Page 22 of Suddenly a (The St. Clairs 5)

Mia’s heart dropped. She felt faint. No, she would not faint as she had yesterday. That had been embarrassing enough, especially in front of a stranger. She dug her nails into her palms and willed resolve to fill her.

“I’ll be back,” she told her aunt and uncle.

“I better go with you,” Uncle Trentham said.

“I have no taste for arguments,” Aunt Fanny said. “I will stay and have another cup of tea.”

Mia and her uncle made their way to the front of the house and out the door. As the maid said, Mr. Willis was arguing with Cousin Horatio. Both men were red in the face.

“I don’t care if you’re the bloody King of England,” the once-calm Mr. Willis hollered. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“And I am saying you are onmyproperty. Takingmythings. Now get off my land!” shouted her cousin.

Mia counted her blessings. The steam engine and all of her journals were safely gone, along with four of the wagons. She could forfeit whatever else was in the house. Her writings would help her recreate anything she wished.

She stepped up and faced Mr. Willis, her back to her cousin. “Mr. Willis, my cousin is right. I think it best if you and your men leave.” Then she winked.

He had the grace to keep a straight face. “If you say so, Lady Mia. I must tell you that my employer will not be happy. Good day.” He turned abruptly and shouted to his men. “We’re leaving for London.”

Mia held her breath, waiting to see if Cousin Horatio would make them unload what their wagons already held. When she heard nothing, she turned to look at him.

“Good morning, Cousin Horatio.”

A surly looked crossed his face. “You will address me as Lord Morrison.”

Mia curtseyed. “Of course, my lord.”

“She’s family, Morrison. Have you no sympathy?” her uncle demanded.

Morrison eyed him. “Lord Trentham. It has been a long time since we last met.”

“Not long enough, apparently,” her uncle said forcefully.

“What were those men carrying away?” Morrison demanded.

“Rubbish,” came the answer.

She looked and saw an incredibly beautiful woman with perfect features and large, dark eyes moving toward them. Her cape was of midnight blue and she carried a fur-trimmed muff of silver. She approached Mia, eyeing her up and down.

Once again, she curtseyed. “Lady Morrison, I assume.”

“Yes,” the viscountess said curtly. She looked to her husband. “I saw nothing of value, my love. Those men did us a favor, ridding the property of junk. I only wish we could call them back.” She gave a tight smile. “What’s left, we’ll burn.”

Mia wanted to strangle her. Instead, she said, “Won’t you come inside, Lady Morrison? It’s quite cold out here. My aunt is inside. And have you met my uncle, Lord Trentham?”

She willed her uncle to behave decently. Fortunately, his diplomatic manners kicked in and he politely greeted the viscountess. They all went inside the hall. Mia prayed Aunt Fanny wouldn’t cause a scene.

“Give me a tour of the place,” the viscountess told Mia.

“Now?”

Disdain filled her features. “Do you have anything better to do?’

“I’ll be happy to show you the house.”

“I’ll join you,” Morrison said.

Her uncle slipped away, probably to inform her aunt of the situation.

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