"No. If you think she will be a suitable addition to the staff, then so be it. I have faith in your judgment," he said.

"I am flattered."

"It is not flattery. The house seems to be in perfect condition, Amelia, and you have been here for a single day."

She was thrilled by his praise-and by the warm look in his eyes. "It is hardly as if the house were falling down, or as if it had been closed up for years. A few of the rooms were musty, and the pantry was rather bare, that is all. Oh! I was wondering if you would mind if we refurbished the boys' bedchamber. The furnishings are suitable for John, but not for William. I think he would be pleased if the room were entirely redone."

He smiled. "I don't mind. You know, I saw the boys when I came in, and they could not stop talking about you."

"I took them for a walk today."

"I know. They adore you, Amelia."

She hesitated. "I am already so very fond of them."

Their gazes locked. He finally looked away and said, "They began to tell me about the smugglers of Sennen Cove."

She laughed. "I told them some tall tales of my ancestors' legendary exploits."

Smiling, he said, "John has declared that he wishes to be a smuggler."

"Oh, no!" she cried, but she was smiling, too.

"I am sure he will realize the folly of his ways when he is an adult."

"Jack has never realized the folly of his ways."

"How is Jack, by the way?"

She hesitated. "He has not changed, Simon."

He stared down at his desk. Then he looked up. "So he continues to smuggle, in a time of war? If so, he must elude two navies, not one."

She twisted her hands. She so wanted to share her fears with him. "It is worse than that," she said softly. "Jack is running our blockade of France."

Grenville made a harsh sound. "If he is caught, he will hang! He is as reckless as ever. And how could he think to help the French republicans?"

"He is only thinking of the profit he is making," she said defensively. "He has also helped several emigre families reach British sh.o.r.es."

"I am glad to hear that." He left his desk. "Do you wish for a gla.s.s of wine or a sherry before supper? I am ready for a drink."

She felt so prim now. "Grenville, I can hardly imbibe at this hour."

He was pouring a gla.s.s of red wine. He gave her an amused look. "Of course not. Your day is not yet done. It is not bedtime."

She flushed. "I am sorry I ever told you that I sip a brandy before bed."

"I'm not."

Was he laughing? She hoped so. "When you smile like that, your eyes lighten and it is as if you have shed the weight of the world!"

"You are being fanciful," he said, scowling. "I am not carrying the weight of the world, Amelia, just that of a small earldom and my family."

Why had her comment upset him? Sometimes his behavior was so odd.

Grenville walked over to the sofa, gestured at her and sat. "Have you spoken with Lucas yet? Does he know you have taken up this position?"

Amelia sat down in an adjacent chair. "I haven't had the chance to speak with Lucas. He wanted me to move to town, but I imagine he will be surprised when he learns that I am your housekeeper."

"Surprised or angry?"

Did he recall that Lucas had refused to allow him to call on her? It had been so long ago. "Lucas mentioned that he has seen you in town from time to time. He hardly seemed angry when he spoke of you." She had no intention of bring up the past.

He sipped his wine. "I am on somewhat friendly terms with your uncle, Amelia. Lucas often stays with Warlock when he is in town, so our paths have crossed."

Amelia hadn't realized that Grenville knew her uncle. Sebastian Warlock was not close to Amelia and her siblings, although they had met a few times. "It is a small world, then."

"Very."

"I think Lucas will be surprised when he learns of my decision to become your housekeeper, but in the end he will understand why I made such a choice."

He studied her. "We shall see. Are you sure you don't want a small sip of wine or sherry?"

She almost felt as if the devil were offering her a terrible temptation. "No, thank you. In fact, in a moment I must go upstairs. Actually, there are some matters I was hoping to discuss with you." Tension filled her. Somehow, she did not think they would discuss Lucille's future calmly. "The others have arrived, in case you did not hear the commotion in front of the house."

"I heard."

"We need to discuss Lucille, Grenville."

His gaze narrowed. "Lucille?" Abruptly, he stood.

She also rose, feeling defensive. "She has needed a name for the past ten days. You were very clear-you did not care what she was named. Apparently Lady Grenville favored the name Lucille. Therefore, that is what we have named her."

"And what will you do if Southland changes it?" His eyes were hard.

"Who is Southland? Is that her father?"

"Yes, he is. Thomas Southland is the child's natural father. I wrote him last week, telling him of the child's birth."

Alarm began. She was afraid and dismayed. "What do you mean, you wrote him? Do I know of him?"

"If you mean, is he a gentleman, the answer is yes. Elizabeth chose her lovers with care." His face was entirely closed now. "I do not think she ever dallied with a stable boy."

"That is a terrible thing to say!"

"Well, I could be wrong. For all I know, she slept with my gardener." He suddenly finished his entire gla.s.s of wine and set the gla.s.s down on a side table.

His wife had hurt him. Hadn't she? Why else would he speak so disparagingly of the dead? "I am so sorry that Lucille is not your daughter."

"I'm not. However, her birth is highly inconvenient."

"Simon, stop! You can't mean it-"

"I do mean it. She never told me she was with child, Amelia. Warlock told me when it became obvious. I had asked him to keep an eye on my sons, while I was in the north. I didn't even know she was fleeing to Cornwall to have the child. I don't know what she planned. Perhaps she meant to have the babe in secret, and then to cast her off to a convent orphanage."

Amelia was aghast. "No mother would so such a thing!"

"Ah, so you keep faith in a dead woman-my dead wife."

He was mocking her. "You are speaking very poorly of her."

"Yes, I am."

It wasn't her place to ask, but she blurted, "Why didn't you like her?"

"It was my duty to marry and beget heirs, not my duty to like her."

"But you could have chosen a different bride."

He raised a brow. "I chose to do as my father wished, Amelia. Perhaps I should have objected, but I did not-because I didn't really care. My marriage was going to be arranged for all the right reasons, one way or another." His smile was derisive. "But we took a mutual dislike to one another from the moment we were engaged."

"That doesn't make sense!"

"I am not my brother."

It took her a moment to comprehend him. "Elizabeth had wanted to marry William?" And she thought about how different the two brothers had been.

"They had met several times. A marriage between them had been discussed." He poured another gla.s.s of wine. "They made an attractive couple. I think they would have gotten on."

He was being so calm. She ached for him. His wife had wanted to marry his brother. How could that have not hurt him?

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to comfort him. Instead, she clasped her hands tightly together. "I am so genuinely sorry that you and Lady Grenville both suffered as you did. And even though it doesn't matter, I thought the two of you very well matched."

"You would."

She knew she could not delay any longer. She inhaled. "Simon, Lucille is an innocent child. She has done no wrong. She has lost her mother and she needs a father now."

"Then you should hope that Southland comes to retrieve her."

She was stricken by his cold response. "Is that what you have asked him to do?"

"Of course I have!" He snapped. "I have no desire to raise that b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

Tears arose. She didn't even try to wipe them away. He was dead set against Lucille. She had to find composure, she had to think! "Did he know she was carrying his child?"

"I have no idea." He spoke very calmly now. "After all, she did not confide in me."

He was in so much pain, she thought, but he would never admit it.

"Stop looking at me with pity," he warned.

"I don't pity you."

"Like h.e.l.l you don't."

Amelia gave up. She went to him and took one of his hands in both of her smaller ones. "You are hurt. You are wounded. It is understandable. But you are a good man! And when some time has pa.s.sed, when your wounds are not so raw, I know you will feel differently about Lucille."

"Do you really think it wise to offer me comfort now?" he asked, his gaze suddenly bright.

Her heart was pounding. Did he think to turn this into a seduction? For one more moment, she held his hand. "You need comfort, Simon."

"Do you also think it wise to continue to call me Simon? Our love affair ended years ago."

She tensed and glanced at the open doors, but no one stood there.

"Yes, there is a house full of servants-and servants talk." He shrugged his hand free of hers abruptly. "This is dangerous ground, Amelia."

"Even you admitted that we are friends. Friends comfort one another, Grenville, in a time of need."

"Ah, so some common sense returns-it is Grenville again."

"What has made you so dark and so frightening? It cannot simply be marriage to a woman you did not love!"

"So I am dark and frightening now?"

"You have changed entirely!" she cried.

"Well, we finally agree upon something." He sauntered away from her and sank down on the sofa, almost slumping. He glanced up. "I asked you here because my sons need you. We both know you accepted this position because the boys lost their mother. I do not need you, Amelia. I do not need your comfort. But, if you keep offering it, you might become very sorry, indeed."

"Are you threatening me?" she cried, in disbelief.

"We both know an attraction remains." He shrugged.

He was so casual and complacent about it! He was right that an attraction remained and his boys needed her. But Simon was wrong about needing her. He was wounded, although she did not know how. Whatever had caused his wounds, it was far more than a failed marriage.

She thought about his terrible reaction to the banging shutter last night.

He eyed her from where he was sprawled on the sofa.

"Why do you keep a loaded pistol in that drawer?" she asked. "Why were you afraid of whomever you thought was at your door last night?"

He smiled, but it was a ruthless baring of his teeth. "London is filled with crooks, cheats and thieves."

"Oh, please! Thieves do not knock!"

"As you have noticed-and as I have pointed out-I have changed."

"You ran to the door with a loaded gun!" she cried, refusing to back down. "I am very worried about you, Simon. You have said some very strange things-you have behaved very oddly. If I can help, I wish to do so."