Free The Heart's Companion by Holly Newman

and rest. You have had a most frightening experience. I shall do very well with Mrs. and Miss Culpepper. Miss Twinkleham, please take Edward upstairs now." So saying she marshaled them together like a mother hen her chicks.
    A quick glance in a tall pier glass on the stairway landing convinced Jane it was a good idea for her to freshen up; but, she would not remain above stairs. She fully intended to have words with the Earl of Royce for his high-handed manners before too much more time had passed! His arrogance obviously knew no bounds. If those were continental manners he’d adopted, she would be certain to let him know they were not appreciated in England!
    When she came down some twenty minutes later, bathed, her hair once again neatly arranged, and a soothing unguent applied to the worst of her scrapes and bruises, she discovered Jeremy once again in his listening position, this time hovering against the library door. An amused, appreciative smile twisted her lips and lit her eyes.
    "Listen closely, Jeremy, for I’ll expect a full report," she whispered.
    The young footman stiffened and turned. "Begging your pardon, ma’am?"
    "Oh, it’s to be that way, is it?" she observed, nodding her head sagely. "Just be careful lest you forget for whom you work and be out of work," she snapped, thoroughly nettled.
    Behind the footman came the rising sound of voices. The library door cracked open, and Jane distinctly heard Mr. Culpepper addressing his son. "If you’re going to eavesdrop, get it right, boy!" His words were followed by his person dragging his son out by the ear.
    "Ouch, ouch! Please, Papa! I promise, Papa!" the child wailed as he was led past her.
    Jane blinked in surprise at this turnabout. She looked questioningly at the earl, who followed the Culpeppers out; but a little negative shake of his head forced her, seething with curiosity, to hold her peace.
    Mr. Culpepper led his son to the manor house door and pushed him outside. "Wait for us in the carriage. I’ll attend to you later," he told the red-faced child. Then he turned his back on Henry and shut the door.
    He glanced up at Jane and scowled, his lower lip protruding sulkily. He looked as if he wished to say something, then changed his mind and raked a beefy hand through his scraggly gray-streaked hair. Shuffling uneasily from one foot to the other, he nodded shortly at her and turned to enter the parlor to fetch his wife and daughter.
    Jane looked at the earl. "What has been going on?" she asked, coming to stand beside him.
    "Wait," he said, nodding in the direction of the parlor. He turned toward Bertram. "I’m certain Miss Twinkleham is waiting to fuss over you. You’d best go on up."
    Bertram made a sour expression.
    "Be thankful you have people interested in your welfare. The world is a cold and cruel place without them, and you are not, entirely, without blame," the earl reminded him sharply.
    The boy nodded and with dragging feet slowly mounted the stairs.
    Impatience welled within Jane. "Will you please tell me what’s been going on? I’ve been on tenterhooks for the past half hour!" she hissed softly, glancing around to see that no one was listening.
    The earl glanced up and down the hall and led her to a long bench near the door. "Henry apparently overheard his sister telling her mother about your—ah—nickname. But he did not hear their conversation clearly. He only overheard snatches. Somehow he thought you were referred to as an Old Witch rather than an Ice Witch and taunted Bertram with that name."
    "Old Witch?" Jane repeated, dazed. Then she fell to laughing.
    The earl remained punctiliously serious. "It was, quite naturally, more than the boy’s honor could bear. "
    "Oh, come now, my lord. What’s in a name?" she returned easily.
    The earl refused to be drawn. "You fail to appreciate the enormity of the situation, here. You were being insulted. He, as the nearest male relative, was defending your honor."
    "Defending my honor? Oh,