Page 23 of Beguiling the Baron

“And what sort of age would you estimate them to be?”

Great heaven, he did know how to hold a conversation, after all. But why had he chosen today of all days? And why all the questions about the gentlemen? He wasn’t . . . he couldn’t possibly be jealous, could he?

Hesitantly she replied, “Rather younger than yourself, sir. I think they have only recently begun to realize their ambitions. Mr. Leigh and Mr. Londis were also most knowledgeable and pleasant.”

“Hmm.”

Tia shot another glance at Mama and was amused to see her eyebrows disappear up into her flounced cap. She was clearly equally astonished by the change in Ansford.

The baron regarded the contents of his teapot again before he picked up the strainer and poured out a pale yellow-green liquid. Tia watched the progress of the cup to his mouth and saw a flicker of distaste as he swallowed the contents down.

“What kind of tea are you drinking, if you don’t mind me asking?”

When Ansford’s eyes met hers, her stomach tightened.

“St. John’s Wort,” he replied softly. “Someone recommended it to me.” He raised one eyebrow ever so slightly, challenging her, and she had to resist the urge to fan herself rapidly with her napkin.

Odious man. She would never be comfortable in his presence, never. Very well, if he wished to make her feel awkward, she would do the same to him.

She tangled a curl of hair around her finger. “Sir, I was thinking it would be good for Polly to have some diversion. I understand there is to be a fair at Chippenham at the end of July and I would like to take her.”

Ansford’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. He lowered it slowly and placed it deliberately back on his plate. “A fair? Certainly not.”

“But it would be a good incentive to her to study. It’s impressive how hard a child will work if promised a treat at the end of it.”

“Doubtless you understand more of children than I do, having taught them in the poorhouse,” was the lackluster response, “but I must remind you we’re a family in mourning.”

“I know. But I thought perhaps—”

“You’re mistaken. It’s a pity, for I hoped we had come to an understanding after our, um, discussion the other day.”

Tia was aware of her mother sitting up straighter, fascinated by this exchange. She’d told Mama nothing of her altercation with Ansford, not wanting her to know how close she’d come to making an enemy of their benefactor.

She lowered her voice and averted her eyes. “We have, sir. But would you at least give the idea your consideration? The event is nearly a month away.”

“Good God, what’s digging needles into my leg?” Ansford jumped up in alarm as a small, dark object propelled itself from his lap to the ham on his plate. With impressive speed, he seized the silver cover from the sideboard and clamped it down on top of Polly’s kitten, which mewed its resentment.

“What,” he inquired in icy tones, “is this?”

Seeing his furious face but also aware of the sounds of feline eating coming from beneath the cover, hysteria threatened. “I fear it is Polly’s kitten,” she gasped.

An aristocratic eyebrow arched upward. “Indeed? Aldergate!”

At the footman’s almost immediate appearance, Tia’s amusement was doused by a wash of fear. What did the furious aristocrat plan to do with Polly’s pet?

Ansford handed both plate and cover to the bemused servant. “There is a live animal beneath here. Deal with it, if you please.”

Tia watched in horror as the hapless creature was whisked out of the breakfast room. She turned anxiously to Ansford, who was glowering at the unwelcome interruption to his breakfast.

She couldn’t bear it. “You won’t kill it? Please, my lord, don’t. It has given Polly such pleasure.”

The look he turned on her froze her to the marrow. With the briefest of nods, he turned his back on both her and Mama and stalked out of the room.

A lofty silence descended. Eventually, Mama exclaimed, “Well, I never!”

“I thought he was improving. But I was wrong—the baron’s as hardhearted and rude as ever.” Tia’s temper rose.

Mama shot her a worried look. “What do you think he’ll do?”

“I’d like to say he’ll eventually see the humor in the situation, but I fear Ansford would choke and suffocate if he attempted to laugh, he’s so unused to it. He’ll probably have the kitten drowned.”

“Oh no, you don’t think so? Polly will be devastated.”

Of course, she would. Tia would be, too. “I don’t believe Lord Ansford understands about tender feelings.” She heaved a heartfelt sigh. “His own died with his wife.”

“I hope you’re mistaken, but he seemed excessively angry with us. Do you think he’s a bit peculiar in the head?”

“That wouldn’t surprise me at all. Now, I’d best hurry up and see how many French verbs I can get Polly to conjugate before she learns of her kitten’s demise. When that news reaches her, we’ll have to abandon the curriculum for at least a week.”

Unless, of course, she was brave enough to tackle Lord Ansford. Again.

But in his present mood, how could she do so without risking the fate of all those she cared about?