Mrs. Gardner’s child?”
“Perhaps she fears the consequences of handing the child over to you.” Lady Clythebrook paused before continuing. “I haven’t shared all of Josephine’s past with you, some of which I don’t have the right to divulge. She didn’t come here first, you see. She went to live with a local merchant named Foster, and his wife, but something…happened while she was there and she ran away. Perhaps she fears giving Mrs. Gardner’s child to you will be as disastrous as when she was handed over to strangers.”
“Except I mean the child no harm.”
“No one meant to harm Josephine either, but that wasn’t the end result.”
Ross felt an uncomfortable gnawing deep in his gut. “So Miss Foley has set herself up as protector and defender for all the children?” He paused. “That’s quite an undertaking for one person, especially someone so young.”
“Yes. There are times I have to admit I worry over her.”
“There’s no need to worry, my lady,” a voice tinged with an icy edge said from behind them. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”
Both Ross and Lady Clythebrook turned to see Josephine Foley standing in the doorway.
Ross didn’t know how much of their conversation she’d overheard but couldn’t help but smile at the cold, determined look on her face. It was almost as if she were giving him fair warning that they were on a more level playing field today and she wouldn’t allow him to use brute strength or physical intimacy to intimidate her as he had that night in the woods.
“Josephine, dear. Come in and sit down. Lord Rainforth has come to call.”
“So I see,” she said, walking across the room.
She wore a green striped day-dress that—even though it was not quite what Ross remembered as being in fashion—was still very attractive. She was very attractive.
“And what is the purpose of your visit, Lord Rainforth?”
“You don’t think I came just to make Lady Clythebrook’s acquaintance?”
“No.”
Her answer was short and clipped, and Lady Clythebrook cleared her throat as if trying to cover Miss Foley’s veiled rudeness.
“Josephine,” Lady Clythebrook interrupted. “Banks is bringing tea. Perhaps we could have refreshments before Lord Rainforth brings up any business he might wish to discuss?”
“I doubt Lord Rainforth intends to stay that long. Do you, my lord?”
“On the contrary, Miss Foley. I’d be delighted to stay for tea.”
The look she gave him was murderous. He fanned the flame of her fury even further when he offered Lady Clythebrook his arm and escorted her to one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. Without looking to see Miss Foley’s reaction, Ross lifted a nearby chair and carried it closer. He didn’t place it next to Lady Clythebrook’s chair, but close to the chair in which he intended to sit.
“Please, Miss Foley. Won’t you join us?”
He saw the fire in her eyes, but in perfect timing, the door opened and Banks carried in a tea tray and set it on the small table in front of Miss Foley. She had no choice but to sit down in the chair closest to him and pour tea.
“Please try a pastry,” Lady Clythebrook said after Miss Foley had handed each of them a cup and saucer. “Mrs. Downey makes the best pastries in all of England.”
“Thank you.” He reached over to take a frosted crust filled with fruit and tucked it onto his floral china saucer. “Miss Foley?” He lifted the plate and offered it to Miss Foley, more for an excuse to look at her than to be polite. He wouldn’t exactly call her expression a scowl, but it was close enough to make him wary. If he wanted to change her mind about him, he’d best begin right now.
“No,” she said, her voice unnaturally forced. “Thank you.”
“Lady Clythebrook?”
Lady Clythebrook gave Miss Foley a curious look, then took a small square of yellow cake with white frosting.
Miss Foley, he noticed, took one swallow of her tea as if that was
“Perhaps she fears the consequences of handing the child over to you.” Lady Clythebrook paused before continuing. “I haven’t shared all of Josephine’s past with you, some of which I don’t have the right to divulge. She didn’t come here first, you see. She went to live with a local merchant named Foster, and his wife, but something…happened while she was there and she ran away. Perhaps she fears giving Mrs. Gardner’s child to you will be as disastrous as when she was handed over to strangers.”
“Except I mean the child no harm.”
“No one meant to harm Josephine either, but that wasn’t the end result.”
Ross felt an uncomfortable gnawing deep in his gut. “So Miss Foley has set herself up as protector and defender for all the children?” He paused. “That’s quite an undertaking for one person, especially someone so young.”
“Yes. There are times I have to admit I worry over her.”
“There’s no need to worry, my lady,” a voice tinged with an icy edge said from behind them. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”
Both Ross and Lady Clythebrook turned to see Josephine Foley standing in the doorway.
Ross didn’t know how much of their conversation she’d overheard but couldn’t help but smile at the cold, determined look on her face. It was almost as if she were giving him fair warning that they were on a more level playing field today and she wouldn’t allow him to use brute strength or physical intimacy to intimidate her as he had that night in the woods.
“Josephine, dear. Come in and sit down. Lord Rainforth has come to call.”
“So I see,” she said, walking across the room.
She wore a green striped day-dress that—even though it was not quite what Ross remembered as being in fashion—was still very attractive. She was very attractive.
“And what is the purpose of your visit, Lord Rainforth?”
“You don’t think I came just to make Lady Clythebrook’s acquaintance?”
“No.”
Her answer was short and clipped, and Lady Clythebrook cleared her throat as if trying to cover Miss Foley’s veiled rudeness.
“Josephine,” Lady Clythebrook interrupted. “Banks is bringing tea. Perhaps we could have refreshments before Lord Rainforth brings up any business he might wish to discuss?”
“I doubt Lord Rainforth intends to stay that long. Do you, my lord?”
“On the contrary, Miss Foley. I’d be delighted to stay for tea.”
The look she gave him was murderous. He fanned the flame of her fury even further when he offered Lady Clythebrook his arm and escorted her to one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. Without looking to see Miss Foley’s reaction, Ross lifted a nearby chair and carried it closer. He didn’t place it next to Lady Clythebrook’s chair, but close to the chair in which he intended to sit.
“Please, Miss Foley. Won’t you join us?”
He saw the fire in her eyes, but in perfect timing, the door opened and Banks carried in a tea tray and set it on the small table in front of Miss Foley. She had no choice but to sit down in the chair closest to him and pour tea.
“Please try a pastry,” Lady Clythebrook said after Miss Foley had handed each of them a cup and saucer. “Mrs. Downey makes the best pastries in all of England.”
“Thank you.” He reached over to take a frosted crust filled with fruit and tucked it onto his floral china saucer. “Miss Foley?” He lifted the plate and offered it to Miss Foley, more for an excuse to look at her than to be polite. He wouldn’t exactly call her expression a scowl, but it was close enough to make him wary. If he wanted to change her mind about him, he’d best begin right now.
“No,” she said, her voice unnaturally forced. “Thank you.”
“Lady Clythebrook?”
Lady Clythebrook gave Miss Foley a curious look, then took a small square of yellow cake with white frosting.
Miss Foley, he noticed, took one swallow of her tea as if that was
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