“I know I warned you once, but given the fact that your family is not here to look after you, I feel I should remind you again to be careful there.”
Lucy tied the ribbon at the end of my hair with a sharp tug. “I dinna need lookin’ after. And asides, I told ye, he’s no’ likely to pay me mind. Is that all, m’lady?”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. The girl was in no frame of mind to listen. “Yes.”
She bobbed a perfunctory curtsy and was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I was surprised to find Miss Remmington already in the breakfast room early the next morning. We had the chamber to ourselves, save for the footman stationed by the door to assist us, so I decided it was as good a time as any to make my apology. She accepted it with a dip of her head, her eyes scarcely meeting mine. I couldn’t decide whether she was embarrassed, or intent on being angry and churlish, but either way, she expressed no regret over her own words spoken in the drawing room the previous night.
Following her lead, I focused on my breakfast and mostly ignored her presence, difficult as it was with her seated across from me. The longer we sat in silence, the more awkward it became, until I was relieved to see her rise from the table to take her leave. I hated to dash Gage’s hopes, but if the cautious glance Miss Remmington gave me before exiting the room was any indication, she was not going to be confiding in me anytime soon.
Moments later, Lord Keswick entered, looking back through the door at his retreating sister, no doubt. His steps faltered when he caught sight of me, but only for a moment, and I knew I would be making another apology.
After he’d filled his plate and settled in the chair Miss Remmington had so recently vacated, I swallowed my frustration at his sister’s silence and expressed my regret over the previous night’s actions. Unlike Miss Remmington, Lord Keswick listened with easy acceptance, making the words less bitter on my tongue the second time around.
“I understand you were trying to defend Lord Dalmay,” he told me. “You simply let your words get away from you, and who of us can say we have not done the same at one time or another.” His mouth curled into a gentle smile. “I’m sure my wife and sister would tell you I have.”
I released a deep breath. “Thank you for being so gracious.”
He looked to the door again. “I hope my sister made her apology in return.”
I did not know how to respond to such a query. I had no wish to be a tattler, or to get Miss Remmington into trouble with her brother, even if I had found her failure to reciprocate rude. Nevertheless, it seemed my silence was answer enough.
Lord Keswick sighed. “Then you must allow me to make her apology for her.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“But it is,” he insisted. “And I’m certain my sister knows how inappropriate and offensive her suppositions about Lord Dalmay were. But she . . .” His gaze dropped to his plate, where his fork hovered over a bite of kippers ready to be lifted into his mouth. “Well, she doesn’t take criticism well. I’m afraid that is my parents’ fault as much as my aunt’s and uncle’s.”
It seemed to me the fault was her own, but I let him continue his explanation without argument.
“You see, my parents doted on her. In their eyes, she could do no wrong, and they let her run rather wild, for a young lady—gallivanting across the countryside. When they died . . .” I could hear the sadness in his voice “. . . I was still attending Oxford, and had yet to reach my majority. I had no idea how to care for a twelve-year-old girl, or what grooming or lessons she would require. So she went to live with our aunt and uncle.”
His expression was pained. “If my parents were indulgent, my aunt and uncle were the exact opposite. They immediately set about reforming Elise. I discovered later, to my regret, that their methods were not the kindest. They constantly harangued and berated my sister, quoting Bible verses and calling her wicked. Elise, being who she is, rebelled, which only made matters worse. By the time I came of age and finally realized what was happening, she had been in their care for over three years. Now she views any attempt to correct her as an attack.” He shook his head. “I’ve done my best, but I’m afraid she resists all instruction.”