Page 27 of A Much Maligned Miss

“As a matter of fact, the kittens are mine,” Gervaise corrected him. “The lady was merely acting as custodian overnight.”

The servant’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so, milord? I wonder she did not say so when ’Liza rang a peal over her head this morning.”

“What was that?” Gervaise asked sharply, pushing back his chair. “Where is she? Take me to her at once.”

“Eliza?” the servant blurted, wide eyed with dismay.

“No, my wife,” Gervaise snapped. Seeing the appalled look on the servant’s face, he remembered he had hailed Caroline as his cousin the previous night. Fuck. “My countess has incurred my displeasure,” he said coldly. “And as such I am not currently acknowledging her. However, it quite another thing for her to be disrespected by anybody else. If she has been upset,” he said softly, “I will be most displeased.”

The servant paled. “R-right away, milord,” he stammered. “If you will just step this way.”

Gervaise followed the stumbling servant through the low timbered corridors and out of the back of the inn. There in the garden, he found Caroline swathed in her cloak and crouching over some long grass waving a stalk about. Two paws shot out trying to hook the stalk, at which point she whipped it away, evading them.

Caroline looked up in surprise at the sound of the closing door behind them. Gervaise halted on the path. “You did not come in to breakfast,” he said, sounding stilted to his own ears. “And you will be getting wet out here in the rain.”

Her gaze wandered over the accompanying servant. “Well, I thought it might be best to let the kittens go about their business before I brought them back indoors,” she said, rocking back on her heels. “You see, there was a little accident early this morning which the poor maid had to clean up.”

“I see.” Comprehension dawned. “And the twins have now…answered nature’s call?” he enquired politely.

“They have.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out an imperious hand. “Let us go now and take our breakfast.”

Caroline straightened up, plunking Romulus into his outstretched fingers. Of course, she did not know he had claimed her as his wife this morning. Still, her refusal to take his hand annoyed him out of all proportion. His fingers closed over the kitten and he held out his other hand for Remus. She handed him over with a look of faint surprise and he turned on his heel, leading the way back inside and expecting her to follow.

Behind him he could hear the male servant making an awkward apology and promising to tell the staff that the kittens were not her charges but the earl’s. The unfortunate man grew even more incomprehensive as Caroline tried to assure him they had done naught amiss and that she had taken no offense.

“Don’t do that anymore,” Gervaise said autocratically as they entered their private parlor, and the servant disappeared to fetch their food. Abruptly, he stooped to place the kittens on the floor.

She cast him a bewildered look as he pulled the seat out for her. “Do what?” she asked, dropping down into the chair.

“Accept shoddy treatment from others. I know you have no yardstick for such things, but in future if you know I would not tolerate something, then I expect you to refuse it also.”

She blinked at him. “I—” She took a deep breath. “My lord, perhaps you are unaware, but you are abominably high in the instep. If I started suddenly acting like an earl I would appear quite ridiculous.”

“No, merely a countess,” he corrected her in a bland voice.

“Perhaps you have forgotten, but at this establishment we introduced ourselves—”

“I did forget,” he interrupted her. “This morning I called you my wife, so I have told them we are currently at odds and that is why I forced you to sleep in inferior accommodation last night.”

She stared at him. “But what a silly mistake to make!” she said, then blushed. “Oh, excuse me, my lord.”

“No apology necessary. It is quite excusable for my lady wife to take me to task,” he answered swiftly but she was not paying attention.

“They must think you most peculiar!” she tutted, shaking out her napkin. “Making your wife sleep in an attic, indeed!”

“Not really,” he answered blandly. “My father once made his wife sit at table with his mistress and that was just one of the minor indignities he subjected her to.”

“Well, no wonder they were estranged!” she retorted, then bit her lip. “Forgive me, I am quite forgetting myself this morning.”

“I’ve already told you. I would rather have you impertinent than cowed.”

She looked up swiftly. “Cowed?” she echoed. “I most certainly am not—”

The door creaked open and the servant from earlier entered the room carrying a breakfast tray. In his wake trailed a miserable-looking maid, twisting her hands together. “Your breakfast, milord, milady,” he announced, placing it down on the tabletop. “And Eliza here has something to say to her ladyship.”

Eliza bobbed into a deep curtsey. “I most humbly apologize for the chastising of you this morning, milady,” she said carefully. “You see, at the time I thought you was nothing but a common companion.”