Heir of Danger Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyed him speculatively from the far end of the table.
    “I’m afraid everyone else came and went ages ago.” Elisabeth’s smile stretched from ear to ear. More manic than cheerful.
    “Good. I detest being jostled while I drink my tea.” He drifted to the plates, heaping his high before dropping into a seat across from them, reaching for a clean cup and saucer, asking her to pass the salt. “Fabulous eggs. But then, your cook always had a knack. Do you remember when I visited in aught-three? Coddled to perfection, they were. Never had better.”
    Shaw regarded him with curiosity. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Mr.—”
    “Martin,” Brendan answered around a mouthful. “John Martin. Second cousin. Or is it third? Can’t keep us all straight. There’s more of us than a dog has fleas. Isn’t that right, Lissa?”
    Shaw offered him a placid nod while Elisabeth’s stiff smile faltered around the edges.
    “A little bird tells me you’re moving to London soon. Be careful, Mr. Shaw. Elisabeth may bankrupt you once she’s released on the big-city mantua makers and ribbon merchants.”
    “I never—” Elisabeth spluttered.
    “I trust we won’t need to worry overmuch about expenses,” Shaw replied.
    Brendan speared his sausage. “No, silly me. Elisabeth’s rolling in the ready, isn’t she?”
    Shaw answered with a jovial laugh as if Brendan had made the funniest of jokes.
    “London, Gordon?”
    His attention flicked to Elisabeth. “I can’t very well get ahead from the wilds of Ireland, can I?”
    “I suppose. I—”
    “London is a different place for a married woman than for a young maid making her come-out. Far more to do and see than you can imagine.” He warmed to his subject, his voice rising in volume. “The invitations. Parties, dinners, balls. The
ton
will be clamoring to meet the newest jewel in their crown.”
    She straightened, shooting Brendan a dangerous stare. “Of course. I’d forgotten we’d discussed the move, and you’re quite right.”
    Taken over by an imp of mischief, Brendan couldn’t help himself. How much would it take to puncture that pompous self-importance? “I suppose your aunts are excited to move. Didn’t Mrs. Pheeney spend a number of years near Richmond?”
    “What?” Shaw and Elisabeth both began talking at once. “Aunt Pheeney and Aunt Fitz? They won’t be—”
    Shaw recovered first. “They’re needed to oversee things here until a suitable agent is hired.”
    “But Mr. Adams?” Elisabeth’s voice came uncertain.
    “Is a frightful pushover. The tenants walk all over him, and he’s so coarse. Not at all the way I imagine the land agent for such a fine estate should carry himself. Besides, I see a whole slew of improvements to the house and grounds, beginning perhaps as soon as the autumn. We’ll need someone we can trust to see them through to completion.”
    Elisabeth’s brows contracted in a frown. “Dun Eyre doesn’t need improving.”
    Uh-oh. Brendan knew that look. He’d seen it most recently last night just before he’d taken a fist to the face. Apparently Shaw had yet to experience Elisabeth’s temper. He barreled on, oblivious to her tight jaw and set shoulders.
    “We’ll start with the gardens,” he said. “I’ve just the plan—”
    “Not the gardens!” Brendan and Elisabeth spoke in unison.
    Shaw cast them a sympathetic smile. “No one likes change, but when we’re finished, Elisabeth, this old place will rival any of the great houses in England. Chatsworth or even Blenheim.”
    “Blenheim?” Great-aunt Charity roused herself from her dry toast. “Went there once as a girl. Got pinched by the late duke and slept in a horrid bedchamber smelling of camphor. Never went back.”
    “Probably weren’t invited back,” was Shaw’s cool comment as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.
    “That was Sir Wallace, Charity. And you married him,” Miss Sara Fitzgerald corrected.
    “Well, had to after that, didn’t