“Yes, my lord. You see, my lord, your late esteemed, very upright father did not deal well with the Brandons— rather, with Sir Oliver. It seems that your lordship’s grandfather was regarded by the Brandons as being of questionable reputation where females were concerned.”
Julien laughed. “A rake and licentious womanizer is what you mean, is it not, Mannering, until he dropped dead of overindulgence at sixty?”
Mannering fixed Julien with an offended stare, the like of which Julien hadn’t seen since he was a boy.
“One hesitates to speak ill of the dead, my lord, particularly when the person is one’s late master and an earl of March.”
“I stand corrected, Mannering.” He had to remember that he wasn’t in London, where such colorful curses about persons living or deceased were mundane and expected. “Please continue, Mannering. You say my father and mother had a falling-out with Sir Oliver over Grandfather’s questionable reputation?”
“If I may venture to say so, my lord, Sir Oliver Brandon is a staunch Methodist and overly rigid in his moral views. It seems that Lady Sabrina’s personal maid was found to be in the family way. The girl swore it was your grandfather, the earl, though it hardly seems likely, as your grandfather had quite a number of years already on his plate. Sir Oliver, so I was informed, beat the girl soundly, cast her out, and never again spoke to your grandfather. As you know, my lord, your own father was a very proud man, as is, of course, proper. Although his late lordship did not always agree with your grandfather’s conduct, he thought it disgraceful that a mere baronet should dare to condemn an earl of March, much less cut the acquaintance.”
“The light dawns brightly, Mannering.” Julien could picture without much difficulty how his father and mother would react to such an impertinence. It took him but a moment to shrug off his irritation at not being told all this, as he realized that Mannering would in all likelihood be able to tell him more about Katharine.
“As you know, Mannering, Miss Brandon is a somewhat unusual young lady. The two times I have met her, she was dressed in breeches, quite like a boy. As a matter of fact, she is forthright in her manners and speech, very unlike the daughter of a rigid Methodist.”
“Perhaps I have acted precipitately, my lord, but I pray you will not believe that to be true. During the past several years, your lordship being rarely here, Mrs. Cradshaw and I have become well acquainted with the young lady and have let her spend much time here. Mrs. Cradshaw and I have a liking for Miss Kate. As you can imagine, my lord, a young lady of her high spirits is sadly out of place in Sir Oliver’s household, particularly since the death of Lady Sabrina, her mother. She is certainly not an encroaching young lady, my lord. It is just that she is much alone. She, er, needs friends other than her brother, who now isn’t often here. Also, I would say she needs friends closer to her own age than Emma and I.”
“You are quite certain she’s not an ‘encroaching’ young lady, Mannering?”
“Quite true, my lord.”
To Mannering’s relief, his master gave a little chuckle and placed his hand on his shoulder. “You have acted quite right in this matter. I only regret that my presence here prevents Miss Katharine from fully enjoying herself on St. Clair land, though she was quite at home pulling one trout after another out of the lake.”
Julien dropped his hand and turned his view toward the large French windows that gave a brilliant view of the front lawn. He said under his breath, “As you say, she is in need of friends, perhaps friends closer to her age.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord?” Mannering asked, thinking his master’s low-spoken words meant for him.
“It’s nothing, Mannering. Don’t mind me. I become as meandering as a lake in my talk. Thank you for telling me about the Brandons.”
Left alone, Julien again gazed out into the peaceful summer scene. So Kate had made friends with his staff, had she? Quite a feat, he thought, considering Mannering’s strict adherence to propriety. A lady in breeches. A lady with the sunniest smile he’d ever seen in his life. A lady who could charm a snake right out of its skin. She was a lady, in short, who was fascinating. He realized he was smiling, not a lazy, mocking smile as was his habit, but a tender smile. It scared him witless, but just for a moment. Then he grinned at himself. “I must be becoming a half-wit,” he said aloud to the empty room. “Taken with an impertinent, outrageous—”
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