features.
“Yes,” she agreed, stepping back. She took another bite of her bread and ham and seemed content to leave the visitors to make the running.
Hugo stifled a smile, his concern and annoyance abruptly vanished. Chloe didn’t care for her half brother or for Crispin, and she was making that most insolentlyclear, even while she smiled vaguely at them as she chewed.
“I trust you’ll pay us a visit at Gresham Hall,” Jasper said, his voice suddenly clipped. “Your nearest relatives, now that your dear mother …”
Chloe swallowed her mouthful. “You weren’t at the funeral.”
“No … I was in London.”
“Oh.” A skeptical lift of her eyebrows accompanied the bland monosyllable.
Jasper suddenly turned to Hugo. “This will is an absurdity,” he said. “Can we discuss it in private?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Hugo replied. “Scranton has made that abundantly clear … to both of us, as I understand it.”
A flush darkened Jasper’s cheek. “It’s outrageous, and you know it, Lattimer. For God’s sake, let’s go inside.”
Hugo shook his head and said deliberately, “No, I don’t think so, Jasper. You are not welcome in my house.”
The air crackled. Chloe was astounded. She looked at the two men and felt the hatred coursing between them. Crispin had flushed as deeply as his stepfather and moved forward so that the two stood shoulder to shoulder.
Hugo continued to regard them calmly. Chloe noticed for the first time how disheveled he was. His chin was stubbly, his eyes heavy, the lines of his face biting deep in the harsh light of the morning sun. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He wore no cravat, and his leather britches and boots were those of a farmer.
Jasper and Crispin, in contrast, were dressed impeccably in buckskin riding britches, gleaming top boots, snug-fitting coats of superfine, curly-brimmed beaver hats tucked beneath their arms.
“You are insulting,” Jasper said.
Hugo offered a mock bow and said nothing. He knew he had the upper hand. He hadn’t seen Jasper since that fateful night, and his loathing for the man was as strong now as it had ever been. Allowing it full rein was a heady emotional release.
“I demand that
my
sister come back with me. She needs the care of a woman, and who better than my wife, her own sister-in-law, to provide it. Look at her.” He flung his hand out in a dismissive gesture. “Is that any way for a young woman to appear in public?”
“What’s the matter with me?” Chloe asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
Hugo could hear the mockery in the question even if the others couldn’t. He couldn’t restrain his grin. “You’ve a milky mustache for a start,” he said.
“I haven’t!” she exclaimed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“And you have little crusts of sleep in the corners of your eyes,” he continued relentlessly. “And mud and straw on the bottom of your skirt. However, nothing that requires a sister-in-law to remedy. We can manage perfectly well ourselves.”
“You throw down the gauntlet, Lattimer,” Jasper declared softly.
A chill seemed to invade the courtyard. Hugo offered another mock bow of agreement. Chloe realized that the laughing banter about her own disarray had been merely a cover for whatever issue stood between her half-brother and her guardian. And it wasn’t just a matter of her mother’s will.
“Come, Crispin.” Jasper remounted, his face black. Crispin did the same. “This isn’t the end of it, Lattimer.”
“No, Jasper, I don’t imagine it is,” Hugo said.
“Somehow, I don’t believe I’ll meet my match in a drunken sot,” the other man said viciously.
Hugo whitened, but he said only, “I give you good day, Jasper … Crispin.”
The two men rode out of the courtyard without a backward glance.
Chloe looked up at Hugo. “What was that about?”.
He didn’t seem to have heard her. His mouth was a taut line, the
“Yes,” she agreed, stepping back. She took another bite of her bread and ham and seemed content to leave the visitors to make the running.
Hugo stifled a smile, his concern and annoyance abruptly vanished. Chloe didn’t care for her half brother or for Crispin, and she was making that most insolentlyclear, even while she smiled vaguely at them as she chewed.
“I trust you’ll pay us a visit at Gresham Hall,” Jasper said, his voice suddenly clipped. “Your nearest relatives, now that your dear mother …”
Chloe swallowed her mouthful. “You weren’t at the funeral.”
“No … I was in London.”
“Oh.” A skeptical lift of her eyebrows accompanied the bland monosyllable.
Jasper suddenly turned to Hugo. “This will is an absurdity,” he said. “Can we discuss it in private?”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Hugo replied. “Scranton has made that abundantly clear … to both of us, as I understand it.”
A flush darkened Jasper’s cheek. “It’s outrageous, and you know it, Lattimer. For God’s sake, let’s go inside.”
Hugo shook his head and said deliberately, “No, I don’t think so, Jasper. You are not welcome in my house.”
The air crackled. Chloe was astounded. She looked at the two men and felt the hatred coursing between them. Crispin had flushed as deeply as his stepfather and moved forward so that the two stood shoulder to shoulder.
Hugo continued to regard them calmly. Chloe noticed for the first time how disheveled he was. His chin was stubbly, his eyes heavy, the lines of his face biting deep in the harsh light of the morning sun. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He wore no cravat, and his leather britches and boots were those of a farmer.
Jasper and Crispin, in contrast, were dressed impeccably in buckskin riding britches, gleaming top boots, snug-fitting coats of superfine, curly-brimmed beaver hats tucked beneath their arms.
“You are insulting,” Jasper said.
Hugo offered a mock bow and said nothing. He knew he had the upper hand. He hadn’t seen Jasper since that fateful night, and his loathing for the man was as strong now as it had ever been. Allowing it full rein was a heady emotional release.
“I demand that
my
sister come back with me. She needs the care of a woman, and who better than my wife, her own sister-in-law, to provide it. Look at her.” He flung his hand out in a dismissive gesture. “Is that any way for a young woman to appear in public?”
“What’s the matter with me?” Chloe asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
Hugo could hear the mockery in the question even if the others couldn’t. He couldn’t restrain his grin. “You’ve a milky mustache for a start,” he said.
“I haven’t!” she exclaimed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“And you have little crusts of sleep in the corners of your eyes,” he continued relentlessly. “And mud and straw on the bottom of your skirt. However, nothing that requires a sister-in-law to remedy. We can manage perfectly well ourselves.”
“You throw down the gauntlet, Lattimer,” Jasper declared softly.
A chill seemed to invade the courtyard. Hugo offered another mock bow of agreement. Chloe realized that the laughing banter about her own disarray had been merely a cover for whatever issue stood between her half-brother and her guardian. And it wasn’t just a matter of her mother’s will.
“Come, Crispin.” Jasper remounted, his face black. Crispin did the same. “This isn’t the end of it, Lattimer.”
“No, Jasper, I don’t imagine it is,” Hugo said.
“Somehow, I don’t believe I’ll meet my match in a drunken sot,” the other man said viciously.
Hugo whitened, but he said only, “I give you good day, Jasper … Crispin.”
The two men rode out of the courtyard without a backward glance.
Chloe looked up at Hugo. “What was that about?”.
He didn’t seem to have heard her. His mouth was a taut line, the
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