Free Laura Matthews by A Very Proper Widow Page A

and by what you’ve told me of his predicament. You have to admit that your friendship may have blinded you to the real circumstances.”
    “I wouldn’t admit anything of the sort,” she snapped.
    “Then you’re . . .”
    “A fool,” she finished for him when he stopped himself. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that before.”
    “That was inexcusable of me. All I meant at the time was that you appeared rather foolhardy to have taken on so many guests.” As though he couldn’t restrain himself, he added. “And such unpalatable ones.”
    “The only thing we disagree on there is the matter of obligation, Lord Alvescot. It isn’t a case of sensibility.” Vanessa turned her gaze to where Louisa stood chatting with Paul Burford. “I want you to promise me you won’t take any action about Paul without first discussing it with me. No, more than that. I want you to make some effort not to convey your suspicions to him.”
    “I’m hardly likely to do that.”
    Vanessa frowned at him. “You don’t understand, Lord Alvescot. Your natural demeanor is suspicious. I’m sure you’ll excuse my forthrightness, since you are apparently a frank person yourself, but you would have to make a concerted effort to look other than chillingly distrustful of your fellow man.”
    His eyes widened, but if he had intended a retort, it was forestalled by the announcement of lunch. In the general exodus, Vanessa was separated from him by hungry guests and he found himself seated, as he had the previous evening, at the opposite end of the table. Vanessa, calmly smiling, put Paul Burford on her right.
    * * * *
    Every one of them is crazy, Alvescot decided as he ate his meal in haughty silence. He had thought Vanessa Damery at least had some regard for his consequence. No one had ever told him before that he appeared “chillingly distrustful” of everyone, and he didn’t believe it for a minute. These plebeians simply did not comprehend the reserve with which a peer of the realm was obliged to disport himself.
    Would she have him act like the other “gentlemen” in her household? Smugly complacent like Edward Curtiss, or insufferably priggish like Captain Lawrence? Or perhaps inanely self-absorbed like the perpetual suitor, William Oldcastle? The poor woman had lost touch with civilized society. Probably she didn’t even remember Frederick’s elegant bearing, his distinguished manners, surrounded as she was with such boors. Obviously, she couldn’t recognize a real gentleman when she encountered one!
    Which led him to wonder how her poor son—and his godson!—was going to grow up to be one. He had no models on which to pattern himself, with the dubious exception of Paul Burford. Alvescot was not immune to that young man’s easy charm, but he was well-prepared to resist it. He’d met charming rascals before, and he’d met men whose values were flexible when their resources were limited. If he was suspicious, he told himself righteously, it was with good cause. And he was not willing to see Frederick’s son emulate a man who might turn out to be a scoundrel, no matter what Paul Burford’s surface appearance might be to the contrary.
    Alvescot remembered, suddenly, that he had promised little John he would watch him ride today, and that he would go to visit the canal with him tomorrow. For a moment he thought of putting the lad off, since he intended to pursue his investigations of the estate management with vigor, but one glance at Vanessa Damery convinced him otherwise. She would consider it callous behavior, no doubt, being the devoted mother she was. Women with children got their priorities confused. It was a wonder she’d noticed the deterioration of the estate at all!
    The luncheon was criticized, as usual, by Mabel Curtiss, but Alvescot found it perfectly adequate, though he didn’t pay much attention to what he ate. Mabel made it clear to him that he had a treat in store that evening, because she had herself prepared the