A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 4

A discreet knock sounded at the door, and he tossed the papers aside.

"Enter!" he called out.

His butler, Graves, entered and bowed smartly, carrying his master's overcoat. "Your horse is ready, Your Grace."

Philip glared at the man, a scathing retort hovering on his lips. He had requested a fresh mount a half-hour ago. "What the devil took you so long? I may have well walked to Brushwood and back in the time it took you to fetch me a horse."

"Forgive me, Your Grace. The stable lads were not-"

"Be quiet and hand me my coat," Philip cut in briskly. He snatched the garment and strode out the study. "I ought to terminate your services at once. You should count yourself fortunate I have no time to find myself another butler."

Graves trembled slightly as he hurried after the Duke. He silently prayed for the Duke's business in Millcote to be concluded so the man could return to London and leave him in peace.

***

Philip dismounted at the end of the carriageway of the Rosebury's country home, his eyes taking in his surroundings at a glance. A stable lad came up and took the reins of his mount, leading his magnificent Grey towards the stables.

Turning back in the direction he had come from, Phillip noticed the small woman he passed at the gates walking slowly toward him, favoring her right leg with each step. She was probably a maid-a lady's maid by the looks of her drab but still slightly fashionable black dress and matching hat, indicating she was well-paid or something of the sort.

"You there, is your mistress at home?" he called out to her as she neared him.

She looked startled and turned back, apparently wondering if she was the one he addressed.

Servants! Philip groused, They are the same everywhere, nothing but incompetent fools.

"I beg your pardon?" the girl replied, her voice coming out so smooth and cultured that it took Phillip by surprise. She stopped a few feet away from him and drew herself up to her full height, still barely coming to his shoulders; she was that small.

"Is Miss Rosebury home? I wish to have a word with her." "Please come in. I will inform her of your presence." The butler then noticed Lord Philip for the first time and bowed deeply. "Good even, Your Grace."

Miss Inglewood stiffened, and Philip heard her shocked gasp, but she did not turn around, merely lifted her skirts and hurried into the house as though wild dogs were after her.

"So that is Miss Inglewood," Philip mused out loud, completely ignoring the butler's greeting. It struck him that his earlier assessment of the girl as being too plain to catch a husband was wrong. It definitely had to be the bluestocking thing then. Still, he was somewhat pleased that she was there. It would save him a trip to Inglewood Farm when he could just deliver his message to the girl.

He stepped into the large hallway of the manor just as another thought occurred to him. Why was Miss Inglewood even here? Was it possible the minx was somehow in cahoots with her brother and had come here to ensure that Jane was firmly and surely caught in their web of deceit?

"Your Grace?" Snell asked, a confused look on his wrinkled face as he shut the door behind him, perplexed as to why the Duke had stopped in the middle of the hallway.

Philip waved the question away, taking long strides in the direction of the Viscount's study. He'd been here several times over the years that the layout of the house was familiar. His eyes fell on Miss Inglewood standing at the end of the hallway, her arms clenched tightly by her sides. She refused to look at him, simply falling into step beside Snell moving towards the drawing room reserved for guests.