point out such an incontrovertible truth, Nick’s hand closed over her elbow and he firmly guided her toward the sitting room.
They crossed the foyer and Sara noted other changes; one of the bottom spindles on the stair railing was missing, and the mirror in front of the entryway displayed a large crack.
Jenkins caught her inquiring gaze. “Master Desford’s cricket ball.” He opened the door to the sitting room and bowed low. Just as Sara and Nick passed inside, a sound came from upstairs. It began as a low rumble, then increased in volume to a roar, passing directly overhead, then moving away.
“Large mice, perhaps?” Nick murmured, his gaze on the ceiling, a wry twist to his lips. “Or a pack of demons. Must be one or the other.”
Jenkins politely did not answer and Sara wished Mrs. Stibbons was about. The talkative housekeeper would have given her all the information any one could want. As it was, Sara barely waited for the door to click shut behind the stoic butler before she whirled on her husband. “Anthony has gotten in over his head.” As if to validate her words, a huge crash sounded, followed by a deadly silence.
Nick’s blue eyes lit with mischief. “You know, my dear, this visit may actually afford us some amusement.”
The sound of booted footsteps approaching the door stopped any reply Sara might have made. The door flung open and Anthony entered the room. Tall and broad-shouldered, he made the generous chamber seem small.
Unlike her other brothers who were all made on more elegant lines, Anthony was roughly masculine, his hands large and powerful, his face seemingly hewn from rock. The Elliot blood showed in the straightness of his brows and the sardonic curve of his lips, making him appear cold and impersonal to those who didn’t know him.
“Sara!” he said, a frown resting on his brow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Nick and I were passing through on our way home and thought to see how you fared.”
To Sara’s chagrin, her brother didn’t appear the least gratified to see her. “How long are you staying?”
Sara frowned. “Only for an hour. But if we’re not welcome, we can leave—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m always glad to have you visit,” Anthony said briskly. Normally, that would have been true. But now…
Six weeks ago, his life had been perfectly ordered, his goals to reestablish the Elliot name firmly in place. Anthony rubbed the back of his neck and tried to ease some of the tension that tightened his shoulders. Perhaps he should purchase an estate in America; he could send the children there. If that didn’t work, there was always India. Anthony suddenly realized Sara was talking.
“—she just stomped off. I cannot believe a governess would behave—”
“Wait.” A sinking feeling weighted his stomach. “Not Miss Turner?”
“Weren’t you listening?” At his blank gaze, Sara made a disgusted sound and came to stand in front of him, tilting her head back to stare directly in his eyes. “We ran into your governess as she was leaving .”
“Bloody hell!” He’d paid a fortune for her and for almost three days, he’d experienced some semblance of peace.
Unaware of his turmoil, or perhaps in spite of it, Sara continued, “Miss Turner is gone. It appeared as if her hair and her fat dog had experienced some sort of accident involving feathers and catnip.”
Damn it to hell! He turned to the door and yanked it open. “ Desford! ”
Sara’s eyes lit with curiosity. “Who is Desford?”
“The eldest of my troublesome wards,” Anthony said grimly. “He thinks to force me into letting him and the rest of the children live with their grandmother, but he is mistaken. I’ll be damned if I let an eleven-year-old dictate to me inside my own home.”
Rushed footsteps sounded in the hallway and Jenkins appeared. “My lord?”
“Find Master Desford and bring him here,” Anthony ordered.
“Yes, my lord.”
Anthony watched the butler