The Fitzroys would be arriving any moment, and Aaron couldn’t let them see his agitation. While he still wanted Miss Fitzroy off his racehorses, he didn’t want to scare her into running off to London because she’d caused too many people problems here in Newmarket.
To get his mind off that unsettling thought, he returned to prodding Oliver. Perhaps he could make his friend uncomfortable enough to start pacing and Aaron could join him in a show of support. “I’m glad you find this amusing, since it all connects to your stable.”
“Ah-ah.” Oliver waved a finger in the air. “My father’s stable, as you and everyone else has reminded me of late.” He shrugged. “In a few weeks, I’m marrying Rebecca. If things get too bad here, we can retreat to the city for the winter.”
Maybe Aaron should go to ground in London. He’d always spent part of the year there, though not as much since Graham had married. It would smack of running away, but he could eventually convince himself he was just letting things settle down until he could come back and pretend it had never happened.
Rather like he needed to pretend that kiss had never happened.
Forgetting it was a true impossibility, as every moment of it was etched into his brain like one of her brother’s carvings. He shuddered. Best not to think of her brother in relation to kissing Miss Fitzroy.
“Where did you find the brother?” Oliver asked.
“An abandoned cottage.”
“Odd.”
Aaron shrugged one shoulder and dragged a hand across his face. “Answers were in short supply yesterday, but I intend for them to be the main course this morning.”
“And I had Cook prepare a full spread. How foolish.”
How long did it take to fetch two people from his cottage? Aaron’s fingers itched to drum against the table, so he clasped them together until the knuckles turned white. Drumming fingers was a sitting man’s pacing, and he would not give in to it.
Then Oliver clapped his hands, jumped to his feet, and crossed to the door, throwing it open to say something to the footman standing outside the room. After a murmured conversation, he returned to the table and flopped back down in his chair, arms banging against the table.
“Do you know what you need?” Oliver asked.
Aaron gave his friend a wary, side-slanted look. “What?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea.” The footman returned with paper, ink, and a pen. Oliver continued speaking as he scribbled out a note. “I was hoping you could give me some direction. Since both of us are at a loss, I’m calling in reinforcements.”
He folded the note and passed it back to the footman. “Have this delivered to Hawksworth and placed directly into the hand of Lord Stildon immediately.”
“We do not need Hudson.”
“I’ve never been the best head in these situations, and since Graham has yet to materialize, Hudson is the next best choice. I haven’t known the man long, but you trust him, and since this is your problem, that’s good enough for me.”
“This isn’t my problem. It is our problem. She’s riding your horses.”
“All the more reason to invite Hudson. If this is a problem in a professional capacity, he should have a say, don’t you think?”
Considering Aaron would have had this meeting without Oliver if there’d been a way to do it, he most certainly did not agree. “I do not need Hudson’s assistance.”
“Maybe I do,” Oliver grumbled. “I’ve never had to be the solid one on my own before. I do think there’s something to the biblical sentiment of having a cord of three strands in your life. I could send for Trent if you’d rather.”
“No!” The word rushed out of Aaron’s mouth a little too quickly, but the last thing he needed was Trent becoming part of this farce. The man was far too cheerful and entirely too conniving. “If we must invite someone, Hudson will do.”
“That’s convenient, since I’ve already sent the missive.”
“Miss Fitzroy and Mr. Fitzroy, my lord.”
Oliver and Aaron both stood at the butler’s announcement. The urge to pace, to move, even to simply fidget with the serviette on the table grew as the reason for his agitation entered the room.
Miss Fitzroy’s clothes were the same ones from the day before, and they were wrinkled to the point of possibly being beyond redemption. He’d need to send someone to Meadowland Park to retrieve her belongings. Actually, that would have been the perfect thing to occupy Oliver. If only he’d thought of that five minutes ago.
As the four of them stared at one another, a small line of servants slid through the room, depositing tray after tray on the sideboard. Without a word, they removed themselves, leaving behind the delicious smells of a host of breakfast delights.
Mr. Fitzroy cleared his throat and glanced at the room’s occupants. “Given that this is one of life’s awkward moments, I do hope you won’t mind if I uncouthly help myself to the food.” Another glance swept the room before he shrugged and moved toward the sideboard. “My pride has never been as comforting as food, I must say.”
A smile tugged at Aaron’s mouth. He had wanted to find fault with a man who would hide while his sister trod into danger, but he had to respect someone who stated facts as they were and didn’t bother with the consequences.
The clink of serving dishes prodded everyone into movement, likely in the hopes that eating would ease the awkwardness.
Though Mr. Fitzroy had been the first to get his plate, he was the last to approach a chair. After staring grimly at the piece of furniture, he carefully lowered himself into it, wincing as he settled into the seat.
If that was genuine, it was no wonder the man refused to sit on a horse.
“Talk.” Aaron poked at his food and took a bite before looking expectantly at the pair on the other side of the table.
“That’s a dangerous command to give Sophia.”
The brother’s dry statement pulled a grin from Aaron before he could stop it. The woman’s tongue did like to run away with her. Then he recalled all the unorthodox ways she’d stopped herself from talking, which led to the kiss he was trying not to remember. “Be that as it is, I want to know anything I don’t already know.”
“I rattled on about most of it last night.” Miss Fitzroy’s face flamed. Was she too remembering what had stopped the rambling? The embarrassment didn’t make her shove food around on her plate in despondency, though. Despite the slump in her shoulders, she ate steadily.
“Perhaps the less jabbery version, then?”
She set her fork down and speared him with her gaze, her cheeks still flushed. “Father died when we were seventeen.”
When they were seventeen? Not just siblings, but twins?
“Mother passed within the year,” she continued in a brisk tone. “No one would hire us to do the horse training Father had done, and we eventually had to sell the house, land, and horses, along with most everything else, to pay his debts. Searching for work took us farther and farther from where we’d grown up.”
Mr. Fitzroy set his fork down and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I think I can condense this down to the parts you care about.”
“By all means.” Aaron stared at Mr. Fitzroy, daring the younger man to be the first to break eye contact.