Waiting till he could trust himself, Morgan stared at the man. What age was Rumm? He didn’t know. He’d never asked. Perhaps some ten years older than himself? He wasn’t married. Never had been. And thanks to the Council’s recent ruling never would be, now. But had he loved? Had he lived through a heartbreak? Had his arms held the woman he adored as she lay dying in slow agony? Had he breathed in her final, shuddering sigh?

It doesn’t matter if he has. That still wouldn’t give him the right to—

“You’re angry,” Rumm said, stating the obvious with such aplomb it was almost amusing. “I’m sorry. But sir, you have to know it’s not easy walking the line between yourself and your father.”

You’re not paid for easy, Rumm. You’re paid to do as you’re told.

And wasn’t that the problem? Rumm had done precisely as he was told. Indeed, if he’d not answered Lord Danfey honestly he’d be held gravely at fault.

Muscle by taut muscle, Morgan made himself relax. “Very well, Rumm. I’ll overlook it, this once. But don’t think I’ll be so forgiving again. Now you can take sherry to the library. But his lordship is not to have more than one glass. In fact, don’t take a bottle. Take two glasses on a tray, in which case give Nydd the Ospia. That’s good enough for him. His lordship will of course imbibe only the dry Tartaffe.”

Rumm nodded. His face was sober but his eyes were relieved. “Of course, sir.”

“And you can tell his lordship I’ve gone into Elvado,” he added. “I’ve Council business at the College and then I’m staying in town to dine. You can reach me at The Opal, should anything—should I be required. Reassure Lord Danfey that I’ll not be home late.”

“Very good, sir,” Rumm murmured, bowing, once more the perfect, self-contained servant.

Leaving the kitchen, Morgan heard him say to the cook, in a tone he reserved for his own servant underlings, “Mosson, this sauce is rubbish. Did you trip and drop the salt cellar into the pot, you ramshackle spoon bender? Throw it out and do it over. And you can be sure the cost will come out of your too-generous wages.”

Morgan grinned, his good temper abruptly restored. Dismiss Rumm? No. He couldn’t do that, no matter how provoking his behaviour.

But I will have a pointed word with his lordship. If he wants to know something, let him ask me. I’ll not be the fodder for a servant’s speculation… no, not even for Rumm.

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve