Mastering the Marquess by Vanessa Kelly Page A

an offer of a thick slice of plum cake. Both Annabel and Robert enthusiastically accepted plates loaded with cake and scones topped with thick-clotted cream. Clearly, the distressing events of the last hour had done little to dampen their youthful appetites.
    Stirring his tea, he stared thoughtfully at Meredith as she served the others.
    â€œMiss Burnley,” he began, after she had taken the seat next to him, “it occurs to me that you’re in rather desperate need of a footman, preferably one who is both large and able-bodied. You must allow me, or, rather, Mr. Chislett, to find you one immediately.”
    Meredith toyed with her teacup for a moment before replying in an apologetic but firm tone of voice.
    â€œI’m sorry, my lord. I don’t think that is possible. As you know, we intend to live modestly and quietly. Agatha is more than capable of answering the door and running any necessary errands. I’m quite certain that we don’t need a footman.”
    Her tilted chin suggested resentment that she had been forced to admit they could not afford the extra help.
    â€œI feel certain my aunt would think it improper for you to be without a footman to take on those duties,” he persisted. “You need someone who is capable of turning away unwelcome visitors from your doorstep.”
    Meredith’s sweet mouth pursed stubbornly at his refusal to drop the subject.
    â€œWe do have Mrs. Biggs,” she blurted out defensively.
    She did have a point, but Silverton doubted even the masterful Mrs. Biggs could subdue both Isaac and Jacob Burnley at once.
    â€œAs capable as Mrs. Biggs is, I still believe it’s not fitting to have no male servants in your household to assist you,” he replied dryly.
    She brightened at this last comment.
    â€œOh, but we do, Lord Silverton,” she exclaimed as she unleashed a dazzling smile in an obvious attempt to placate him. “Our coachman, John Ruddle, is normally about to assist us with anything we might require. I simply needed him to conduct some business in the city today. That is why you don’t see him.”
    Silverton squashed a growing sense of irritation. Clearly the lady was used to ordering the household in her own way and did not take kindly to any interference. Especially, he suspected, of the masculine variety.
    Of course, it was rather puzzling that he seemed compelled to direct her living arrangements to his own satisfaction. He felt vaguely uneasy as he tried to reason out the answer to that question, until he remembered he might be a candidate for Annabel’s hand. Surely that gave him the right to ensure the girl’s safety, and that of her sister.
    â€œJohn Ruddle,” he finally replied. “Is that the elderly man we saw at Miss Noyes’s rooms in Hans Town last week? The one with the slight stoop and the arthritic limp?”
    Meredith frowned down her elegant nose at him. “John Ruddle has been with my family since I was a child. He is both loyal and extremely dedicated. In fact, we wouldn’t have been able to escape from Swallow Hill without his assistance.”
    Silverton drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Perhaps you can enlighten me as to how loyalty will enable an elderly man to keep your various unworthy relations from forcing their way into this house.”
    He found it immensely annoying that Meredith could be so naïve. Did she not understand how vulnerable she and her sister were, given the uncertainties of Annabel’s legal situation?
    Meredith glared at him, her eyes narrowing in a mutinous gaze. He had seen that expression before, in his uncle’s study. How was it that only a few moments ago she had been gazing at him with a look of adoration and now she appeared ready to box his ears? She really was one of the most irritating women he had ever met in his life.
    Meredith thrust her elegant little chin up defiantly.
    â€œLord Silverton, not