Page 21 of Suddenly a (The St. Clairs 5)

“Come inside,” her aunt commanded. “It’s far too cold to carry on any decent kind of conversation. Though I’m not sure where we’ll be able to sit.”

“They are working on the drawing room, Aunt. Perhaps I can have the men clear a place so we may sit and chat.”

She took them to the drawing room and as she expected, a good deal of her creations already rested in boxes stacked neatly by the door.

“See, we can sit over here.”

“There’s no fire,” her aunt admonished.

“We don’t have one often,” Mia admitted. “We are down to Papa’s valet, who would never deign to chop wood, and a groom who did so infrequently. He’s already left this morning with our two horses in hand. I sold them to a neighbor and the groom will also take a position there.”

Her uncle frowned. “That wasn’t within your authority, Mia. From what I remember of Horatio Sloan, he will be furious with you.”

“The horses were sold a few weeks ago when Papa was still alive,” she explained. “The money went to pay for bills we owed in the village. My cousin can’t fault something that occurred while Papa was still alive.”

He nodded grimly. “From a legal standpoint, you are correct. You know Sloane, though. He can be a petty, supercilious creature. Do you know when he will arrive?”

“No. I gave Mr. St. Clair letters for you and Cousin Horatio. I assume he delivered both yesterday. It’s anyone’s guess as to when the new Lord Morrison might show up to claim the estate.”

“Speaking of St. Clair,” Uncle Trentham said. “Are these his men?”

“Yes, they are. Mr. St. Clair is having a contract drawn up to purchase my steam engine and have it patented. He said he might be interested in other devices I’ve developed.” Mia hesitated. “I shared my concern that Lord Morrison might not be willing to part with all I’ve developed. Mr. St. Clair’s solution was to pack up everything I’ve worked on and have it taken to his family’s London warehouse. I can go through each prototype with him and see if it’s something he might be interested in purchasing. Some are in very early developmental stages so I may have a bit of work to do before—”

“No, Mia. This work of yours needs to cease. I understand it was a part of your life with Morrison but that’s over now. If you’re to have any hopes of making a match, you must put this behind you.”

Fear gripped Mia. Telling her she couldn’t work on her inventions would be like withholding air from her. They were a part of her. Her very life.

“I must keep to my word, Aunt Fanny,” she said calmly, though her insides churned viciously. “I gave Mr. St. Clair my word to review everything with him. He has been kind enough to send all these men and wagons to transport everything, without us even having a signed contract between us. I must hold up my end of our bargain.”

Aunt Fanny sighed. “You always were a stubborn one. All right, we’ll let you discuss things with Mr. St. Clair. He told Trentham to provide you with a solicitor. The contract arrived this morning before we left.”

“It did. I reviewed it on our way to Surrey, Mia. It is clearly worded and very fair in its terms and compensation but I’ll also want my man to give it consideration before you sign it.”

Her aunt shuddered. “I am freezing. We should retreat to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Surely, your cook has a fire there.”

“I should have thought of that.”

Mia rose and they went to the kitchen, seeing Nelson lying in front of the fire. The cat stretched lazily and went back to sleep. Cook fussed over them, putting on a kettle for tea.

“We need to see Morrison buried and then you’ll return to London with us,” Aunt Fanny proclaimed.

“We buried Papa yesterday.”

“Oh!” Her aunt gave her an odd look. “Well, I suppose that’s for the best. Do you at least have a maid to pack your belongings? Nothing is holding us to this drafty old place.”

“I had her do so this morning. I thought you and Uncle Trentham would come as soon as you heard the news of Papa’s death.”

Aunt Fanny took Mia’s hand and squeezed it. “Everything is going to be fine, my sweet girl. You’ll see.”

“I hope so.”

Cook set teacups in front of them and Mia poured out. She apologized for having no sugar or cream. Her uncle looked discomfited. Her aunt rolled her eyes and, thankfully, held her tongue. They sipped the hot brew and its warmth went straight to her belly.

“Lady Mia! Lady Mia!” The maid came running in. “You must come quickly. I think Mr. Willis might come to blows.”

She leaped to her feet. “With whom?”

The maid gave her a pitying look. “Your cousin has arrived.”

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