Waiting ready with his father’s blue velvet long coat, Morgan stifled a sigh. “Yes, my lord. But I could just as easily bring the accounts to you after I’ve gone through them with Nydd and then—”

“No,” his father said, glowering. “So long as I breathe, I’m still the master here. I won’t have this coddling, Morgan, d’you hear me? I’ve already given Rumm fair warning. I’ll dismiss him out of hand if I have to complain of it again.”

Intemperate or not, he had to counter that. “My lord, you are not going to dismiss Rumm,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. Almost playful. “And even if you did, I’d reinstate him in the next breath.”

“Would you indeed?” His father’s jaw worked, bristled eyebrows jutting. “So you’d lord it over me while there remains a beating heart in my breast?”

“Lord it over you? Never. But I would save you from making a grave mistake. What kind of a son would I be if I didn’t?”

“What kind of a son spits in his father’s eye and declares he’ll overrule him in his own house?”

Morgan bit his tongue on all the things he wanted to say. They’d achieve him nothing, serve only to worsen his father’s increasingly cantankerous mood.

He’s alive to bite your nose off. Remember that and be grateful.

“I am sorry, my lord,” he said, dipping his head in contrition. “I chose my response poorly. Better I should beg your indulgence not to dismiss Rumm. He does me good service, and I would miss him very much.”

Even if he does let Venette trample all over him.

Shirt buttoned, finally, his father let his hands fall to his lap. So small a task as pushing buttons through buttonholes nearly defeated the old man’s strength these days.

“You make a great fuss over nothing, Morgan,” he said, retreating. “I did not say I had dismissed him, only that I take his mumblings against my grain.”

“Then again the fault is mine, for placing more weight on your words than was warranted. I hope Rumm knows his place here is in no real danger?”

“He knows what I want him to know!” his father retorted. “So don’t you go cozening him behind my back, for I’ll know if you do and I’ll not thank you for it.”

Best they step aside this topic altogether. “Your coat, my lord?”

“Yes, yes, I can see it. Wanting to accuse me of blindness now, too, are you?”

If he could keep his temper with Sallis Arkley, he could keep it with his father. “Of course not. But Nydd will be here soon, and I know how much you mislike keeping anyone waiting.”

His father snorted. “So now you’re cozening me, Morgan. Think you’re quite the clever one, don’t you?”