Page 27 of Brave New Earl (The Way to a Lord's Heart 1)

“And I must say that the decision to come down to Furness Hall was wholly your own. Your…sudden initiative startled me.”

“And so you came after me.”

Lord Macklin gave her a half bow as they walked. “You are a most astute young lady. I did feel in some way responsible.”

“Aha.”

He laughed. “So what will you do now that you’ve extracted my confession?”

Jean wasn’t ready to be charmed. “Do you make a practice of interference? Even in the affairs of strangers?”

The older man shook his head as he opened the front door of the house for her. They stepped out onto the grass together. “I never have. Before. I beg your pardon if it seems that way to you, Miss Saunders. I was very concerned about my nephew. I felt I had to do something for him.”

“And your great-nephew,” said Jean.

“And Geoffrey, of course.”

She doubted this, though she believed he cared about Geoffrey now that he’d met him. Just as Lord Furness was recognizing his neglect. She’d accomplished that much. But there was another important point in what Lord Macklin had said. “Youwereconcerned about Lord Furness?”

“I was.”

“Notam?”

“Thanks to you.”

Although this idea gratified Jean, she had to object. Lord Macklin’s expression wasn’t quite patronizing. He was too kind for that. But she detected a hint of complacency over his quite wrongheaded notion. “I don’t much care for being thesomething you had to do,” she said. “I’m not, in fact, a chess piece for you to move around the board.”

“Of course not.”

“Nor am I a helpless female who requiresherding.”

“I can see that.”

“So no moreevolvingconversations. With me or about me.”

“I give you my word.” Lord Macklin shrugged. “In my own defense, I must tell you that I have four nieces, and I’m often called upon to make arrangements for them. To anticipate what might be needed to save time and trouble.”

“Their wishes being irrelevant to the process.”

“Of course not.” He looked chagrined. “They always seemed quite pleased with my plans.”

“Or resigned to their fate.”

“I really think not. I suppose I’d better ask,” he added ruefully.

“I’m not your niece,” Jean pointed out.

“Not at present.”

“What?”

“Ah, here is the famous pony.” With a few long steps, Lord Macklin left her behind. It was a moment before Jean followed.

Geoffrey bounced like a maddened hare on the cobbles of the yard, begging to mount up. Benjamin was glad to see that Fergus the pony took this enthusiasm equably. He didn’t shy or offer to nip at the wild little figure dancing around him, though he did follow the boy’s movements with a wary eye. There was no need for him—or Tom, who held the pony’s bridle—to intervene.

At last, Bradford appeared with the saddle Benjamin had used as a child. They’d had to hunt it up and clean it. “All right,” said Benjamin. “Geoffrey, watch how the straps work. A good rider knows everything about his mount.”

His son jerked to a stop and stared intently as the chief groom saddled Fergus, then stood aside. Benjamin reached for his son. “Now I will lift you—”

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