Read Online A Guardians Angel by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online
Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson
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to enjoy this fire and watch the storm through a window today. Mrs. Graves, I trust Miss Needham would like something to warm her. Brandy, Miss Needham?”
“My lord, I need to speak to you about—”
“About brandy? I had no idea you were a connoisseur of spirits and enjoyed talking of such things.”
“Not brandy.” Angela bit back her next words when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. He was jesting with her again in hopes of making her so ill-at-ease that she would bumble her way through this conversation. She must not allow him to have the upper hand. “I would prefer tea or hot chocolate.”
“I believe Mrs. Graves has tea at the ready.”
“Then tea would be fine.”
He turned to his housekeeper. “Please bring tea for Miss Needham and me.”
“Yes, my lord.” The thin woman glanced back over her shoulder as she went back out into the dusky hallway.
Angela sat. Lord Harrington was so different from his neighbor. The duke had not made a humorous comment in her hearing, and it seemed that Lord Harrington was seldom serious.
She wondered if he had heard that thought, for his face took on somber lines as he picked up the paper he had been reading. Folding it, he placed it under a book on the table. Was he determined that she would not read it or did he simply not want it to be misplaced? She was curious what it might contain, but reminded herself that the viscount’s concerns were not hers except when he helped Master Thomas ignore his guardian’s decrees.
He took his chair and set his feet on the stool again. Wiggling his toes, he smiled. “Now, Miss Needham, you obviously are eager to tell me something. I can imagine no other reason why you would journey through this inclement weather to call upon me.”
“Mr. Weare—the tutor at Oslington Court—”
“I have heard of the inimitable Mr. Weare.”
“From Master Thomas, no doubt.”
“No doubt.”
Realizing he did not intend to make her task any easier, Angela squared her shoulders. “My lord, Mr. Weare is highly distressed.”
“A most unfortunate set of circumstances.”
“Yes.” She would not let him change the course of the conversation with this feigned pity. “Most unfortunate for Master Thomas. It is not right for the boy to be false with his tutor by telling Mr. Weare that he is going to be taking a walk with me in the Court’s gardens when he obviously intended to slip away to spend time with you and your bizarre hobby.”
“Collecting butterflies is not what I would term bizarre. Carrying tales for a boy’s tutor is.”
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I am carrying no tales. I wish only to ascertain if Master Thomas is here. If he is not, even you must own ’tis a matter of grave concern for his guardian that Master Thomas is unaccounted for.”
“So Oslington is not aware of Thomas’s apparent bangers about being with you instead of at his lessons?”
“No.”
Lord Harrington rested his hand on the wooden arm of his chair, but his fingers tapped it. She sensed he was hiding something. Other than the fact that Master Thomas was or had been here? That was no longer a secret. If Lord Harrington was trying to conceal something else … She told herself not to be fanciful. She should care only about finding Master Thomas. She should not be thinking of how she was fascinated by the many moods conveyed by his expressive eyebrows.
“Of course, you are correct, Miss Needham. The boy must spend his time with his tutor in order to get a basic education. Do you wish me to speak with him?”
“He might listen to you as he will not to Mr. Weare or his guardian.”
“Or you?”
“He does not heed me, my lord. Nor should I expect him to. I am not his governess.”
“True. However, the lad has developed keen insight into the people around him as well as the world around him.” He laughed. “My dear Miss Needham, please dispense with that unflattering frown. I meant no insult to you. Only that Thomas
“My lord, I need to speak to you about—”
“About brandy? I had no idea you were a connoisseur of spirits and enjoyed talking of such things.”
“Not brandy.” Angela bit back her next words when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. He was jesting with her again in hopes of making her so ill-at-ease that she would bumble her way through this conversation. She must not allow him to have the upper hand. “I would prefer tea or hot chocolate.”
“I believe Mrs. Graves has tea at the ready.”
“Then tea would be fine.”
He turned to his housekeeper. “Please bring tea for Miss Needham and me.”
“Yes, my lord.” The thin woman glanced back over her shoulder as she went back out into the dusky hallway.
Angela sat. Lord Harrington was so different from his neighbor. The duke had not made a humorous comment in her hearing, and it seemed that Lord Harrington was seldom serious.
She wondered if he had heard that thought, for his face took on somber lines as he picked up the paper he had been reading. Folding it, he placed it under a book on the table. Was he determined that she would not read it or did he simply not want it to be misplaced? She was curious what it might contain, but reminded herself that the viscount’s concerns were not hers except when he helped Master Thomas ignore his guardian’s decrees.
He took his chair and set his feet on the stool again. Wiggling his toes, he smiled. “Now, Miss Needham, you obviously are eager to tell me something. I can imagine no other reason why you would journey through this inclement weather to call upon me.”
“Mr. Weare—the tutor at Oslington Court—”
“I have heard of the inimitable Mr. Weare.”
“From Master Thomas, no doubt.”
“No doubt.”
Realizing he did not intend to make her task any easier, Angela squared her shoulders. “My lord, Mr. Weare is highly distressed.”
“A most unfortunate set of circumstances.”
“Yes.” She would not let him change the course of the conversation with this feigned pity. “Most unfortunate for Master Thomas. It is not right for the boy to be false with his tutor by telling Mr. Weare that he is going to be taking a walk with me in the Court’s gardens when he obviously intended to slip away to spend time with you and your bizarre hobby.”
“Collecting butterflies is not what I would term bizarre. Carrying tales for a boy’s tutor is.”
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I am carrying no tales. I wish only to ascertain if Master Thomas is here. If he is not, even you must own ’tis a matter of grave concern for his guardian that Master Thomas is unaccounted for.”
“So Oslington is not aware of Thomas’s apparent bangers about being with you instead of at his lessons?”
“No.”
Lord Harrington rested his hand on the wooden arm of his chair, but his fingers tapped it. She sensed he was hiding something. Other than the fact that Master Thomas was or had been here? That was no longer a secret. If Lord Harrington was trying to conceal something else … She told herself not to be fanciful. She should care only about finding Master Thomas. She should not be thinking of how she was fascinated by the many moods conveyed by his expressive eyebrows.
“Of course, you are correct, Miss Needham. The boy must spend his time with his tutor in order to get a basic education. Do you wish me to speak with him?”
“He might listen to you as he will not to Mr. Weare or his guardian.”
“Or you?”
“He does not heed me, my lord. Nor should I expect him to. I am not his governess.”
“True. However, the lad has developed keen insight into the people around him as well as the world around him.” He laughed. “My dear Miss Needham, please dispense with that unflattering frown. I meant no insult to you. Only that Thomas
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