He was tall now, towering over her, despite her own height, and his shoulders were wide. His deep brown hair was burnished and well cut, although a little too long to be fashionable. But it was his face, at once known and yet different, that made Sydony’s heart beat faster. Unfortunately, its dark perfection was marred by the mocking tilt of his lips, which told her he was well aware of her study.
‘My mother said that you had moved. She misses you, of course, and was naturally concerned that your new home be as you’d hoped,’ he said, finally, in answer to her question.
‘Well, it isn’t,’ Sydony said, irritated by the glint in his eye. Barto probably knew all too well just how handsome he was, and she refused to flatter him with any further study.
‘The residence is deserted, with no staff at all, so we could hardly provide the hospitality to which you are accustomed, my lord Viscount,’ Sydony noted. She had intended to scorn his fine title, but the oddness of addressing Barto by his father’s name took the force from her words.
Barto’s dark brows lowered, and Sydony remembered his temper, although she saw no crack in his elegant façade. ‘I assure you that I am not made of spun sugar,’ he said, coolly. ‘Nor will I melt away without the benefit of luxuries.’
Sydony doubted that. Once upon a time, she had fed this man mud pies, but now he was used to the best of everything, and she could not even offer him biscuits. If she had seen some hint of her former companion, Sydony would have given little thought to the change in circumstances, but there was no warmth in this meeting. And if he treated her so coldly, what if he looked down his aristocratic nose at Kit, flush with excitement over his property?
‘I’m sorry, Ba—my lord,’ Sydony swiftly amended. ‘We are not at home to visitors, as yet. But do give your mother my greatest regards and tell her that we are well and arrived safely.’
Sydony tendered a terse smile, but Barto obviously would not be dismissed on the threshold like some tradesman. Again, though the exterior remained unchanged, Sydony saw the flash in those dark eyes, and she was tempted to shut the door, rather than face his displeasure. Yet she stood her ground, her own temper flaring at the untenable position he had put her in. A gentleman would take her rebuff with good grace.
But Barto had never been a gentleman.
Well mannered when he chose, he was too used to getting his own way to have the natural charm of someone like Kit. And right now the set of his mouth made her suspect he was going to argue with her, rather than give way. She was wondering how on earth to get rid of him when the decision was taken out of her hands.
Indeed, they had been so intent upon each other that neither one had noticed Kit’s approach. But now Sydony heard the sound of a team driven a little too fast. No doubt Kit was concerned to see her alone with a visitor, for he slowed as soon as he neared Barto’s coach, the crest clearly visible. Jumping down from the carriage, he bounded up the walkway with an grin of delight. Sydony tried to catch his eye, to warn him against effusive greetings, but it was too late.
‘Barto!’ Kit exclaimed, reaching out to thump the new viscount on the back in the friendly gesture of boon companions. ‘This is a welcome surprise!’
Good-natured Kit probably took no notice, but Sydony saw the stiffness in Barto’s stance, as well as his blank expression, and she bristled. If he had no intention of pursuing an old acquaintance, then why did he not take his leave? Surely his mother would demand no more.
‘I’d invite you to stay, but I’m afraid we’re a bit at sixes and sevens here,’ Kit said.
‘So your sister explained.’
‘But I stopped by the solicitor’s, and he is to follow shortly,’ Kit said, turning to Sydony. ‘I insisted he come out here as I didn’t want to leave you alone any longer than necessary.’
Barto shot her a strange look. ‘You were here alone?’
‘I told you the place was deserted,’ Sydony snapped.
A dark brow lifted, perhaps a signal of astonishment; in the world of Viscount Hawthorne, ‘deserted’ probably meant a staff of twenty.
Ignoring the exchange, just as he had their past squabbles, Kit continued, ‘And he has the household goods we sent on ahead, which he didn’t think should be stored here.’
‘Certainly not when the door is open to all and sundry,’ Sydony said.
‘And you here alone,’ Barto said, his lips curving downwards. He eyed Sydony in a manner that disconcerted her, but went unnoticed by her brother.
‘Ah, well, you know these country folks,’ Kit said, with a shrug. He turned to Barto. ‘Come in. I’m afraid we can’t offer you anything, but you must see the palatial estate since you are here.’
Not trusting herself to witness Barto’s disdain, Sydony hurried off to make herself more presentable. She refused to change her gown, but she shook out the skirt, washed off the smudges, and fixed her hair. It would have to do.
Exiting her room, Sydony found the two men before the locked door on the first floor. ‘See here, Syd,’ Kit said. ‘We were hoping this might lead up to the battlements,’ he added, although Barto looked as though he harboured no such desire.
Having been distracted by the viscount since his arrival, Sydony abruptly remembered her earlier preoccupation with the maze, and her excitement returned. ‘I found a set of keys,’ she said, pulling the ring from her pocket with a flourish.
Barto raised a dark brow yet again, which probably meant her enthusiasm was unladylike. But Sydony ignored him and turned to her brother. ‘In fact, I had begun to try them on the locked doors when a bat flew out of the cellar at me.’
Aware of her irrational fear, Kit eyed her closely. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, having long since stopped tormenting her with creatures, both real and fake.
‘Yes. Luckily, our guest arrived to rescue me,’ Sydony said, her tone laced with sarcasm. She declined to elaborate on the circumstances, which could only cause her renewed embarrassment. But, hopefully, Barto realised that she had not run into his arms in avid greeting or with hopes of pursuing their acquaintance.
While the two men watched, Sydony began trying the keys in the lock, one by one, but none fit. ‘How odd,’ she murmured, struck once more by the peculiarities of their new home.
Meanwhile, Kit took the ring from her and attempted the task himself, in the manner of males everywhere. Since brute strength was not required, Sydony thought his efforts wasted, but said nothing. After all, he was her brother and much beloved.
‘The place has been shut up for a long time,’ he noted, when his attempts failed, as well. ‘For all we know, some rooms might be blocked off for a reason.’
‘Such as an infestation of bats?’ Sydony suggested.
Kit grinned, but she didn’t bother to glance at Barto, whose circle probably outlawed smiles as beneath them.
‘The solicitor will have a full set,’ Kit said, handing the ring back to her.
‘Not if it’s the same one he used to lock up the house.’
As usual, Kit ignored her dry comment, but Barto gave her a studied look. Perhaps, if she truly offended his arrogant sensibilities, he would leave. Momentarily diverted, Sydony considered ways in which to do so, but she was hard pressed to come up with something worse than what she had already done—running into his arms to clutch at him like a long-lost lover.
Lover? Sydony froze. She had no idea why that word came to mind. She had run to him just as she would have her brother or her father or perhaps even the younger version of Barto—for comfort from a fright. Any other interpretation was ludicrous.