Molly brushed down her skirts. “And I do not need to be lectured by you about how I treat the lad. If anyone thinks I am not treating the boy well, then they should be talking to the only one who has a right to say something.”
Suddenly recalling what the woman had said about Thomas being the old lord’s by-blow, Olympia had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen. She took a step toward Molly only to have the woman neatly dance out of her reach with a speed and grace that was rather surprising in such a large woman. Olympia felt a brief pang of sympathy for the woman as she recognized what was a skill learned from many years of dodging the fists of the men in one’s family.
“The only one that has a right to say what happens to the brat is his brother, m’lord.”
All sympathy fled and Olympia glared at the woman, aching to wipe the smug look right off Molly’s face. Brant had gone very pale. Young Thomas had obviously known exactly who fathered him as he watched Brant with an odd mix of bravado and sadness. Olympia suspected Thomas waited for Fieldgate to toss him out as many another lord would do.
“What did you say?” he demanded of Molly.
“I said you be the only one who can decide what to do about your brother.” Molly nodded toward Thomas. “That be him right there. Born not long after the old lord died, he was.”
Brant stared at Thomas and slowly began to see the familial resemblance. He had the Mallam eyes and looked very close to having the Mallam nose as well. “Is what she says true?” he asked the boy.
“It is,” replied Thomas.
“Are there others lurking about my household whom I should know about?”
“Not anymore. Not in the house.”
That statement struck Brant as somewhat ominous but he turned his attention to Molly. “And you never saw the need to inform me that my own sibling was the boy cleaning my boots?”
“He be a bastard and we all know how the gentry feel about them,” Molly said.
“You may leave now.”
“What?’
“I said, Molly the cook’s helper, that you will leave now. I do not recall hiring you or even approving of your hire, but I can make you leave. So, go.”
“You would toss me out for telling you the truth?”
“No, I am tossing you out for not telling me the truth sooner and, I begin to think, for not actually being in my employ.”
Brant turned to walk away but paused to look back at Molly. “You may collect what little is yours, and do not think I will not know if you help yourself to few extra things for I will as I have a very precise accounting of all I own.” The fact that he had had to do so to stop his mother from robbing him blind was not something anyone else needed to know. “I would suggest that you wait outside for a while after you pack and leave the house. I believe there will soon be a few more on their way out of Fieldgate soon. Very soon.” He looked at Thomas. “Shall we return to the library?”
Olympia watched Brant and young Thomas leave and then looked at Molly. “That was a particularly witless thing to do. Just why has Thomas been kept a secret?”
“Because Lady Mallam told us to keep the secret.”
“Lady Mallam does not rule here.”
Molly laughed as she tore off her apron and tossed it on the floor. “No? Do you really think that maudlin, drunken fool holds the reins here?”
Olympia watched the woman stride away and shook her head. It appeared Brant had been carefully watched and controlled by his mother. Considering the man supported Lady Mallam far more generously than many another son would, especially one as grievously wronged as he had been, it made no sense that the woman would keep such a close eye on him. There was more to this than a mother who wanted to control her son and whose greed plainly ran so deep she was willing to sell her daughter to a perverted swine of a man. Olympia took a deep breath and started back to the library. She had told Agatha she would help and so she would. She just hoped whatever needed doing did not pull her too deeply into the Mallam family’s trouble.
“Still here, m’lady?” Brant asked when Olympia stepped into the library.
“I have yet to actually discuss what I came here for,” she replied and could tell by the look he gave her that he was very close to trying to throw her out.
“And what would that be?”
“That your sister has been trying to reach you because she fears your mother is about to sell her in marriage to Lord Horace Minden.”
Chapter 3
Brant stared at Olympia, opened his mouth to speak, could think of nothing to say, and closed his mouth. It was rude but, despite the fact that Olympia was still standing, he slumped down on the settee. It was as if all the strength had left his legs. He glanced longingly at the brandy decanter.