An Angel for the Earl by Bárbara Metzger Page B

use her annuity to keep the Abbey in appearances, how could he argue? Of course, he hadn’t seen much evidence of her contributions. The drive was so pitted he had to get down and lead his pair through the ruts, for fear of damaging the curricle’s wheels. His first view of the Abbey itself, with its hodgepodge of styles and additions, also showed boarded windows, ropes across areas presumably in danger from flying tiles, and shrubbery gone wild. Doors were hanging loose on the stable, and the large indoor staff was in shabby livery.
    â€œEverything will be fine now that you are home, Kieren. We shall open the ballroom and the conservatory, of course. Rehire the gardeners, order new draperies for the public rooms, and—”
    â€œHold, Mother. If you wish to apply your widow’s pension to the improvements, I’ll be forever in your debt, for I haven’t resources for any of those things.”
    Lady Stanford did not offer a penny more of her substantial income. “Of course you do. We heard all about your winning at the races.”
    Kerry wondered how they could have heard so quickly. He glanced at Aunt Clara’s nodding gray head. Did she really hear from Uncle Nigel? He’d have to ask Lucy about that.
    â€œI’m sorry to disappoint you, Mother, but I had some necessary expenses of my own. And you cannot have heard of the fire at Stanford House.” Or the paintings, he hoped. “My finances are already strained.”
    â€œThen why did you come home?” his loving mother asked ungraciously. “I’m already at the edge of ruin, trying to hold house for you while you live the high life in London.”
    Where Kerry wished he’d stayed. “I know, Mother, and I truly appreciate your generosity. I fully intend to repay you, though I cannot see how at this moment. I came as you requested, to see if there is anything to be done to make the properties more profitable.”
    â€œI am sure Wilmott is wringing every shilling out of the place already,” Lady Stanford told him angrily.
    â€œNigel says he’s cheating you, Kerry,” Aunt Clara put in, earning her a scowl from the dowager.
    â€œThat’s neither here nor there, Kieren. You’ll not make a go of farming. Your father never managed to. You’ll just have to marry a rich female. Even your father managed
that.
”
She spoke with more than her usual degree of bitterness, then cracked her lined face into a smile. “At least you’re better favored than the old windbag was. The local girls will be tripping over themselves for an introduction. Naturally I’ll make sure you meet only the ones with generous portions. With your looks and the title and my careful attention to those details of dowries, we’ll have Stanford Abbey in prime twig in no time.”
    â€œMother, I have no inten—” Kerry began to object.
    â€œDon’t think I mean to hang on your coattails either. When I know you are secure, and my accounts have been settled, I’ll take a little place in Bath. After a year or two, of course. Your new countess will need me here to show her how to go on before that.”
    â€œMother—”
    â€œNow, let me see, there’s Westcott’s girl. They were hoping to bring that duke up to scratch, but nothing came of it. And Lady Prudlow’s granddaughters will be visiting her for the holidays. We’ll have to hold a ball, I think. Yes, that should do it, rather than waiting for invitations.” Suddenly the dowager’s lined face crumpled in mid-strategy. “My jewels! How can I entertain all those well-dowered females without my jewels? I’ll look no-account to Lady Prudlow and that shrewish Isabella Westcott. Oh, how can I ever show my face in the neighborhood without a tiara?” she sobbed.
    Clara shook her head but went for the vinaigrette. Kerry took his mother’s hand—ringless, he noted with