way.’
Marina allowed herself a small smile as she obeyed. The Dowager’s bark was extremely frightening, but Marina now fancied that her ladyship’s bite was a little lacking in teeth, like a pampered old lapdog, yelping and snapping uselessly at every visitor.
‘Now, Miss Beaumont. Tell me about yourself,’ began her ladyship. She was obviously pleased to see that Marina, once seated on the stool, was shorter than she was. ‘What do they call you?’
‘Marina, ma’am,’ replied Marina, puzzled. How could Lady Luce have agreed to employ a companion when she did not even know her given name?
‘Marina. Hmm. Unusual name, is it not?’
‘I am not sure, ma’am. I was named for my father’s mother, I believe.’
‘Foreign, was she?’ Lady Luce’s voice betrayed her distaste.
‘I understand so. I never knew her. My father’s family had served in the army for generations. All the women followed the drum.’
‘Your mother, too?’ Lady Luce’s voice had a clear undertone of disapproval now. She probably felt that such behaviour was not appropriate for a niece of the Viscount Blaine.
‘Yes, ma’am. But after the Peace of Amiens, my father decided that his wife would be better in England, since my brother and I were so small. We settled in Yorkshire.’
‘And your father? What was he?’
‘He was a captain in the 95th Rifles, ma’am. He died nine years ago, at the battle of Ciudad Rodrigo, along with my uncle.’
Lady Luce nodded in understanding. Marina wondered whether she, too, had lost loved ones in the wars. Many titled families had.
‘But your mother was provided for?’ Lady Luce clearly had no qualms about enquiring into the most intimate detail of her companion’s circumstances. And she would doubtless persist until she received her answer.
‘No, ma’am. At least, not well.’ That was true, though it was not the whole truth. ‘My mother supplemented our income by taking pupils.’ Seeing her ladyship’s look of surprise, Marina added, ‘My mother is very well educated, ma’am. Her father was a great scholar. He educated his daughter exactly as he educated his son.’ She smiled fondly. ‘Unlike my mother, my uncle had no inclination for scholarship. He was army mad, almost from his cradle. A great disappointment to my grandfather.’
‘Hmph,’ said Lady Luce. It was not clear whether she approved or not. ‘And who was he, this scholar grandfather of yours?’
Marina was beginning to dislike her ladyship’s sustained questioning very much, but she did not think she could refuse to answer. ‘He met my grandmother when he was the Viscount Blaine’s private secretary, I believe, ma’am.’
Her ladyship smiled suddenly. ‘And he was remarkably handsome, too, was he not? Tall, with fine features and dark hair, and a beautifully modulated speaking voice?’
‘Why, yes. Grandmama did describe him in much that way,’ Marina replied. ‘Did you know him, ma’am?’
Her ladyship continued to smile, a rather secretive smile, and a faraway look came into her eye. ‘Aye, I knew James Langley. All the girls were mad for him, I remember. Handsomest man we had ever seen…but quite unsuitable…quite.’ She looked sharply at Marina as if looking for some resemblance. ‘Your grandmother kicked over the traces for his handsome face, did she, eh?’
Marina blushed and nodded dumbly. Her ladyship’s salty turn of phrase was not what she was used to in Yorkshire with her very proper mama.
‘And her father cast her off as a result?’
Marina nodded again.
‘Just what I’d expect from that family. Don’t hold with such cavalier treatment. Don’t hold with it at all.’ Lady Luce shook her head so vigorously that a little cloud of powder rose from her wig. ‘If I had had a daughter—’
The door opened to admit the butler. Bowing stiffly, he announced, ‘His lordship is below, your ladyship, and begs the favour of a few minutes’ conversation with Miss Beaumont.’
‘Does he, indeed?’ said Lady Luce, frowning.
Marina was astonished. What on earth could Lady Luce’s son want with the companion?
‘I suppose I must humour him, in the circumstances,’ her ladyship said, grudgingly. ‘Conduct Miss Beaumont below, Tibbs.’
Wonderingly, Marina followed the butler out of the room and down the staircase to the bookroom on the ground floor. Perhaps the Earl wished to look over his mother’s companion, to decide whether he thought her suitable? But what if he did not? Marina doubted that her son’s objections would make any difference to Lady Luce, not once she had made up her mind.
The Earl was standing by the window, looking out into the street. He was several inches shorter than Marina, and noticeably corpulent. Unlike his mother, he wore the newest fashions, even though tight pantaloons did not flatter his figure at all.
He waited until the door had closed before turning. He made no move towards Marina. And he did not attempt to shake hands.
Marina understood. To the Earl, she was only a servant. She curtsied, waiting for him to speak.
Like his mother, he surveyed her keenly. Marina caught his lofty expression and responded automatically by lifting her chin. Had not Lady Luce just insisted she was a Blaine?
‘Miss Beaumont,’ he said, in an affected drawl, ‘you have arrived at last. We had looked to see you somewhat sooner than this.’
Marina did not attempt to make excuses for the timing of her arrival. His lordship might travel post, but she could not afford such luxury. She looked calmly across at him, waiting.
‘However, it is of no moment now. We have more important matters to discuss.’
Marina’s surprise must have been evident in her face, for he said, ‘I take it Lady Blaine did not tell you about my requirements?’
‘No, sir. Lady Blaine said nothing at all about the nature of the post. She wrote only—’
The Earl clearly had no interest in what Marina wished to say, and no compunction about interrupting a lady who was no better than a servant. ‘What her ladyship wrote is of no interest to me, Miss Beaumont. What matters here are the instructions that I shall give you. Your role in this household is to prevent my mother from indulging in extravagant foolishness. No doubt you have heard that she has a predilection for gambling?’
Marina shook her head. ‘I know nothing at all about her ladyship’s manner of living, sir.’
The Earl snorted. He sounded worse than his mother. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘Very well. The facts are these. My mother is overfond of gambling. On occasion, she has been known to risk considerably more than she can afford. Your role, Miss Beaumont, is to ensure that she does not.’
Marina gulped. How was she supposed to ensure such a thing? Surely Lady Luce would never have agreed to have her son’s agent foisted on her? ‘I do not understand, sir,’ Marina said.
‘It is quite simple,’ snapped the Earl. ‘Even a woman should be able to grasp it. I am employing you to stop my mother’s gambling. The means I leave to you.’
Ignoring his rudeness, Marina tried to grapple with his astonishing statement. ‘I had understood that I was employed by the Dowager Countess,’ she began, but she was permitted to go no further.
‘Ostensibly, but all the costs of your position fall to me. I am employing you. And your role will be as I have described.’
Marina swallowed hard. The task was impossible, surely? And the Earl was obnoxious. ‘Is the Dowager Countess content with this arrangement?’ she asked quietly. It would sound presumptuous for a mere companion to speak so, but the question had