The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(20)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

“Mrs. Wren.” He glowered at her. “Haven’t you yet dressed?”

Anna looked down at her wrinkled wrapper and bare toes. “Evidently not, my lord.”

The dog pushed past the earl’s legs and shoved his muzzle into her hand.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because it’s too early to do so?” The dog leaned against Anna as she petted him.

Lord Swartingham scowled at the oblivious hound. “You mug,” he said.

“I beg your pardon!”

The earl turned his scowl on her. “Not you, the dog.”

“Who is it, Anna?” Mother Wren stood on the stairs, peering anxiously down. Fanny hovered in the hall.

“It’s the Earl of Swartingham, Mother,” Anna said as if it were usual for peers to come calling before breakfast. She turned back to him and said more formally, “May I present my mother-in-law, Mrs. Wren. Mother, this is his lordship, Edward de Raaf, the Earl of Swartingham.”

Mother Wren, in a frothy pink wrapper, bobbed a perilous curtsy on the stairs. “How do you do?”

“A pleasure, I’m sure, ma’am,” the man at the door muttered.

“Has he broken his fast yet?” Mother Wren asked Anna.

“I don’t know.” Anna swiveled to Lord Swartingham, whose scarred cheeks were reddening. “Have you broken your fast yet?”

“I…” He seemed uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He frowned harder.

“Ask him in, Anna, do,” Mother Wren prompted.

“Won’t you please join us for breakfast, my lord?” Anna inquired sweetly.

The earl nodded. Still frowning, he ducked his head to clear the lintel and stepped inside the cottage.

The elder Mrs. Wren swept down the staircase, fuchsia ribbons fluttering. “I am so glad to meet you, my lord. Fanny, hurry and put the kettle on.”

Fanny squealed and dashed into the kitchen. Mother Wren ushered their guest into the tiny sitting room, and Anna noticed it seemed to shrink in size as he entered it. He sat down gingerly on the only armchair while the ladies took the settee. The dog happily made a circuit of the room, poking his nose into corners until the earl growled at him to sit down.

Mother Wren smiled brightly. “Anna must have been mistaken when she said you’d sacked her.”

“What?” He gripped the arms of his chair.

“She was under the impression that you would no longer have need of a secretary.”

“Mother,” Anna whispered.

“That is what you said, dear.”

The earl’s eyes were intent on Anna. “She was mistaken. She is still my secretary.”

“Oh, how nice!” Mother Wren positively beamed. “She was quite upset last night when she thought she was no longer employed.”

“Mother—”

The older woman leaned forward confidentially as if Anna had disappeared from the room. “Why, her eyes were quite red when she came in from the carriage. I think she may have been weeping.”

“Mother!”

Mrs. Wren turned an innocent gaze on her daughter-in-law. “Well, they were, dear.”

“Were they, indeed?” the earl murmured. His own ebony eyes gleamed.

Fortunately, Fanny saved her from making a reply by entering with the breakfast tray. Anna noted with relief that the girl had thought to make coddled eggs and to toast some bread to go with their usual porridge. She’d even found a bit of ham. Anna sent an approving nod to the little maid, who grinned back cheekily.

After the earl had partaken of a truly amazing quantity of coddled eggs—what luck that Fanny had gone to market only yesterday—he rose and thanked Mother Wren for the breakfast. Mother Wren smiled flirtatiously at him, and Anna wondered how long it would be before the whole village heard that they had entertained the Earl of Swartingham in their wrappers.

“Can you dress for riding, Mrs. Wren?” the earl asked Anna. “I have my gelding and Daisy waiting outside.”

“Of course, my lord.” Anna excused herself and went to her room to change.

A few minutes later, she ran back down the stairs and found the earl waiting for her in the front garden. He was contemplating the wet earth to the side of her door where blue grape hyacinth and yellow daffodils were cheerfully blooming. He looked up when she came out of the house, and for an instant, there was an expression in his eyes that made her catch her breath. She glanced down to pull on her gloves and felt her cheeks heat.

“About time,” he said. “We’re later than I had planned.”

Anna ignored his curtness and stood by the mare, waiting for his help to mount. The earl advanced and wrapped his big hands around her waist before throwing her up into the saddle. He stood below her for a moment, the wind teasing a lock of his dark hair, and searched her face. She stared back, all thought having fled from her mind. Then he turned to his own horse and mounted.

The day was bright. Anna didn’t remember hearing rain during the night, but the evidence of it lay everywhere. Puddles stood in the lane, and the trees and fences they passed still dripped. The earl walked the horses out of the village and into the countryside.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Mr. Durbin’s sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should have told you about today’s outing earlier.”

Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.

He coughed. “I might’ve, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon.”

She arched a brow but did not reply.

There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog’s eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.

Then the earl tried again. “I’ve heard some people say my temper is rather…” He paused, apparently searching for a word.

Anna helped him. “Savage?”

He squinted at her.

“Ferocious?”

He frowned and opened his mouth.

She was quicker. “Barbaric?”

He cut her off before she could add to her list. “Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people.” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren.”

“You don’t.”

He looked at her swiftly. He didn’t say anymore, but his expression lightened. In another minute, he had kicked the bay into a gallop along the muddy lane, throwing up great clumps of earth. The dog gave chase with his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.