No sooner had he clambered into his seat; his face next to the glass then he gave a startled exclamation. “Grandpapa from the picture!” he gasped, pointing a finger to the pane. “There!”
Jeremy looked amused. “That is not my father, but your uncle Nye,” he explained. “He does look very like that portrait of the fourth Viscount Faris, does he not?”
Teddy frowned. “But why does my uncle Nye look like grandpapa?” he asked.
Mina’s gaze darted to Jeremy, but he looked perfectly composed. “Because Vance blood flows in his veins too, my boy. Why else?”
“But my aunt…?”
“Your aunt has no Vance blood like us,” Jeremy reminded him gently. “You know she shares my Mama but not my Papa’s lineage.”
Teddy’s frown cleared. “Oh.” He glanced sidelong at Mina. “So, if my aunt and my uncle had a little boy, he would be more like a brother than a cousin to me.”
“He would still be your first cousin.” Jeremy laughed. “But a very close one indeed.” Teddy seemed satisfied with this and pressed his nose to the glass. “Mind you do not fog that windowpane,” Jeremy admonished him. “Your aunt is forced to clean those with her own fair hands.”
“Have you no servant, Auntie?” asked Teddy in surprise.
“Only one,” Mina admitted. “It is too bad, but no one wants to work for us here at such a lonely spot.”
“You have not yet replaced Ivy?” Jeremy asked with a yawn.
Mina shook her head. “Nor like to, apparently.”
He nodded. “Let me ask my housekeeper if they can find you someone,” he suggested. “We often turn people off if they displease my wife,” he observed with a grimace. “What was the name of that unfortunate girl your mother flew at last week?” he asked, turning to Teddy.
“Corin,” Teddy supplied sadly. “Mama pulled her hair and slapped her cheek so hard, it turned quite red.”
“She’ll be a local girl and looking for work, no doubt,” Jeremy hazarded.
Mina lowered her voice. “If she’s respectable, I have been reliably informed she will not want a position here.”
“Ah,” said Jeremy holding up a finger. “But that was before. All Penarth now knows there’s a mistress now in residence and a highly respectable one at that. She attends church every Sunday and has swept through with a new broom. Is that not so?”
Mina regarded him in surprise. “All of Penarth?”
“Assuredly,” he agreed. “I promise you.”
“Well, if you can find us another pair of hands, we would indeed be grateful, but we are badly in need of bar staff and I’m sure a former maidservant from Vance Park would not fall so far in grace as that.”
“No, but a footman might,” Jeremy suggested wryly. “Only Colfax stays the course, we get through them at a rate of knots as well.”
“What about Herney?” suggested Teddy without taking his eyes from the window. “He said he will work his notice and not another day. I heard him tell Harbottle so only yesterday.”
“I did not realize he was working his notice.” Jeremy looked startled. “Ah well, our loss may be your gain, sister.”
“Well, that would be wonderful indeed if you may work such a miracle,” Mina said doubtfully.
“Leave it with me,” Jeremy said confidently. “And now, silence while we enjoy the bout.”
Mina watched for a couple of minutes but found the prospect of two bare-chested men repeatedly thumping each other in the face, while the crowd shouted and jostled excitedly around them, to be one, she did not savor. She slipped back to the kitchen as Jeremy explained the precise science of the counter punch to his son and heir.
Soon she had stacked the washed pans against the draining board and started on the gravy smeared plates which started to appear via a sulky Reuben. He did not speak as he plunked them down beside her, so Mina did not trouble herself to either.
She had soaked through two drying cloths already and was fetching a third freshly laundered tea towel from the drawer when her brother reappeared, once more carrying Teddy.
“We’re off now, Mina. Night is falling and I’d better take this one home.”
She nodded and came forward to kiss Teddy’s cheek. “Will you need to collect Colfax from outside?” she asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “I shall not spoil his fun.”
“Teddy will not slip from the saddle while he’s asleep?” she fretted.
Her nephew’s eyes flickered open. “I’m not so tired as all that!” he objected.
“He’s an excellent seat.” Jeremy laughed. “Besides, I should not let him fall.” He looked at her critically a moment. “You’re overworked here, Mina. I shall speak to my housekeeper without delay.”
“I would appreciate it,” she admitted. “It has been a long day, but I shall take myself off to bed directly.”
He nodded.
“Will you not kiss Papa goodnight?” Teddy asked from his father’s shoulder.
Mina started. “Of course, we are brother and sister after all,” she said bracingly and stepped forward to lightly peck Jeremy’s cheek. “Goodnight Jeremy,” she said and saw a flicker of surprise in his expression before he smiled back at her, looking pleased.
“Goodnight Mina.”
She did not watch them depart through the window, but instead finished up in the kitchen and then went through to the scullery to wash before bed. She was just fastening the buttons at her neck as she walked into the connecting passageway to the hallway when she paused, hearing a burst of husky laughter. She could see the shadow against the wall of two figures, just out of view who were intertwined at the foot of the stairs.
“Finally noticed me, have you?” the voice asked flirtatiously. “I been waiting for you to cast your eyes in my direction for an eternity, Clem Dabney. I thought that Goldie had sunk her talons in you good and proper.”
“You’re a local then, are you my beauty?” he responded gamely. “Now that does surprise me, for you’ve not the regional way of speech at all.”
“Good God, no!” the woman replied with sounding annoyed. “I’m no Cornish maid!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Dabney replied, lowering his voice. “For I’ve no use for maidens, none at all. I prefer a more seasoned hand at the plough.”
“Prefer to ride below the crupper, do you?” she asked huskily. “I must confess I’ve no use for novices when it comes to plough my furrow.”
Mina flushed, she ought not to be listening to this, she thought. The terms might be agricultural, but she knew from their tone they were not discussing anything as wholesome as farming. She was just sliding her foot back for a stealthy retreat when she heard the front door open and close and a third voice raised to join the throng.
“Ah, there you are Clara,” said a booming voice. “I’ve secured a prime position in the courtyard and mean to sit atop our carriage to watch the next bout.”
“I was just telling Mr Dabney here, my dear how you’d laid your bets on him at the last three fights,” his lady answered bold as brass.