‘Yes, my lord,’ she replied.
He watched from the window to see it done and was surprised when Miss England went from the house to speak to his tiger.
A few minutes later, she entered with a tea tray. She poured the tea prettily and offered some lemon cakes, as well. He noticed tea leaves swimming in his cup.
He could not resist baiting her. ‘Tell me, Miss England, how long have you been in my brother’s…employ?’
‘Not long, sir,’ she replied, an edge to her voice.
‘He had not spoken to me of having a housekeeper.’
She did not lower her gaze at this question. She smiled instead. ‘Indeed? Do gentlemen discuss such matters?’
He narrowed his eyes, ‘Was it you whom my wife met with Devlin—Lord Devlin?’
Her cheeks flushed. ‘Yes, my lord. She kindly spoke to me.’
He ought to wring Devlin’s bloody neck. How dare he put Serena in such a position, to speak to one such as this Miss England? He glared at her.
But at the moment she looked more like a timid young girl, nervous and uncertain. It was difficult to maintain his anger.
‘May I be excused, my lord?’ Her cheekiness had fled, at least. He wished to ask more questions, but could think of none.
‘Deddy?’ A small voice sounded from the doorway, and Miss England turned pale.
Ned turned to come face to face with a tiny child, no more than a baby, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
The very image of his brother.
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