I didn’t beg you. I don’t care what you tell them, as long as it’s the truth.” But she rushed to tell her side first. “Did you enjoy the cigars after you went to so much trouble to find them? I assume it was your smoking rather than any further expeditions into our private rooms that caused you to ‘outsleep the coming morn.’”
Mr. Knighton apparently found his voice. “Griff doesn’t s—”
“Sleep late as a general rule,” Mr. Brennan finished for him. “Yes, that’s true. But you’re right, Lady Rosalind. After you were so kind as to give me those cigars when you discovered me wandering the house—” He paused to shoot a pointed glance at his employer. “I ended up retiring very late.”
Mr. Knighton opened his mouth again, then shut it. How very odd that Mr. Knighton would let Mr. Brennan intimidate him like that.
Mr. Brennan served himself some shirred eggs and sausages. “In any case, I hope my lateness didn’t inconvenience anyone.” He cast her a mocking smile. “Especially you, Lady Rosalind. I’m all too familiar with what you’re capable of when your dander is up.”
She had no qualm whatsoever about taking up the gauntlet he’d thrown down. “You gave me goodenough reason to have my dander up, don’t you think?”
He paused with his fork in midair. “Perhaps, but did you have to come after me with a sword?”
Mr. Knighton nearly choked on his juice. “A sword?”
“Oh, yes, our hostess is quite the swordswoman. Held me at the point of a blade and threatened to slit my gullet—”
“I did no such thing! Now who is being dramatic?” She attacked her eggs. “Besides, it was an honest mistake. I thought you were a thief. After all, I did find you rooting around in Papa’s desk—”
“Looking for cigars. You wouldn’t have assumed otherwise if you didn’t have such a wild imagination, my lady.”
“She does indeed!” Juliet interjected. “Rosalind wants to be an actress, you know.”
“I would never have guessed,” he said dryly. “Although that does explain her tendency to ‘rush in where angels fear to tread.’”
When he continued to eat as if he hadn’t just insulted her, Rosalind bristled. “Mr. Brennan, are you calling me a fool?”
“A fool?” He paused in the act of raising his steaming cup of tea to his lips. “No. Although even you must admit that your attack on me last night was foolhardy, especially in light of what happened afterward. If I’d truly been a thief instead of a—”
“Knave? Blackguard?”
“Rosalind, please don’t be rude,” Juliet pleaded with pink-tinged cheeks, but was ignored by everyone at the table.
Rosalind turned to Mr. Knighton. “Did you know your man of affairs had no sense of gentlemanly propriety whatsoever?”
“Do tell.” Mr. Knighton leaned back in his chair,his eyes twinkling. For some reason, her comment seemed to amuse him.
Not Mr. Brennan, however. “Propriety?” He tossed down his cup with such force that it fell over, and its contents sloshed onto the tablecloth. “You have the audacity to speak of propriety, madam? You can hardly blame me if I don’t know how to react when a woman dressed like a soiled dove comes at me with a sword and shield! I doubt any man would behave with ‘gentlemanly propriety’ under such circumstances!”
A soiled dove! Now he’d done it! She leaned forward, determined to give him a piece of her mind.
“That’s enough of your impudence, Griff,” Mr. Knighton cut in before she could.
Rosalind sat back, a little mollified, though she wondered why it had taken the man so long to bring his insolent employee under control. And why that employee was now regarding his employer with a mixture of shock and annoyance.
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you last night,” Mr. Knighton continued, a little nervously, “but I won’t tolerate rude behavior toward my fair cousins.”
“What? You will not toler—” Mr. Brennan broke off
Mr. Knighton apparently found his voice. “Griff doesn’t s—”
“Sleep late as a general rule,” Mr. Brennan finished for him. “Yes, that’s true. But you’re right, Lady Rosalind. After you were so kind as to give me those cigars when you discovered me wandering the house—” He paused to shoot a pointed glance at his employer. “I ended up retiring very late.”
Mr. Knighton opened his mouth again, then shut it. How very odd that Mr. Knighton would let Mr. Brennan intimidate him like that.
Mr. Brennan served himself some shirred eggs and sausages. “In any case, I hope my lateness didn’t inconvenience anyone.” He cast her a mocking smile. “Especially you, Lady Rosalind. I’m all too familiar with what you’re capable of when your dander is up.”
She had no qualm whatsoever about taking up the gauntlet he’d thrown down. “You gave me goodenough reason to have my dander up, don’t you think?”
He paused with his fork in midair. “Perhaps, but did you have to come after me with a sword?”
Mr. Knighton nearly choked on his juice. “A sword?”
“Oh, yes, our hostess is quite the swordswoman. Held me at the point of a blade and threatened to slit my gullet—”
“I did no such thing! Now who is being dramatic?” She attacked her eggs. “Besides, it was an honest mistake. I thought you were a thief. After all, I did find you rooting around in Papa’s desk—”
“Looking for cigars. You wouldn’t have assumed otherwise if you didn’t have such a wild imagination, my lady.”
“She does indeed!” Juliet interjected. “Rosalind wants to be an actress, you know.”
“I would never have guessed,” he said dryly. “Although that does explain her tendency to ‘rush in where angels fear to tread.’”
When he continued to eat as if he hadn’t just insulted her, Rosalind bristled. “Mr. Brennan, are you calling me a fool?”
“A fool?” He paused in the act of raising his steaming cup of tea to his lips. “No. Although even you must admit that your attack on me last night was foolhardy, especially in light of what happened afterward. If I’d truly been a thief instead of a—”
“Knave? Blackguard?”
“Rosalind, please don’t be rude,” Juliet pleaded with pink-tinged cheeks, but was ignored by everyone at the table.
Rosalind turned to Mr. Knighton. “Did you know your man of affairs had no sense of gentlemanly propriety whatsoever?”
“Do tell.” Mr. Knighton leaned back in his chair,his eyes twinkling. For some reason, her comment seemed to amuse him.
Not Mr. Brennan, however. “Propriety?” He tossed down his cup with such force that it fell over, and its contents sloshed onto the tablecloth. “You have the audacity to speak of propriety, madam? You can hardly blame me if I don’t know how to react when a woman dressed like a soiled dove comes at me with a sword and shield! I doubt any man would behave with ‘gentlemanly propriety’ under such circumstances!”
A soiled dove! Now he’d done it! She leaned forward, determined to give him a piece of her mind.
“That’s enough of your impudence, Griff,” Mr. Knighton cut in before she could.
Rosalind sat back, a little mollified, though she wondered why it had taken the man so long to bring his insolent employee under control. And why that employee was now regarding his employer with a mixture of shock and annoyance.
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you last night,” Mr. Knighton continued, a little nervously, “but I won’t tolerate rude behavior toward my fair cousins.”
“What? You will not toler—” Mr. Brennan broke off
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