The Firstborn

Chapter Ten

He arrived at Denton Castle, his country estate in southern Derbyshire, quite late in the afternoon. He'd sent word to his sister notifying her of his imminent arrival, but considering the state of the roads and the weather over the course of the journey from London, he would not be surprised to find that his arrival had preceded any message sent from his own desk.

As the coach turned through the gates, he leaned back in his seat, his gaze directed heavenwards, though he saw nothing more than the red satin interior of the roof. It had initially been a relief to leave London and his brother behind, his townhouse having rapidly been usurped by David and all of his cronies, but as soon as he'd left Watford behind him, a new set of worries had begun to take hold.

He'd left his brother in his home, where all sorts of silver and paintings and various family valuables were kept. Of course, he'd given word to the servants to lock up the costliest items and keep a close eye on the rest, but still the unease settled over him, as if he'd left a child home alone with a cricket bat and a cabinet full of the finest porcelain for practice.

The coach came to a stop outside a grand, stone building, complete with crenelated walls over tall windows that seemed to take up more space than the stones used to fashion the place. It was nothing more than a showpiece, built in the early seventeenth century by its first owners as a grossly conspicuous demonstration of their wealth. Today, the building was in need of a great deal of repairs, and though he was often tempted to sell it and place the burden of remodelling on someone else's shoulders, his sister would not allow it, and he suspected she had decamped for the castle four years earlier especially so he would not sell it out from under her.

He waited for the coachman to descend and for the door to be opened and the steps to be lowered. By the time he stepped down onto the gravel drive that curved around the outer walls of the house, his sister had already come out through the front entrance to meet him.

"I received your letter this morning," she began without preamble, and tilted her cheek up to him to be kissed. "And I knew you would not be far behind. You are terrible about giving one proper notice of your comings and goings, Finn. It is a habit that no woman of any sense will tolerate in a husband."

"You are tolerant enough of it," he replied gruffly, and reached up to rub a kink out of his neck with his hand as they walked into the house.

"But I am not your wife," she pointed out, her pert mouth curving upwards in a smile as they passed through the entrance and into the foyer. "A fact for which I am forever grateful. I may love you both dearly, but I think I would rather abscond to a convent before setting up house with either you or David. Which brings me to another point," she said, plowing over any attempt he may have made to insert a word into the conversation. "What did you wish to speak to me about concerning our prodigal brother? Your letter was incredibly vague and contained a frustrating lack of details, and I could only solace my curiosity with the fact that I knew you would be arriving before the day was out."

They wandered into the drawing room, after Haughton had divested himself of his coat and hat. His sister rang for tea, while he proceeded to pace about the room, his limbs restless after so many hours spent folded inside a coach bouncing over roads rutted and pock-marked with puddles from the recent rains.

Bess settled on a chair and picked up a bit of embroidery that he would have sworn she had been working on since the last time he'd paid her a visit, three months before, and yet she didn't appear to have made any progress.

"Are you going to stomp about the rooms all afternoon, or are you going to speak in something resembling a civilized manner?"

Haughton stopped his pacing and glanced over at her. She still had that infernal smile teasing her mouth, and her eyes glimmered in a vexatious way he suspected only a younger sister could master. "David is in London. He's taken up residence at Haughton House."