“Oh, I see. So, I’m a dreg, am I?”
“I didn’t mean to say—”
Agnes held up a hand. “I know what you meant, Henry. But you’re being too hard on the young man. It’s not as if he came from a family of servants. He’s received a good education despite his lack of title, and he seems to have a good head on his shoulders. I would not cast him aside just yet.”
“Be that as it may, I hear he enjoys charming others to get what he wants. More so young women who are easily enchanted by such tactics.” Henry let out a sigh. “It’s one thing to be polite, but just because he’s handsome does not mean he should use his good looks to turn the heads of the young ladies of our village. This is not London.”
“No, it’s not. And Louisa has made me well aware of his methods.”
Henry chuckled. “Then why would you allow him to call on her? Or to collaborate as they are? She’s an impressionable young lady. Are you not concerned he’ll use that against her?”
“Louisa has been forthright about her frustration with Sir Aaron,” Agnes replied. “But you’ll be surprised to learn she is not all that different from him. I think they will be good for each other.”
Henry’s brows knitted. “You think two vain people can be compatible?”
“Of course,” Agnes said with a laugh. She adored Henry, especially when he gave her that bewildered look he wore now. Not in a romantic sense, for they could never be more than friends. “Why would I not?”
With a heavy sigh, Henry said, “I think it best that you say no more.” This was a clear signal that he knew he had already lost any argument that might arise about the subject.
“May they call on you to help them?” Agnes asked. “Surely, you would be willing to purchase a ticket?”
“Why me?”
Agnes smiled. “They must begin somewhere. Why not with you? After all, you’re the most giving aristocrat in Chatsworth.”
Henry sighed. “Oh, very well. They may call tomorrow at one. But there is another matter we must discuss. Something much more serious.”
Intrigued, Agnes asked, “And what is that?”
Henry shifted in his seat, placing both feet on the floor. “Lord Ezra’s returned to Chatsworth. And he’s even more cantankerous now that he’s been cast from the family by his nephew. We both know why he’s here and what he’s willing to do.”
Agnes nodded. She had already received this news from another source. She and Lord Ezra Colburn, uncle to the Duke of Elmhurst, had once shared in a short courtship. When she called off the courtship, he became angry. And vindictive.
Julia Wallace, a former student and now the Duchess of Elmhurst, had taken an interest in his nephew, and Lord Ezra had become enraged. He was certain Agnes had been behind the union, although he could not have known how close to the truth he was. Therefore, he had doubled his promise to see Agnes destroyed, and she feared he would not hesitate to make good on that threat.
Yet her worries were not for what she might lose, but rather the effect it would have on those around her.
“I cannot stop this storm from coming,” she said with determination. “I’ll face it no matter how strong it is.” She shrugged. “If he wins, I’ll be happy knowing I fought him to the best of my abilities. But I won’t take it lying down, Henry. You know that.”
“I was afraid you would say that,” Henry said. “But perhaps you should leave for a few months. Wait for his temper to cool. Tell everyone you’ve fallen ill and need time away. Then hire an interim headmistress to take your place. Lord Ezra has never been a patient man. He’ll soon grow bored and leave. Once he’s moved on to torment some other poor soul, you can return.”
Agnes gave her friend a warm smile. “I appreciate your advice, Henry. I truly do. But we both know it’s time Lord Ezra and I ended this feud. It’s gone on for far too long, and I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”
With a deep growl, Henry sat forward in his chair. “Are you listening to yourself, Agnes? He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. And don’t forget you’re not the only one who would receive the brunt of his anger. Think of Mrs. Shepherd.”
With a sigh, Agnes stood. “Mrs. Shepherd has no need to worry. I’ll make sure of that. What happened—”
A soft knock on the door had her stop what she was going to say. “Yes,” she called.
The very woman of whom they were speaking entered the room. Mrs. Shepherd bobbed a quick curtsy. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rutley. I didn’t want to disturb you, but Mr. Barker’s here to speak to you.”
Agnes frowned. “Now why would he be calling at this late hour?” she murmured. Aloud she said, “See him to the drawing room. And have a tea tray sent up.”
Mrs. Shepherd gave her a worried look. “I… I think you should see him now.”
Henry rose and buttoned his coat. “It’s getting late. I’ll call again another day, and we can take up this conversation again.”
After bidding her friend farewell, Agnes asked Mrs. Shepherd to bring in Mr. Barker. There was no sense in going to the drawing room. She preferred her office when discussing business. If that was why he was there.