Carola Dunn by The Actressand the Rake Read Free Book Online Page B

ma’am? Her ladyship has no authority in the matter. Addlescombe belongs to you and Mr Courtenay unless you prove yourselves unworthy--in Sir Barnabas’s view. For the next six months, the house and estate are yours to order as you will, though within certain strict limits, naturally.”
    “Limits?” Miles asked. “How strict? If our only freedom is to choose whether to eat in the library...”
    Snodgrass came in. “You rang, sir?” he said to Mr Harwood.
    “Mr Courtenay rang. He and Miss Wingate are now your employers.”
    “Very good, sir.” The butler bowed impassively but Miles had caught a glimpse of both curiosity and relief in his face. No doubt the man had expected Sir Neville to be his new master-- and had feared to find Mrs Euphemia Chidwell as his mistress. “I shall endeavour to give satisfaction,” he continued, and awaited orders.
    “I’m sure you will, Snodgrass,” said Miles. “We’ll have breakfast for two, in here, if you please. Miss Courtenay, what would you like?”
    Drooping in her seat, she looked at him blankly. The poor girl was too weary to make even so simple a decision.
    “Bacon and eggs?” he suggested. “Toast? Tea?”
    She nodded. “Yes, please.”
    “I’ll have cold meat, any kind but plenty of it, muffins if you have them, and ale. Will you join us, sir?” he asked the lawyer.
    “Most kind.” Mr Harwood’s eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. “A cup of coffee would not come amiss, and perhaps a muffin. Though I have already broken my fast, I must confess I am particularly partial to a toasted muffin with marmalade.” He patted his round belly lovingly.
    “I daresay you need to recruit your strength after this morning’s exertions,” Miles commiserated. “That will be all for now, thank you, Snodgrass.”
    “Very good, sir.” The butler turned to depart.
    “Wait,” said Miss Wingate. “Snodgrass, have chambers been prepared for myself and Mr Courtenay?”
    “I believe not, miss, no instructions having been received.” He hesitated. “Mr Neville--Sir Neville, I should say--and her ladyship have moved into the best bedchamber, miss. And Mrs Chidwell into the second best and...”
    “And so on down the line, I take it,” said Miles impatiently. “As Sir Barnabas’s granddaughter, Miss Wingrave is entitled to the best room.”
    “Oh no, I would not put anyone out. In truth, I care not where I sleep so long as there is a bed.”
    Miles eyed her with exasperation. Evidently it was not going to be easy to teach the chit to stand up for her rights, though she had at least overcome her qualms about addressing the butler.
    However, for the moment he gave in. “Fit us in where you can,” he told Snodgrass and dismissed him with a wave. As the door closed, he turned back to Mr Harwood. “Two questions, sir. First, as we are joint heirs, when Miss Wingate and I come to cuffs, who prevails?”
    “I never come to cuffs with anyone!”
    He grinned at her indignation. “Poorly phrased. I beg your pardon. Shall we say, on the doubtless rare occasions when we disagree.”
    “Er-hem.” The lawyer cleared his throat diffidently. “In cases where you are unable to reach a compromise, I am appointed adjudicator. I shall endeavour to be impartial.”
    “I’m sure you will, sir. Secondly, am I correct in supposing that one of the limits on our authority is that we cannot eject our unwanted guests from the manor?”
    “You are, Mr Courtenay. I regret to say, you are. For six months, or until the matter is otherwise finally settled, the Philpotts, Mrs Chidwell and her sister, and Mr Reece are entitled to remain here. They will not receive their bequests until then.”
    Miles groaned. “I was afraid of that.”
    “And I am obliged to stay,” Mr Harwood apologized.
    “We don’t mind that a bit,” said Miss Wingate at once, “do we, Mr Courtenay?”
    “Not a bit. But will it not disrupt your business, sir?”
    “My son does most of the business these days.