He extended his hand and said with exquisite good manners, “A great pleasure, sir, finally to meet you. I count it provident that I met Harry and Katharine so conveniently in the village, for I have long wanted to reestablish good relationships with the Brandons.”
Kate gazed with something akin to awe at her father, who had received the earl’s suave and fluent speech with an almost obsequious deference. His hard eyes softened, and he clasped the earl’s outstretched hand with the greatest alacrity.
“Indeed, my lord,” he breathed in a voice full of awe, “I am greatly honored that you have deigned to call.” He gave a slight cough that reminded Julien forcefully of Mannering, and added in an apologetic voice, “I presume your lordship is aware of the rift between our two families. An unfortunate affair, and if your lordship is willing, best now forgotten.”
Julien executed the most elegant of bows and replied smoothly, “I count myself grateful that you wish it to be so, sir.”
Kate cast a furtive glance at the earl. She had the strangest feeling that what had just transpired between her father and the earl had not— indeed, could not— have really happened. Why, her father’s very attitude was one of a condemned criminal being pardoned by royal command. It was unnerving. It made her feel inferior. She felt even more gauche and provincial. She became acutely aware of her old dress and the scuffed sandals that were all too visible beneath her hemline.
Sir Oliver turned to his daughter, who was standing literally openmouthed. He ground his teeth but managed to moderate his voice. “Katharine, my dear, won’t you see that Filber brings in the sherry? His lordship is undoubtedly needful of refreshment. Don’t dawdle now, my dear.”
Kate nodded and hurried to the door. In all likelihood, she thought, Filber had already heard his instructions through the closed door and was probably even now fetching the sherry and glasses.
“Yes, Miss Kate, right away,” Filber said, before Kate had time to speak.
She walked quickly to a mirror and regarded her messed hair with vexation. She was trying to smooth down errant curls when it occurred to her to wonder if the earl were here merely to mock her and her father. She felt a new wave of humiliation at her father’s toadying behavior and at the thought that the earl had seemed to find nothing amiss with such deferential treatment. She paced the floor in long, boyish strides waiting for Filber to bring the blasted sherry.
Sir Oliver rubbed his hands together and asked the earl to be seated. Kate was only partially right in her assessment of his attitude. Certainly he was impressed at his lordship’s courteous condescension to visit Brandon Hall, but more than that, he was aware that the earl was as yet unwed. It did not take him long to see the earl as a possible answer to the number of bills that lay piled on his desk.
Julien would not have been at all surprised had he known what Sir Oliver was thinking. In fact, he found himself watchful of Katharine’s father, hoping that he had made a favorable impression, that the natural desire of a parent to see his progeny well placed in the world and, he thought cynically, to line his own pockets would work to his advantage. He hadn’t been deceived by Sir Oliver’s deferential treatment of him. Having read the fear— and yes, he knew now that it was fear he’d seen— in his daughter’s eyes, he realized that to his family Sir Oliver was an altogether different man.
The thoughts of neither of the men were at all perceptible on their faces or in their painfully polite and mundane conversation. Bonaparte was always a safe topic, and Julien, in his most respectful manner, elicited Sir Oliver’s opinion.
“It has now been nearly three months that Napoleon has been on Elba,” he began. His choice of topics seemed at first an excellent one, for Sir Oliver immediately sat forward in his chair, his eyes blazing.
“Would for the safety of all men’s souls, that the Allies had not allowed the monster to live. For years I trembled for fear that an invasion of those degenerate French Catholics would throw our land back into the hands of the papists.”
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