“It is,” Sir Nigel said in the same uncompromising tone, “the very least he could do for the parish when he was not here to help.”

“Uncle, be fair,” Miss Kightly implored. “We were attending his cousin’s wedding.” She raised her eyes back to Lord Meriweather’s taut face. “He hurried here as soon as he could.”

“The church should have been torn down when the roof caved in.” The baronet seemed to notice Vera for the first time. “Now neglect has led to this fire that has destroyed not only the parish church but the vicarage.”

Vera met his gaze steadily, but as with Miss Kightly, she could not read what Sir Nigel’s narrowed eyes intended to convey. When he looked away first to stare at his great-niece, she was curious about the unspoken conversation she was not privy to. Something was going on, something that had to do with Miss Kightly’s oddly brazen behavior and her great-uncle’s ridiculous accusations.

“Come along, Lillian,” Sir Nigel said, motioning for the footman to take her bags out to his carriage. “There is no need to linger here any longer.”

Miss Kightly gave Lord Meriweather a long hug that startled him and made Vera ill at ease for reasons she could not quite explain. Her stomach tightened painfully, and she could not pull her eyes from the embrace, even though she knew she should. Instead, she waited for Lord Meriweather to put his arms around the blonde. He did not before Miss Kightly released him. For some reason, seeing that allowed Vera’s stomach to unclench ever so slightly.

It compressed again when Miss Kightly turned to throw her arms around Vera. As she hugged Vera, Miss Kightly whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She did not know how to respond because she had no idea why Miss Kightly had said those two simple words. Were they to express again her dismay about the fire at the church, or were they an apology for something else?

“Come along,” Sir Nigel said again when Miss Kightly had accepted his help in putting on her coat. “It’s a cold, wet drive back home.” As he put his arm around his great-niece’s shoulders, he said, “Now that you are here, Meriweather, I trust you will decide what to do to make things right.”

The baron recoiled as if Sir Nigel had struck him, and, in a way, he had. The baronet had targeted Lord Meriweather’s most vulnerable spot.

Before she could halt herself, she said, “Sir Nigel, Lord Meriweather has already made some excellent decisions toward rebuilding the church. Both my brother and I are very pleased that he has offered his expertise to assist. I am sure you are glad to hear that, as well.”

“Yes, yes,” the baronet said before hurrying Miss Kightly out the door.

Vera tilted up her chin, pleased with her efforts to halt the baronet’s uncharacteristically cruel jabs at Lord Meriweather. As she turned away from the door, she realized that, except for her and the footman by the door, the entry hall was empty. Lord Meriweather must have left while her attention was on the others’ departure. His cousin had told her how it pained and mortified the baron that he could not make a decision.

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