Worth Lord of Reckoning by Grace Burrowes Read Free Book Online Page A

piece of toast, then jam, then sliced it in half and put a triangle on Jacaranda’s plate. “Six daughters?”
    “The Damuses have eight girls, but only two are marriageable age.”
    “We’ll start with the Damuses, and you will join me for breakfast regularly, Wyeth. I’ll need your familiarity with the parish to plan the girls’ social calendar.” He bent to take a bite of his toast, while Jacaranda was sure he was hiding another smile.
    He’d cornered her neatly, making her attendance at breakfast a show of consideration for the children, not an order.
    “I will join you for breakfast.” She took another bite of a crepe so light it nearly levitated off of her fork. “And only breakfast.”
    “Oh, fair enough, for the present. Now finish your meal. I’ve a notion to look at that bump on your head.”
    As if Worth Kettering’s notions bore the same weight as celestial commandments or royal decrees.
    “No need for that. I’ve quite recovered.” Jacaranda chewed her toast carefully, for even toast required mastication, and the effect was to pull on that area of her head still lightly throbbing.
    “You’ve put every bite to the same side of your mouth, my dear. Your injury pains you. Did you sleep well?”
    “I did.” After a time. “I usually do.” Particularly when her pillow was swathed in silk.
    “I usually don’t,” he said, frowning at his tea cup.
    “Perhaps the country air will agree with you.” She’d meant to say it maliciously, because he was so great a fool as to think correspondence from Town more important than a newly discovered sister.
    “Intriguing thought. So what would a conscientious landowner do, were he facing my day?”
    Papa had been nothing if not conscientious about his acres, and Grey followed very much in Papa’s footsteps.
    “A conscientious landowner would ride out. He might take his land steward, particularly after an absence, or take a few of his favorite hounds.” Or he’d take a few of his more boisterous sons, and the house would, for a few short hours, be blessedly peaceful. “He’d look in on his tenants, especially those with new babies or a recent loss.”
    “I like babies.”
    Oh, he would . Jacaranda finished her toast.
    “Will my steward know of such things? Babies and departed grannies?”
    “The Hendersons lost a child this spring, a bad case of flu,” Jacaranda said, pushing her nearly empty plate away a few inches. “A little girl named Linda. She had always been sickly, but they’d got her through the winter and were hoping she’d turned a corner.”
    He took a bite from the half crepe she’d left on her plate, chewed and arranged his fork and knife across the top of his plate. “You want me to call on these people?”
    “I’ll pack you a hamper. They’ve many mouths to feed.”
    “I can’t ride over with a hamper on Goliath’s quarters.” He lifted his tea cup, examined the dregs, set it down. “Come with me?”
    A request, not an order. Good behavior must always be rewarded. “To call on a tenant, I can accompany you. Their wives will be glad of another woman to chat with.”
    “You know their wives?”
    “When your tenants have illnesses or particular needs, they send to us here and we provide what aid we can. The English countryside remains a place where one’s neighbors are a source of support, and of course I know their wives.”
    He folded his serviette in precise thirds and laid it by his plate. “Where else do I need to show the flag?”
    “These calls, the first you’ve made in years, aren’t showing the flag.” She regarded him with some displeasure, for the crepes had been very good, while the company was vexing. To deal with this man, she’d need her strength. “These people labor for your enrichment. Their welfare should concern you.”
    “It should,” he agreed easily enough, giving Jacaranda the sense he’d lost interest in her scolds. “Let’s have a look at that knot on your head, hmm?” He rose