abruptly as if realizing the full extent of his impertinence. With the precise motion of a man striving to govern his temper, he righted his cup. A long moment passed before he spoke again, eyes blazing. “Yes, sir, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Now apologize to Lady Rosalind.”
His gaze shot to Mr. Knighton, and a muscle jerked in his jaw. But he said through gritted teeth, “I beg your pardon, Lady Rosalind. I didn’t intend any insult.”
She might have believed him if not for his tone,which was as insincere as a crocodile’s tears. She glanced at Mr. Knighton, who seemed suddenly to be trying very hard not to laugh.
What on earth could he find amusing in the situation? His man of affairs was glaring at them both with murder in his eyes. Mr. Knighton should take care whom he allowed to conduct his business for him.
She strove to rein in her temper. “Your apology is accepted, Mr. Brennan. After last night I’m accustomed to your manner of speaking, and I’m sure you’ll admit that I…tend to frankness myself.”
When Mr. Brennan turned his hot blue gaze on her, he looked as if he exercised uncommon restraint to hold back a sarcastic reply. Then the beginnings of a smile stole over his lips, provoking her insides to tighten with an unfamiliar tension. She liked him better angry. When he was angry she didn’t feel this strange connection to him, this intoxicating feeling that he understood her better than anyone ever had.
“Well, that’s all right then,” Juliet put in quickly, the peacemaker as always. She dabbed at her lips with her damask napkin, then laid it across her plate with typical feminine delicacy. “Perhaps if you’re all finished with breakfast, we can go to Papa’s room. He’s expecting us.”
“Since I was late to breakfast and am not quite finished,” Mr. Brennan remarked in far too casual a tone, “why don’t the rest of you go on without me?” His gaze swung to his employer. “You won’t need me, will you?”
“No, of course not.”
“I’ll finish here and take a walk about the estate. If that meets with your approval.”
Despite Mr. Brennan’s perfectly subservient words, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was issuing an order—and he seemed very comfortable doing so. Their arrangement was peculiar indeed.Of course, if she had a man as…unpredictable as Mr. Brennan working for her, she might be tempted to acquiesce herself for fear he’d murder her in her sleep if she didn’t.
“That’s a fine idea,” Mr. Knighton responded. “We don’t want to overwhelm his lordship by tramping in all together. The ladies and I will go on without you.”
Not a chance , Rosalind thought. She wouldn’t allow that smuggler to do more foraging for Papa’s papers. “Actually, there’s no reason for me to go, either. Papa really does prefer smaller groups of visitors.” She flashed Mr. Brennan a brilliant smile. “I’ll join you, sir. You’ll need help finding your way about the estate.”
His lips tightened into a disapproving line. “Begging your pardon, Lady Rosalind, but I didn’t have a nursemaid when I was three, so I certainly don’t need one now. I’m perfectly capable of navigating an estate alone.”
“I’m sure you are—indeed, you demonstrated a remarkable proficiency for it last night, and in a strange house, too. But you’ll miss much of interest on our grounds without one of us along to point things out. No, it’s imperative that I accompany you.”
With a worried glance at her, Mr. Knighton shifted his bulky frame in the chair that was ill equipped to hold such a Goliath. “I was hoping to have you help me , cousin. Won’t your father like it better if all his daughters join us when he meets me for the first time?”
“Nonsense,” she said gaily. “It’ll be cozier without me. He won’t even notice I’m gone. And Mr. Brennan should certainly have company.”
Mr. Brennan drummed his fingers on the table,
“Now apologize to Lady Rosalind.”
His gaze shot to Mr. Knighton, and a muscle jerked in his jaw. But he said through gritted teeth, “I beg your pardon, Lady Rosalind. I didn’t intend any insult.”
She might have believed him if not for his tone,which was as insincere as a crocodile’s tears. She glanced at Mr. Knighton, who seemed suddenly to be trying very hard not to laugh.
What on earth could he find amusing in the situation? His man of affairs was glaring at them both with murder in his eyes. Mr. Knighton should take care whom he allowed to conduct his business for him.
She strove to rein in her temper. “Your apology is accepted, Mr. Brennan. After last night I’m accustomed to your manner of speaking, and I’m sure you’ll admit that I…tend to frankness myself.”
When Mr. Brennan turned his hot blue gaze on her, he looked as if he exercised uncommon restraint to hold back a sarcastic reply. Then the beginnings of a smile stole over his lips, provoking her insides to tighten with an unfamiliar tension. She liked him better angry. When he was angry she didn’t feel this strange connection to him, this intoxicating feeling that he understood her better than anyone ever had.
“Well, that’s all right then,” Juliet put in quickly, the peacemaker as always. She dabbed at her lips with her damask napkin, then laid it across her plate with typical feminine delicacy. “Perhaps if you’re all finished with breakfast, we can go to Papa’s room. He’s expecting us.”
“Since I was late to breakfast and am not quite finished,” Mr. Brennan remarked in far too casual a tone, “why don’t the rest of you go on without me?” His gaze swung to his employer. “You won’t need me, will you?”
“No, of course not.”
“I’ll finish here and take a walk about the estate. If that meets with your approval.”
Despite Mr. Brennan’s perfectly subservient words, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was issuing an order—and he seemed very comfortable doing so. Their arrangement was peculiar indeed.Of course, if she had a man as…unpredictable as Mr. Brennan working for her, she might be tempted to acquiesce herself for fear he’d murder her in her sleep if she didn’t.
“That’s a fine idea,” Mr. Knighton responded. “We don’t want to overwhelm his lordship by tramping in all together. The ladies and I will go on without you.”
Not a chance , Rosalind thought. She wouldn’t allow that smuggler to do more foraging for Papa’s papers. “Actually, there’s no reason for me to go, either. Papa really does prefer smaller groups of visitors.” She flashed Mr. Brennan a brilliant smile. “I’ll join you, sir. You’ll need help finding your way about the estate.”
His lips tightened into a disapproving line. “Begging your pardon, Lady Rosalind, but I didn’t have a nursemaid when I was three, so I certainly don’t need one now. I’m perfectly capable of navigating an estate alone.”
“I’m sure you are—indeed, you demonstrated a remarkable proficiency for it last night, and in a strange house, too. But you’ll miss much of interest on our grounds without one of us along to point things out. No, it’s imperative that I accompany you.”
With a worried glance at her, Mr. Knighton shifted his bulky frame in the chair that was ill equipped to hold such a Goliath. “I was hoping to have you help me , cousin. Won’t your father like it better if all his daughters join us when he meets me for the first time?”
“Nonsense,” she said gaily. “It’ll be cozier without me. He won’t even notice I’m gone. And Mr. Brennan should certainly have company.”
Mr. Brennan drummed his fingers on the table,
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