His Convenient Marchioness. Elizabeth Rolls

big carriage.’

      ‘Bugs?’ Louisa’s mouth fell open. ‘I assure you, my good woman, there are no bugs in my carriage!’

      A second knock on the front door deflected whatever Bessie might have replied. ‘I dessay that’ll be his lordship, mum.’ She smoothed her apron and hurried out.

      Louisa sank back on the sofa, encountered the very hard back and straightened. ‘For goodness sake, Emma! If you cannot conduct yourself with greater discretion, you cannot wonder—’

      ‘Now, that’s real kind, yer lordship. Reckon me lady’ll be right pleased!’

      Huntercombe’s deep voice responded cheerfully as Louisa shuddered. ‘Whatever possessed you to hire that creature?’

      ‘This way, yer lordship. Me lady’s mam is here, an’ a fine lady she is.’

      Emma bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laughter escaping. ‘High praise, indeed, Mother.’

      The door opened. ‘His lordship, mum,’ Bessie announced. ‘An’ I’ll bring another tea cup as quick as quick.’

      Hunt strolled into the room, hat and gloves tucked under his arm, Fergus at his heels. His brows lifted at the sight of Louisa, but he smiled at Emma. ‘Lady Emma. How do you do?’ He bowed over her hand.

      ‘Ah, Huntercombe. It is you.’ Louisa’s voice was delicately pained. ‘Rather an odd hour for you to call.’

      Hunt gave Louisa a puzzled glance and said to Emma, ‘I thought this was a perfectly acceptable time to call on Georgie.’ He glanced at the battered old clock on the chimneypiece. ‘I am a little early, I confess.’ He smiled and Emma’s pulse skipped. Oh, foolish! A marriage of convenience was what he wanted. Convenience and some liking and affection. Not this girlish fluttering at the mere sight of him.

      He bowed to Louisa. ‘How do you do, ma’am? Is Dersingham well?’

      ‘Perfectly, thank you.’ Louisa’s brow creased. ‘Who, may I ask, is Georgie? Is that the dog’s name?’

      Hunt simply stared and Emma couldn’t blame him. ‘Georgie is my daughter, Mother. Your granddaughter,’ she added, in case there was any confusion. And couldn’t resist saying, ‘You were invited to her christening over six years ago.’

      Louisa’s mouth pinched. ‘Oh, I dare say. But one has so many things to take up one’s time, I am sure keeping track of—’ She broke off as Bessie came in with another tea cup.

      ‘There y’are, your lordship. Pretty, ain’t it, with all them flowers round the edge.’

      He took it with a smile. ‘Thank you, Bessie. I’m sure the tea will taste even nicer in such a lovely cup. Would you take Fergus to the kitchen with you?’

      Bessie beamed. ‘Oh, yes, yer lordship. Be a pleasure. And proper, fresh tea it is. Made special for her ladyship.’ She bobbed in Louisa’s direction.

      ‘Thank you, Bessie,’ Emma said. ‘Could you please tell Master Harry and Miss Georgie that I am unable to take them for their walk just now?’

      ‘Yes, mum. Come along now, Fergus.’ Bessie curtsied and closed the door behind herself and the dog.

      Emma turned to Hunt. ‘I am so sorry, sir, but we will be unable to go for our walk.’

      There was a faint, a very faint, twinkle in his eye as he handed her the tea cup. ‘Of course you can’t. Not with such a delightful, and I think unexpected, visitor.’

      ‘Quite unexpected,’ Emma agreed. The less said about delightful the better.

      A twitch of Hunt’s lips suggested he had noted the omission. ‘But,’ he went on, as Emma poured his tea with just the tiny splash of milk he liked and handed it to him, ‘perhaps once I have done justice to the tea and this cup, and the children have made their bows to their grandmother, I could take them out while you enjoy a quiet visit with Lady Dersingham?’ He smiled at Louisa. ‘Your grandchildren must be such a pleasure to you, ma’am. No doubt they will be delighted to see you.’

      If Emma had harboured doubts about his acuity, the edge on those final remarks would have put them to bed with a shovel.

      Louisa frowned. ‘I do hope their governess has taught them better than to enact a great deal of vulgar nonsense over—’

      The door burst open and Georgie and Harry rushed in. Georgie flung herself at Emma. ‘Mama! Bessie says we mayn’t go for our walk! Please, Mama!’

      ‘Georgie.’ Hunt’s firm voice drew the child’s attention. ‘We will have our walk, but first you must make your curtsy to your grandmother.’

      ‘Grandmother?’ Harry stared at Louisa, who bridled, in obvious shock.

      ‘Well, really! I must say—’

      ‘Yes, Harry.’ Emma cut Louisa off without hesitation and gave her son a warning glance. ‘You will remember my mother, Lady Dersingham.’

      ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Harry took the hint and executed a bow. ‘Good afternoon, ma’am. How do you do?’

      Louisa sniffed. ‘Harry? There is no Harry in the family.’

      ‘He is named for his godfather,’ Emma said, through gritted teeth. ‘Harry Fitzwalter, a friend of Peter’s.’ Much notice any member of either family had paid to Harry’s birth. Or Georgie’s for that matter.

      Georgie slipped her hand into Emma’s, staring at Louisa. ‘So if she’s your mama, then that makes her our grandmama?’

      Louisa tittered. ‘Good heavens! Is the child backward?’

      Harry beat Emma’s choking rage into speech. ‘She is not!’ He glared at Louisa. ‘She’s only six and she didn’t even know we had a grandmother!’

      Louisa opened her mouth and Emma braced for battle.

      ‘Harry?’ Hunt’s voice was quite calm. ‘Would you take your sister upstairs and get ready?’

      His face crimson, Harry nodded. ‘Yes, sir. May Fergus come with us?’

      Hunt glanced at Emma. ‘If your mother says so.’

      Saying a silent prayer of thanks for a storm delayed, if not averted, Emma nodded. ‘Yes. That’s all right. Off you go.’

      Harry took Georgie’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s get Fergus.’ He tugged her along, then seemed to remember something. Executing a very stiff bow in Louisa’s direction, he said, ‘Good day to you, ma’am. It was very nice to meet you again.’

      * * *

      Having drunk a cup of tea she barely tasted, in an atmosphere brimming with arctic ice and unvoiced feminine outrage, Emma saw Hunt off with the children.

      ‘Mama, I didn’t mean to be rude,’ Harry whispered, none too softly. ‘But—’

      ‘Papa would expect you always to stand up for your sister, Harry,’ Emma said, checking his gloves.

      ‘And I didn’t know we had a grandmama!’ Georgie was sucking her thumb, her gloves clutched in the other hand.

      Emma hugged her. ‘Never mind, sweetheart.’ She removed the thumb from Georgie’s mouth and tugged on the worn little gloves. ‘Enjoy your walk.’ She rubbed Fergus’s silky ears and he licked her hand enthusiastically. ‘You have fun, too,’ she told him.

      Straightening, she looked at Hunt. ‘Thank you.’ There was so much more she wanted to say, but with the children listening it was impossible.

      His eyes were grave, but he took her hand—the one Fergus had not anointed—and kissed it. Her pulse did a great deal more than skip at the touch of his lips, and her breath caught.

      His fingers tightened for an instant, but he said only, ‘You’d better