The Spare by Carolyn Jewel

out, very pointedly left the door open.
    Tiern-Cope glanced at the desktop and set aside a stack of papers. A tray with a teapot, one cup, a saucer and a half-eaten scone took up the space to his right. To his left sat a wooden chest about a foot square. She supposed he locked the household cash and his most important papers in the chest. He gestured to a tufted armchair, inviting her to sit. "At ease, Miss Willow." All business. Not a drop of warmth. She had no idea what to expect. Except that she would at last know what she'd come to Pennhyll to remember, for she had no doubt as to the reason for his summons.
    "My Lord." She perched on the edge of the chair, fighting the urge to put a hand to her aching head. Lack of sleep, she decided. Since coming to Pennhyll, she'd begun having nightmares again, horrible dreams of someone threatening her, of running and running and however fast she ran, never escaping. She'd not slept well since. "I'm ready."
    Still standing, he moved another sheet of paper to the pile on his right, ignoring the chest, the tea and her. He wore fawn breeches, a brown waistcoat and a camel-hair jacket. Despite the informality of his dress, he seemed more formal than ever. No level of informality disguised his Alexander looks. What, she wondered, would happen if the present Tiern-Cope ever learned to smile? Half the women in Far Caister swooned over him without his mouth so much as twitching. If ever he did crack a smile, she suspected the rest would swoon, too, while the other half fainted dead away. He looked up, and the question seemed irrelevant. This man surely never smiled in all his life and never would. "I have not been myself since I came to Pennhyll, Miss Willow. I do not sleep well."
    "An epidemic, it seems."
    His icy gaze fell colder yet. "I am well aware of my social shortcomings, Miss Willow, and I hope you will make an allowance for them, as well as forgive me for bringing you here in order that we may be private."
    Her heart flew to her throat. "I imagine it's necessary. Privacy."
    He gave tier a stare that made her wish she'd chosen a chair farther from his desk. Lord, that icy-blue gaze could peel paint from the walls. "Are you absolutely certain," he said, "that you agree to this?"
    "Yes."
    "Then I may expect your full cooperation."
    "Yes."
    He looked at her. "My
Lord
." After a long moment, he said, "I will have you know your place, Miss Willow, and have you stay in it. Is that understood?"
    "Yes, my Lord."
    "What is your income per annum?"
    "It varies, sir."
    "Let me ask the question another way. May I presume that your father left you and your mother adequately provisioned for his absence?"
    "No. He did not."
    "Your father owned property. A fairly considerable estate."
    "Yes, sir."
    "And he took no steps to provide for his family?"
    "It seems not."
    "You will not be disrespectful." He spoke in an uninflected tone, but the effect was worse than a shout.
    "I cannot believe he left us nothing." She met his gaze and found no comfort in the chilly blue depths. "I engaged an attorney to look into Papa's estate."
    "And?"
    "Nothing came of it but his bills."
    He moved from behind his desk until he stood before her, hands clasped behind his back. "Had you no guardian?"
    "My uncle, I suppose."
    "You don't know?"
    "I was ten when my father died. No one told me what was going on. My uncle looked after us. For a while."
    "What does your uncle say about your fortune?"
    "He passed on seven or eight years ago. My cousin Mr. Hew Willow has the estate now."
    "Why doesn't he look after you?"
    "I do not know."
    "Where is he?"
    "I don't know. He's been away. We don't correspond."
    "Miss Willow."
    "There was talk of a duel, sir. I heard, and I believe, that he fled England because he killed a man. Or nearly so. I do not know the particulars."
    "A swordsman, I take it."
    "I've no idea. My cousin is considered an excellent huntsman, though. He lives for shooting. He would surely have used a pistol though, for