Free Ruth Langan by Blackthorne Page A

draped around his shoulders.
    “Good day, Bennett. Isn’t it a lovely day?”
    For a long moment he merely stared at her, as though unaccustomed to having anyone speak to him. Then he nodded.
    She gave him a wide innocent smile. “Liat and I are going for a walk in the gardens. I wondered if you and Minerva might want to join us.”
    The young servant dashed in behind her. “Master Bennett, I tried to explain....”
    Olivia cut her off with a gentle smile. “I could have one of the stable lads carry you downstairs and settle you on a bench. The sun’s out this afternoon. A fine day to sit and admire the gardens.”
    He showed no emotion as he continued studying her, and she was about to admit defeat when he shyly nodded his head.
    “You’d like to join us?”
    He nodded again.
    “Splendid.” She turned to Minerva. “If you’ll fetch a stable lad, I’ll go on ahead with Liat and find a suitable bench in the sunlight.”
    “Yes, miss.” The servant glanced uneasily from Bennett to the nursemaid, then hurried away, fearful of what the housekeeper would have to say about this.
     
    “I intend to ride over every section of Stamford land and speak to the tenant farmers myself, Pembroke.” Quenton paced the floor of his grandfather’s study, hands behind his back. “As soon as I’ve had time to examine all the accounts.”
    “Very good, my lord.”
    “From what I’ve studied so far, it simply doesn’t make sense.” He stopped, frowned. “The land appears to be yielding rich crops. The herds appear to be thriving. Yet the Stamford accounts are actually dwindling.”
    “Old Lord Stamford’s health was failing in the last years, my lord. Perhaps his figures are incorrect.”
    “That was my first thought. But so far I’ve found no errors on my grandfather’s part.” He began pacing again. “No matter. I’ll get to the bottom of this. If I have to, I’ll ride to London myself and speak with the solicitors about...” He looked up at the knock on the door. The housekeeper stepped in, looking even more frazzled than usual.
    “Yes, Mistress Thornton?”
    “It’s about your brother, m’lord.”
    Quenton visibly paled. “Is he ill?”
    “Nay, m’lord. But he’s...he’s insisted on going outdoors.”
    “You mean he spoke?”
    “Nay, m’lord.”
    “Then how could he insist upon anything?”
    “That elf-skinned, tickle-brained servant Minerva told me. She said Miss St. John invited Master Bennett to join her and the lad in the garden, and Master Bennett has set his mind on doing just that. You see?” She looked beyond him and pointed.
    Quenton walked to the window and stared down at the strange procession. A muscular lad was carrying Bennett in his arms. Behind them trailed the young servant, Minerva, carrying an array of quilts and pillows. Following them was another lad toting a heavy arm chair.
    “I agree that it seems a great deal of work for the servants. But I don’t see the harm, Mistress Thornton.”
    “Yer brother hasn’t been out of his room since...” She paused and glanced at Pembroke for support. “He must be looked after like a child, m’lord.”
    Quenton turned to Pembroke. “Do you agree?”
    The older man walked to the window, then sadly nodded. “Your grandfather feared Master Bennett might take a chill. In his condition, he would be hard-pressed to fight it. If you’d like, Mistress Thornton can order the servants inside at once, my lord.”
    “Nay.” Quenton touched his arm, then hurried across the room. “You and I will see to it ourselves, Pembroke.”
    The butler followed reluctantly as Quenton made his way downstairs and out to the garden. Quenton’s frown deepened. He had spotted the nursemaid on the far side of the garden making her way toward the others. So, this entire foolish scheme had been her idea. It would seem she was intent upon insinuating herself into affairs that were of no concern to her. It was time someone reminded her that her only duty lay